Anakin Skywalker had not been able to sleep. So, having left his wife and hoping she wasn't only pretending to be asleep herself, he carefully made his way through the darkened bedroom and out into the hallway. He was walking barefoot, crossing the corridor to his office in silence, and stepped into the quiet room cautiously. His office was a neat affair, due to the fact that he seldomnly used it these days, and that he had forbidden his grandchildren to use it as playground. Checking the chrono over his desk he calculated the time difference to Honoghr critically, then decided it was not too early in the day to wake Chi'in. His old friend had retreated to his homeworld decades ago, celebrated as a hero, and they had not had much chance to meet personally since then. But tonight Anakin needed someone special to talk to, someone who would understand what was troubling him so about a certain message sent by Naas Deron.

Settling himself in the chair in front of his desk, he began typing the sequence number for Chi'in's private comm slowly, acutely aware of how much that call would cost him. No matter. He had enough credits to go around, and he should not be fickle when in need of a friend. No way. It took the encrypt/decrypt program – developed by Karrde's group – quite some time to report a successful connection to Honoghr, and soon after the holographic image of an elderly Noghri appeared in a small scale projection above the former Dark Lord's desk. Chi'in had always looked cool and wise, and that aura of wisdom had only intensified over the past decades. Strangely enough, Anakin felt intimidated by his friend's presence, even though once upon a time he had been the Noghri's master. But despite his own experiences as Dark Lord, warrior and Cor'dan, Anakin Skywalker knew that Chi'in had gained all of his insight so much earlier than he had, and that was what truly intimidated him. As if the Noghri had been born wise. He smiled at the thought, and found Chi'in smiling too.

"What news, my friend?" the Noghri asked at last.

"I hope I did not wake you?"

Chi'in shook his head. "No, not at all. I don't sleep much these days." His black eyes focused on the human's face intensely. "But what of you? You could not sleep?"

Anakin nodded. "There are disturbing news, namely the Seeker's predictions on the conflict brewing within the Sith Empire. I need to talk to you about Naas Deron – "

"He will fail," Chi'in interrupted quietly.

"You knew?" Anakin felt his jaw drop.

The Dynast nodded gravely. "I knew, yes. As Cor'dan, he is destined to fail. But you knew that when you chose him, did you not?"

Anakin was momentarily taken aback. Had he known? He was not sure. All he remembered was that he had chosen Naas Deron for what he was. A warrior. As for failure ... Grudgingly he had to admit to himself that he had never been entirely convinced of Deron's being fit for that post. "Well, I knew that he has a lot of issues, of emotional baggage he carries around with him," he reasoned, "but he is a responsible person and a good warrior and even a diplomat. The Seeker, though, claims he will indeed – fail," he finished lamely. "And no, I was not aware of that." He frowned at the Noghri. "Why didn't you warn me?"

"You were Cor'dan at that time, Anakin," Chi'in reasoned. "I had no right to interfere with your business."

It was then that Anakin became aware of the fact that during the time he had served as Cor'dan his mind, by custom, had not been entirely his own, but part of the Force. Kell had warned him of that, hadn't he? There was no other explanation of why he had made that choice, if even Chi'in had realized what it would bring in the future. "But – I do not understand why," he tried, feeling uncertain.

"His soul was injured when Puket died at Almashin. That wound has never fully healed. And even though he restrains himself, his anger and his darkness threaten to blot out the light he carries within," Chi'in explained. "I did my best to help him heal, but he has cut himself off. I believed you would understand, that you would know how he felt. You went through much the same when you became Dark Lord of the Sith, did you not?"

"Of course, but – " Anakin hesitated. "That was different. I did not have the power he commands now. Being Cor'dan – " He shuddered. "My stars! If we aren't careful he will become what Irek was, uncontrollable. Why didn't you tell me!" he demanded, suddenly angry.

But the Noghri's gaze remained impassive. "Anakin. He simply has to find his way. You know that I did not appoint a successor to become Dark Lord. There was a reason for that choice I made." Leaning forward he looked straight at Anakin, his huge dark eyes like twin black holes. "I have reserved that post  for Naas Deron."

Holding his breath, Mahel Sivaraya tried to remain as still as he could, and mustered every calming technique he had learned as a warrior to slow his heart-beat a tiny bit and stop the distracting rush of blood to his head. He knew, of course, that he should not be listening in on someone else's conversation, but, to his credit, it had happened rather accidentally. Coming back from the princess' bedroom, after she had assured him that she would rest easier now, he had overheard the last few exchanges between Lord Skywalker and an unknown Noghri. They had been talking about the Cor'dan, and as Deron's agent, Mahel thought it his duty to try and find out more. What he was hearing did not disturb him in the least. On the contrary. Envisioning the future, he saw Luzaya Dan and Naas Deron ruling together, she as Empress, and he as her Dark Lord. For a moment that glorious vision paused as he thought about who would be Cor'dan, then, but he believed that perhaps Luzaya could be both worldly and spiritual ruler of the Sith Empire. In fact, he felt confident that she could pull it off, with Naas Deron beside her.

Had the Noghri not just claimed that he had deemed Naas Deron his successor as Dark Lord? And had not Lord Skywalker expressed his unfaltering faith in the Cor'dan's skills as a diplomat and warrior? There was, even Mahel had to admit that, a slight stain on that perfect choice, namely what Skywalker had called ‚emotional baggage'. If Mahel understood correctly, Deron had lost a loved one at Almashin, and both the noghri and the former Dark Lord thought him flawed for it. Mahel briefly imagined losing someone he cared for deeply, and, not surprisingly, only Luzaya came to his mind. Shuddering at the thought, he closed his eyes briefly, then steeled himself once more, prepared to listen some more. Easing his shoulder against the wall, he inched his ear a little closer to the gap in the doorway. Just now the Noghri was saying ...

"She may be viewing that as treason, you realize that?"

"Yana Dar is always in agreement with anything that benefits her people," Skywalker replied confidently. "And with what the Seeker predicts, and, as I told you, both Thrawn and I agree on that too, treason will be the least of her worries. Betetr to have some allies with predictable interests than none at all."

"Deron may see that differently. If he interferes your plan will be lost."

"That's why we are so anxious to see Luzaya Dan on her way to Coruscant. Why Al'than'erudo had Andarack arrange that little incident on Nak'har. And the boy is proving himself too."

"Marayal Carr's son," the Noghri said, shaking his head. "There are dangers in that, to all of us, including Lomin Carr. The New Republic remembers the Warmaster, as do the Chiss. What did Thrawn have to say on the matter?"


Mahel held his breath, straining to hear better. This was Grand Admiral Thrawn they were talking about, the infamous Chiss battle-leader, whose genius had cost the Yuuzhan Vong the battle for Almashin, and with it the war. Mahel had always admired the blue-skinned humanoid for his brilliance, just as he admired the Cor'dan for his insight and power. Was Thrawn here? He would have loved to meet him personally. And he would really love to hear what he had had to say about him.

"Thrawn," Skywalker began slowly, "was impressed with the young man's resolve to break from his people's custom, much as Thrawn himself did, to achieve his goals."

"Are you certain you know Mahel Sivaraya's goals?"

"A few of them, and those that matter, as it is." That comment, delivered by the former Dark Lord in a most casual tone, surprised the young Yuuzhan Vong quite a bit. He wasn't even sure about his goals himself! All he was doing was to follow the Cor'dan's order in protecting the princess. "Luzaya will need him," Skywalker continued, "almost as much as she will need Naas Deron in the future. She does not trust her mentor fully, as she told me, but I believe she will come to see him differently now that she is getting away from her mother's influence. Yana can be quite overwhelming sometimes, as you will recall, Chi'in." The Noghri and the human shared a laugh. "Of course, we have no means of knowing whether Luzaya will realize her future at all."

"I take it you neglected to tell her the truth about her Naming Day?"

Anakin Skywalker seemed to shrug. "What truth?"

"You explained the rite to me once, and as I understand it, the guardian spirit the named person is given is in fact the future self of that person, which over time needs to be discovered by the one so named. And yet you also claimed that it was part of a bargain between the world of the spirits and that of the living."


"What are you getting at?"

"That Luzaya is left in the belief that an alien spirit resides within herself, when it is her all along. Don't you think that might distract her?"

Mahel saw Anakin Skywalker shake his head then. "No. Wisdom is partly attained by getting to know the truth about oneself. I learned that, you did too. Luzaya will learn the same."

"And her guardian spirit? You know who it is?"

Cocking his head to the side as if listening, Skywalker nodded. "I do," he said. "All I will say, though, is that she should trust Deron no matter what, no matter if he fails as Cor'dan. He is her most powerful ally in the crisis to come."

Taking a slow breath, Mahel Sivaraya edged away from the door, confident that he had heard enough. All right. He turned away quickly and stalked over to his own room, all the while fearing that the former Cor'dan had somehow sensed his presence. But then he would have called him on his insolent eavesdropping, wouldn't he? Only when he was safely inside his own room did he exhale in relief. He had his mission, and he would certainly see it through to the end, whatever that may be.

The next morning, at the breakfast table, Jaina had another opportunity to observe her brother's clumsy attempts at pretending he wasn't interested in the princess. It was a wonder he wasn't drooling. When Luzaya asked him to pass her the berry jelly, he almost cleared the table in his haste to comply. And while he might not have noticed the secretive smile on Luzaya's lips, starry-eyed as he was, Jaina certainly had. She was angry at the older girl, thinking that she should not use her looks to embarrass Jacen so. Of course, Luzaya was very pretty, and Jacen was probably reacting like any male around her did. One only had to look to Mahel Sivaraya, the Yuuzhan Vong, to see that he was feeling much the same for the princess. He hid it better, though. Jaina refrained from gazing at her grandparents' knowing faces. It would only make her mood worse. Her mother, she knew, would also be pretending that her son wasn't making a complete fool of himself.

Polite, everyday conversation drifted up and down the table as breakfast continued, and then Jacen asked whether anyone had any last-minute advice concerning their mission to Bakura. Jaina started. She had totally forgotten that they'd be leaving tomorrow! Immediately her eyes lodged onto her mother's face, and she saw Leia smile warmly.

"Last-minute-advice?" she asked, arching her brows. "Jacen, advice should never come at the last minute. I believe I have told you all I could, just as Al'than'erudo has. There is nothing more to add. Or is there?" she questioned, turning toward her father.

Anakin shook his head. "Not from me. And we should not tell them everything," he added with a wink directed at Jacen. "Some things they will have to find out for themselves."

"You are leaving for Bakura? When?" It was Luzaya Dan, her tea cup held delicately in her right hand, who posed that question. "How interesting. What kind of mission will that be?"

"No mission at all," Jaina said grimly, astounded at her own hostility. Everyone was staring at her queerly, she saw, and Jacen was shaking his head in disapproval. Well! He could disapprove all he wanted! She was not the one with the starry eyes!

Taking on the diplomatic duties, Jacen nodded toward the Sith princess and smiled. "There have been threats of terrorist acts on the world Bakura, and we are to aid in the investigations."

"Terrorist acts?" Luzaya repeated, her voice cool. "What sense would there be in launching terrorist acts on such a remote world?"

"A world that is a very important supplier of repulsor equipment," Anakin Skywalker injected. "Economic reasons, I suppose."

"Or else a distraction," Mahel Sivaraya commented quietly. "Your Highness, this might be worth investigating for our own cause," he explained with a meaningful nod.

The princess shot him a frown, but then grew seemingly thoughtful. "If this is a distraction, then our place should be elsewhere," she mused aloud.

"But we do not have any other lead to follow for now," he reminded her, and Jaina found herself looking on in fascination. She had the distinct feeling that they were following a prescribed script of sorts, but she had no idea yet whose brain-child that script had been in the first place.

"Perhaps Mahel is right;" Grandfather advised. "Andarack's report made it clear that the Cor'dan suspects the conspirators to consist of insiders and outsiders. While he is searching for those within the Empire, you could try to uncover those without."

"I disagree," Mother countered sternly. "Luzaya Dan is a foreign dignitary in the New Republic and should not be seen prosecuting our own citizens as if she were a bounty-hunter. She must contact official New Republic authorities and make a request for their assistance."

The moment her mother had said that, Jaina knew exactly what would follow. So it had truly been her grandfather who had staged this little scene, and she felt true admiration for his skills, even though she had no clue what he was aiming for. Looking across the table she kept her eyes on Luzaya Dan and saw the princess' pretty features take on a very calculating expression. Luzaya gave Mahel a questioning look, seeking confirmation that he gave with a tiny nod, then turned to gaze at Jacen with her most winning smile.

"In that case," she announced, "I should appeal to the two of you to take me and Mahel with you on your investigation. I promise, we will not interfere in your work, simply observe and share your findings, if you permit it."

"That is – " Leia began to protest, realizing too late what she had sparked, but Grandfather interrupted her as gently as he could.

"It is a very good idea." Anakin's voice carried such a tone of finalty that no one dared say a word for five seconds afterward.

"If you say so," Mother agreed at last, lips compressed into a thin line. She was not content with his decision, Jaina could see, and neither was she, for having Luzaya along was the least thing she could wish for. Jacen, of course, would be delirious. But the word had been spoken, and now there was nothing more to add without causing a family row. With an ill-concealed sigh, Jaina propped her chin on her hands and shook her head. Perhaps things would become easier once they were away from Naboo, but she had no real hopes there. Great. Just great.

The next morning Padmé Amidala Naberrie stood beside her husband and her daughter, saying last goodbyes to her grandchildren. Hugging both Jacen and Jaina tightly she was smiling, even though there was a little sorrow in her heart. "Be careful," she admonished them for the hundredst time, and saw Jacen roll his eyes in exasperation.

"We shall be keeping an eye on them," Mahel Sivaraya told her pleasantly, his tall frame looming over all of them.

Jaina, Padmé noticed, shot the Yuuzhan Vong an evil glare, but he was right after all. He was the oldest among them, and probably the one with the most experience concerning battle. Standing by his side, Luzaya Dan was smiling to herself, a practised mask, Padmé believed, and not comforting in the least. She went forward to hug the princess, whose smile turned sincere as the two women embraced.

"Do not worry, truly," Luzaya repeated her bodyguard's assurances. "We won't be endangering them in any way."

"Good," Padmé murmured, then stepped aside to make room for her husband.

Anakin was smiling down at the princess, then put his hands on her shoulders and nodded at her. "Remember what I told you, Luzaya Dan. You are making this journey to learn. About yourself and this galaxy, most of all."

"I know," she answered timidly, inclining her head in acceptance. "And I shall remember."

Joining his wife, Anakin laid an arm around Padmé shoulders, drawing her closer. He was smiling, she saw, a grim smile, that frightened her somewhat. She could tell by the look in Leia's eyes that their daughter had seen it too. But only when they had at last seen the children and their friends off, with Jaina and Jacen manning the pilot and co-pilot seats of the small yacht the Council had assigned them to, did she dare pose the last question.

"Is this part of what you have planned? You, Tomas and Thrawn?" Padmé asked quietly, turning so she could look her husband in the face.

"Part of it, yes," he nodded, his eyes flicking over to where Leia stood. "We have to stand together, all of us, to help the Sith Empire overcome this crisis. That concerns you most of all, Leia. Are you willing to take up that burden?"

The Princess gave a shrug and smiled wryly. "I fear I am not given much choice. I can only stand for my own views and defend them."

"Even against your own government?" Anakin asked quietly, shocking not only his daughter.

"What is going to happen?" Leia demanded, aghast.

And so he told them.

For a long time afterward, Padmé found herself staring off into the distance, her heart clenched with sorrow and her mind blank with pity. She could not imagine how anyone could be so cold about any of this, as cold as Naas Deron was, who had sent Luzaya away deliberately, accompanied by a Yuuzhan Vong warrior with questionable parentage. She could not imagine how Yana felt about her daughter's leaving, wondered how much of the truth the empress knew, or her husband, for that matter. If they knew, they were being very, very brave. Lowering her gaze, Padmé found the thought heartening, that Anakin's confession of his knowledge as Cor'dan had strengthened Leia's resolve to interfere on behalf of the Sith Empire. A hard struggle for her, and it even might be the end of her political career. Yet she had not even hesitated in her vow to defend what needed to be defended: Luzaya Dan's future, and that of the Empire.

"They're here!" Khameir's joyful yell reverbrated throughout the entire house, as he trampled down the staircase to the front-door, almost falling in his haste to get down into the central hallway. And still, to his great dismay, Raisa was there before him, and already opening the door when he arrived, breathless. "Aw, come on!" he protested, standing with his fists propped on his hips, a stern expression on his face as he confronted his adopted grandmother, who looked more than a little guilty.

"Is that how you repay Raisa's hospitality? By being rude?" his mother asked then, and her son's hands flew behind his back instantly, fidgeting, while he waited for her to enter at last.

"Sorry," he managed, lowering his head, and a moment later his father's laughter rang through the corridor as he ruffled Khameir's thick, curly hair.

"Never mind, son," Luke Skywalker announced graciously. "This is excellent practise for when you'll be getting married. You'll see." The Jedi Master turned toward Raisa Tobyn, smiling, and continued, "I am sorry, but I cannot stay for very long and I also fear we will have to deprive you of your cheeky grandson too."

"Cheeky!" Khameir began to protest, but a look from his mother's golden eyes silenced him instantly. "Where're we going anyway?" he added a little sullenly.

"You are leaving with your mother for Naboo, to collect your sister," his father explained.

"And where are you going?" Raisa inquired, closing the door at last.

"A short trip into Imperial space," Father explained lightly, but Khameir noticed the flash of worry in his mother's eyes. "And don't worry, I will be careful," the Jedi Master addressed all of them, but his son had a feeling that he was specifically speaking to him.

"Can't I come with you?" the boy asked earnestly, feeling that he was being sold short somehow.

His mother shook her head. "Your father and I have already discussed this, Khameir. You are coming with me. I doubt we'll be staying on Naboo for long, though," she added. Someone's got to keep an eye on this Pawal," she continued grimly, and shot her husband a questioning glance.

"Not Ordesha," Luke replied, shaking his head. "Not with the children," he cautioned her, causing a stab of anger to pierce his son's heart. But Khameir kept silent. It would not do to voice childish protest. He needed to earn their respect and trust with the manner of an adult, that he had learned early on.

Nuron Sarin-Skywalker arched her brows challengingly and folded her arms across her chest. "And why not?" she asked. "Luke, Ordesha is probably the least dangerous place for us to go."

"It's Kell's home world," Father reminded her, looking doubtful.

"Exactly. That's why it is safe," Mother countered with a smile. "Don't you think so, Khameir?" she added, looking directly at her son, who flushed a darker shade of bronze at the unexpected question.

He understood that his mother was giving him a chance to prove his insight, to prove to both her and his father that he was no child.  Composing himself, he thought fast, then nodded. "Indeed," he said gravely. "As home world to the Cor'dan, the planet is a focus of the Force, and therefore protected. If we observe the balance of the world, we should be safe."

"Where better to take the children, and teach them?" Mother added with a smile. "And Khameir can watch out for both me and Amerie," she continued, when she noticed the doubtful look on her husband's face.

He threw up his hands in resignation. "All right," he sighed. "I can see your mind is set. But, Nuron, Khameir, I ask you both to be careful."

"Aren't they always?" Raisa murmured, then ran a hand through Khameir's hair, just as his father had done. "I'll miss the little ones, though."

Khameir patiently endured her affections, reasoning that it would be very impolite to protest her calling him 'little'. She had watched him grow up, after all, and he had accepted that he would probably remain a 'little one' to his grandparents for quite some time. Not to mention his parents.

"Then that is settled," Father announced. "I got to leave as soon as possible."

"Take the Morning Glory," Mother told him gently. "We can hitch a ride on the Falcon."

"And get to Ordesha how?"

"We'll figure something out," she told her husband pleasantly. "But I would feel better if you took our ship." Leaning forward, she placed a light kiss on Luke's lips. "All right?"

Sure," he mumbled, then shot a quick grin at Khameir. "Take care of the girls for me," he told the boy, then bowed slightly toward the three of them. "May the Force be with you."

"No!" He had to almost run to catch up with his wife, as Yana was striding purposefully down the hallway, fuming. "You cannot do that!" Franzis Sarreti growled, truly angry. "I will not give my consent, you can count on that!"

"I don't need your consent," she snapped over her shoulder, her blue eyes flashing. "I happen to be Empress."

"And that's why you have a certain responsibility toward your people," he beseeched her, carefully reaching out to take hold of her sleeve. She twisted out of his grasp angrily, and quickened her steps. "Yana!" Rolling his eyes in exasperation, the Royal Consort hastened after his retreating wife, then firmly took hold of her arm and dragged her into one of the adjoining rooms, where he could be certain they would not be overheard. She held her head high, ignoring her hold on her deliberately. "Listen," he said in a low voice, "no matter how angry you might be, Ambassadors Beryd and Nawa will certainly report back to their respective superiors, and you can guess what either President Fey'lya and Emperor Ja'han'mandana will think on such action."

"As if I care!" she exclaimed. "Elu Cha is murdered and you suggest I do nothing?"

"Let Deron handle it, the deception sect itself, but heaven's, Yana, don't take revenge. Don't."

She glared at him, keeping a stony silence. When the news of High Priest Elu Cha's violent death had reached them this morning, Yana had been furious. And in her initial anger she had ordered every single Yuuzhan Vong of high office to be incarcerated, awaiting questioning. It was the worst possible choice she could have made, even though her patience had finally run out. He could tell by the look in her eyes that she did not understand why he of all people would not be in agreement with her. After all, she was doing all of this for him, or so she believed. They had made no progress at all in tracking down the traitors who had repeatedly tried to assassinate the Royal Consort, and that lack of success had evolved into a matter of pride for the temperamental ruler of the Sith Empire. 

"Why should I not be hard on them?" she asked then, her voice very cold. "If they refuse to respect their freedom and interpret it as leniency on my part, I can change that anytime. They can have a tyrant to rule them, if they want it so much. I have no problem there," she sneered, then turned away, her shoulders heaving with emotion.

"Yana," her husband told her soothingly, "you are only playing into the hands of whoever is trying to split the public opinion. Every Imperial citizen out there who harbors any grudge against the Yuuzhan Vong will applaud your action, and that will drive the stake separating them from the Yuuzhan Vong even deeper. If you seek justice, you must deploy it equally."

Turning to face him, her eyes flashed balefully, causing him to take a step back. "But I am doing exactly what they want me to do," she hissed, smiling grimly. "Now we only have to wait and see who will approve of my action, and we will have a lead to follow."

Franzis shook his head at her all too simple reasoning. It was the anger speaking, he knew, and it bothered him immensely. "I will go and talk to the Cor'dan, ask for his advice. Promise me that you won't put anyone to the question until I am back," he added wryly.

"Promise," she replied with a sigh, her features softening for the first time that day. Then, moving almost shyly, she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him closer, for a kiss. "Franzis," she whispered, once they had disengaged at last. "Do you believe that I am being too hard? Truly so? Would you not do the same, were you in my place?"

He shook his head again. "Never wish I were in your place, Yana. You are doing so much better than I would. Please, keep a cool head now. Don't do anything rash. Don't make me stop you the hard way either," he added quietly.

A look of hurt crossed her blue eyes then. "Would you?" she questioned. "Would you truly do that to me?"

Inclining his head, he felt her anguish echoed in his own heart. "I have a responsibility to our people, just as you do. So let's try not to hurt one another. All right?"

"All right," she answered, nodding like a school-girl who had just been chastised by her favourite teacher.

Franzis gave her one last look, yearning to embrace her, then turned away to leave. Ever since Luzaya had left Yana's temper had been worsening with every day that had passed without their investigations coming to any conclusion at all. She wanted to take revenge, he could feel it. And it frightened him. As he hurried through the Citadel's hallways, always shadowed by six bodyguards these times, he felt his heart ache with worry over both his wife and his daughter. Somehow he had a feeling that things were slipping out of his control, and that was something he had difficulty dealing with. Perhaps Naas Deron would have some counsel to give. Unfortunately, he was sorely disappointed by the Cor'dan in that regard.

"Who do you think I am?" the tall Sith Lord asked coldly. "A politician? If she wants to run her head against the wall, who am I to stop her?"

"But you have a responsibility too," Franzis argued. "Have you made any progress in tracking the traitors down?"

"Progress?" Naas Deron growled. "My hands are bound, you fool!" he exclaimed harshly. "I have saved your life twice, Your Highness, and I cannot do more. I can only watch now. All I could do I have done. Why won't you understand that?"

Taken aback, Sarreti shook his head. "You will just stand by?"

"For the time being," Deron replied hoarsely. "A piece of advice, though: keep a close eye on your wife, if you can. She is running through a mine field blind-folded. You must be her guide, her protector."

"I am that. Always," Franzis said, resigned. "But I wish I were better at the job."

With a laugh, Naas Deron slapped his back hard. "You are doing well enough, Your Highness! Well enough indeed."

Naas Deron was watching the Royal Consort's expression very closely as Franzis Sarreti visibly struggled to understand what the Cor'dan was telling him. The Sith Lord could see the confusion melt away gradually as revelation dawned, and soon surprise had turned into suspicion. Taking a long step back, Franzis Sarreti shook his head before he said, "I cannot do this all by myself," he declared. "I require your assistance. No matter what. I refuse to accept that you cannot help me now. What have you done to be left with no options at this point of time?" he continued, grey eyes narrowed.

Deron stiffened at that, cursing the Royal Consort's sharp wit. "As I already told you," he replied softly, "any intervention on my part is unnecessary as long as you are keeping watch over your wife," he explained. "I do have options, of course, but I'd rather not make use of what possibilities I do have right now. My power is best used at a different point of time."

"When?" Sarreti asked sharply. "When will it become necessary for you to intervene?"

"Only if you fail," Naas Deron answered. "And now, Your Highness, I would advise you to return to the Empress' side, where you belong."

"That is your last word?"

"Yes."

"Very well." With a curt nod, Franzis Sarreti whirled around and stalked away without a further word or another glance directed at the Cor'dan.

Once he had left the Temple of Rebirth, deserted safe for its guardian at this time of the day, Naas Deron permitted himself to curse aloud. If there was one thing he truly hated it was inactivity. In all of his warrior training he had been taught to take action if necessary and be patient when prudent. All of his instincts now told him that inaction was the absolutely wrong choice to take in this situation, but his instincts did not count for very much. Whenever he even considered what he might be doing, the bonds that held him captive as Cor'dan would quell any will of his own to truly put his consideration into action. So all that was left to him was to watch and silently rail against millennia of tradition and an overwhelming force that held his mind prisoner.

The only choice he truly had was to numb his own emotions, to make himself indifferent to the fate of those around him, so he would have no emotion to distract him once the time to interfere truly came. It would come, that he knew. He had seen it on Mahel Sivaraya's Naming Day, when the young Yuuzhan Vong who had once been called Lomin Carr had chosen to follow the Cor'dan's path of balance. Blade Wielder, his new name signified, and Naas Deron thought with grim satisfaction of the young alien's future. He had noticed, as had the empress and her consort and many more, that Chi'in clan Rim'kai had not appointed a successor to his post as Dark Lord of the Sith. There was no way for the empress to choose a warlord herself, since that choice had been made in the Noghri's capacity as the Empire's primary military protector. His choice was therefore to be regarded as a calculated one, and respected as such. And for as long as a Dark Lord was not needed, this was a valid choice too. Yet Naas Deron knew that soon now the Empire would once more require the services of a supreme commander.

That commander could be no other than Mahel Sivaraya.

The boy was the perfect choice. As son to the late Yuuzhan Vong warmaster Marayl Carr he had learned everything about warfare that could have been learned, he was a warrior at heart, and a smart one at that. Being shunned by his family domain, he had had the opportunity to broaden his horizon, and the fact that he had accepted Naas Deron as his mentor had opened his mind to the Cor'dan's vision of what the Sith Empire should be in the future. Had to be. And yet there would have to be sacrifices to be made for that vision to come true, too. One of them was staying idle now, though Deron itched to punish the traitors who threatened the very balance he sought to protect. Yet if he chose to single-handedly end the conspiracy that aimed at dethroning Yana Dar and her consort, an easy feat for someone who knew exactly where to look for the conspirators, he would have forsaken the vision he knew he had to fulfil. Other factors needed to come into play, other players had to enter the game. Only then could the future be ensured safely and lastingly.

With a tiny sigh, Deron stepped toward the central altar set into the temple's center. He put his palm flat on the rough surface of the stone, then closed his eyes, as the shadows flowed toward him from every corner, wrapping him in a cloak of darkness, as befitted his title. Connecting his mind to that of the yammosk slumbering on distant Kynda'bey, the Cor'dan searched for his pawns far from home, the princess and her guardian. He found them soon, and on their way to the other end of the galaxy, if he was any judge. What they meant to

accomplish there was a riddle to him, and he frowned in response to his own uncertainty. Yet their decision did feel right somehow.

Setting his jaw grimly, the Cor'dan shifted his mind's focus to the center of darkness he could sense even without the yammosk. Yana Dar was feeding her vengeful emotions diligently, frustrated at the lack of success in her investigations and worried over both her husband and her daughter. She was, perhaps unwillingly, confirming her enemies in their stance toward her, which was, in essence, not a very good move on her part. Deron had a feeling that she relied on the Cor'dan to interfere, as he had promised her. But it was not quite time for that yet. More had to happen to allow him to act.

Much more.

TBC