"Master Skywalker, a pleasure to have you here," Ja'han'mandana welcomed his guest cordially, and Luke smiled in response, taken in by the emperor's good mood. Seated in a high-backed chair in his office the Chiss seemed alert and vibrant, as always. His eye implants were gleaming like rainbow gems, and Luke could tell that the Empress' gift had been received very well. "Take a seat, both of you," Ja'han'mandana continued, excluding General Kalo'wyn, who took up position next to the door instantly. "Who is your friend?"

"Your Majesty, may I present to you Bray La, formerly customs officer on Weyla, now resident of Nirauan," Luke offered, and shot his companion a small smile. He could tell that the Falleen was nervous, no matter how hard he fought to keep a calm composure. And even though the Chiss emperor was not Force-sensitive, he caught up on his guest's mood as easily as if he were.

Folding his hands on the top of his desk he said, "Be at ease, Bray La, no one will harm you here. General Kalo'wyn has already informed me of you extensive knowledge concerning Domain Carr and your brilliant plan of neutralising the threat it poses. But please, be seated, both of you."

They followed his request and sat themselves down in front of the desk, with Bray La sitting at the very edge of his chair. "Your Majesty, do you have news from Naboo?" Luke asked then, hoping to hear of the latest developments concerning Yana Dar and her daughter's disappearance.

"There is indeed something you should see. I have had my aide record the transmission. It is off Coruscant Daily, and was broadcast only a couple of hours ago. Have a look." He gestured toward the wall to his left, and Luke nodded at the young aide who moved to prepare the presentation. "I have an inkling of what will follow this, but see for yourselves."

Alarmed, Luke turned his chair to get a better view of the holo-recording, with Bray La following his example somewhat reluctantly. He felt uncomfortable in the emperor's presence that much was clear, and he felt insecure in these strange surroundings, which were not his world at all. "Everything is well," Luke whispered softly and put a hand on his companion's shoulder

"Are you sure?" Bray La retorted weakly. He turned his head around carefully, a sorrowful expression on his face. "I have a bad feeling about this, you know?"

Luke flashed him a reassuring grin and said, "Don't worry. We're safe for now. As for later- we'll see."

"Silence, please," Ja'han'mandana admonished them promptly. "This is actually very interesting."

The Jedi Master refocused his attention on the recording and frowned. It was indeed a report off Coruscant Daily. He did not know the reporter, a round-bellied human male of less than average height and unusual perspiration, but then, he was more interested in what he had to say. The reporter's face was flushed an unhealthy red and he seemed to be standing in front of the Senate building on Coruscant. "This is Turve Glat with a special report on the deteriorating relations between the New Republic and the Sith Empire," he began breathlessly. "According to an inside source the empress has ceased all communications with Coruscant, despite the fact that her daughter is still presumably missing in Republic territory. Rumours have it that this supposed kidnapping has been a ruse fabricated by the empress and the Council of Naboo to excuse the means Yana Dar is said to prepare to strengthen her position. There are rumours of suspending civil rights and of prison camps used to intern political dissents. Of course, none of those have been confirmed, but experts claim that it is only a matter of time until that happens. The NRI reportedly is preparing a dossier on exactly those rumours and the truth of them. The J.A.F. Media Group will keep you posted. This is Turve Glat, on Coruscant Daily."

"They blame the Council?" Luke asked once the recording had stopped. He turned his head to face Ja'han'mandana, who was watching him intently, as if there was something else he knew that he waited for Luke to say aloud. "If so, then this has been long planned and begun even before Doctor Anteres Plawal asked us for assistance in his investigation of the demise of the Yevetha."

"They are trying to take both the Empress and the Council down, obviously," the emperor confirmed. "My agents in New Republic space, though, have uncovered additional information that could shed some light on the proceedings. We will speak to them shortly. In the mean-time, let me fill you in on the most recent report they gave me. Follow me, please," he added, then rose from his seat. Luke instantly bounded out of his chair, with Bray La not far behind. The two of them shared an uneasy glance, then joined the emperor as he made his way from the office, with General Kalo'wyn falling in step behind him as guard. "To illustrate that report, let me show you something," Ja'han'mandana continued, and waited until one of the servants that stood all along the hallway had opened one of the doors. Beyond lay an extensive chamber, the throne room, Luke realised as they passed the dais on which was perched the simple chair that served the Chiss emperor as seat of office. "General, will you be so good?" the emperor asked and waited for the general to step up to what looked like a comm console. Only then did Ja'han'mandana sit down on the throne. "Come over here, don't be shy," he invited his guests, who joined him on the dais somewhat reluctantly. "General?"

"Yes, Majesty, of course." Kalo'wyn worked the console deftly and suddenly a part of the wall in front of him moved aside to reveal a large screen. A moment later a familiar sight appeared on the blank space and lit it up with a labyrinth of yellow and black. "You know the labyrinth on Laa'kuan, Master Skywalker," the general begun. "We have been keeping an eye on it ever since the war against the invading Yuuzhan Vong ended. Technically, the planet is a neutral zone, used both by the Star Alliance as a place of worship and as barometer to measure whatever it is he measures by the Cor'dan himself. We know that because he has told us that, and because we know it from his predecessor, your father, who used to visit this place from time to time, contrary to Deron. As you know, the labyrinth depicts the galaxy and some of the parts beyond. Each planet is represented by a glow-stone. The dimmer the stone, the more danger, the more violence prevails on that world. You can see that the cluster representing the core worlds of the Sith Empire, especially Byss, are teeming with violence. The outlying regions, though, seem neutral, though not as bright as, say, the Star People's territories. So we know that indeed a crisis has befallen Byss, and that Naas Deron is unable to handle it, or is still trying to gain control over that crisis. But that is not the most interesting point about this recording, a live-feed, by the way. Can you spot the unusual, Master Skywalker?"

Stepping closer, Luke cocked his head to the side and began to study the image more closely, but at the same time a growing felling of anxiety urged him to look at the centre of the labyrinth, where decades ago Roj Kell's mortal remains had found their last resting place. Back then the Yuuzhan Vong had buried the guardian of their past in a grand ceremony. A burial mound had been erected to hold the battered body of the slain Cor'dan and Luke could see nothing unusual about the tomb itself. Yet he felt uncomfortably reminded of the message that had been written on the walls of that cave on N'zoth. He remembered that Roj Kell had claimed that what had been taken could not be returned, that what he had meant was that he could not survive as anything less than Cor'dan. What if he had survived as something different? The Jedi Master shook his head in disbelief. No, that could not be. Twenty years had passed since he had died and nothing hinted at his continued existence. Yet, if he had truly survived ...

"Look closer, " Ja'han'mandana whispered at him, the sudden sound making Luke jump, despite himself. "One can almost read the scripture left on the walls of the labyrinth now," the emperor continued. "And if we zoom in even more -" he waited for Kalo'wyn to comply " - you can see that the ground surrounding the tomb has been disturbed only recently. We know for certain that the community of the Star People does not use the centre of the labyrinth as place of worship any longer, not since Lord Kell died there. So, who has visited that grave? An interesting question, don't you think? I thought that perhaps, since you will be travelling into that territory anyway, you could investigate further on Laa'kuan. It is in our all interest to know exactly what is going on there, don't you think?" he added coolly.

Luke felt a shudder run down his back. "Yes, certainly," he answered at last. "Then you will allow me to search for Warrahm Domain Carr and enlist her help?"

"Mith'raw'noruodo suggested this. He and Lord Skywalker seem very keen on getting the Chiss involved. Something to do with future power plays, I assume. Not that I mind. General, what about that line to Coruscant?"

"The encrypt is still running, Majesty," the soldier replied calmly. "It is only a matter of time."

Luke saw Ja'han'mandana give a slow smile and felt his concern deepen.

"Isn't it always?" the emperor asked. "There is more, Master Skywalker. Naas Deron himself has contacted me personally. No, general, you do not know about that. It happened very recently. Just before you came in." His rainbow eyes narrowed into angry slits. "Yana Dar and her Royal Consort have been imprisoned and Jiliha n'Averone has taken control. Deron finds himself unable to free the empress and Franzis Sarreti, though his reasons remain obscure. I suspect he is playing a different game."

"They are prisoners?" Luke gasped, shock registering in his brain. "Then we are too late!"

Ja'han'mandana shook his head. "No, not yet. I told you that Mith'raw'noruodo and your father have already prepared their forces. They know more than they let on and they won't tell me. This is not the worst of our problems, I think."

He cocked his head to the side, as if expecting Luke to fill him in on the details, but the Jedi Master could only shake his head. "I fear I do not know more than you do," he confessed. "Can we speak to Deron?"

"He has gone to ground. I suggest we plan our operations without counting on him. What input he can give us, no matter how sporadically, will certainly be welcome, but we cannot rely on that. I rather think we should rely on your father's insight. I have asked Jixton to contact him and include him in our little round."

Luke nodded. "Let's hope he can shed some light on this mess."

Anakin Skywalker felt drained and old. Hell, he was old. It was just a shame that now he felt it more than a year or so ago. Not a comfortable thought. Letting the door to his apartment on Coruscant slide close, he wondered whether Mon Mothma and Bred Antham felt just as drained as he did. The trio had gone their separate ways once they had come back to their quarters, each lost in thought. The message from Niki Beryd, no matter hwat lies she hid teh truth in, had hit them all hard. As hard as the hostility against the Empress that permeated the New Republic Senate. It was bad, he thought, worse than he had anticipated, worse than even the Seeker had hinted at. What had changed since he had last questioned the program? What new variables had entered the game? With a sigh he dropped down onto the single couch and started, when he saw a man standing opposite from him. Had he been too preoccupied to sense him? Were his senses becoming so dull? Anakin Skywalker frowned briefly, ascertained the man's identity and relaxed, smiling ever so slightly. "Jix," he said aloud. "I did not expect to see you here."

"Would it be bad if I told you that I did?" the Corellian replied lightly. "We gotta talk, your lordship."

"You've heard the news?" Anakin sighed, his exhaustion returning once more. "About Yana?"

"That's why we gotta talk," Jix confirmed. "Not here, though."

He moved toward the door, and Anakin rose to join him. "Why so secretive?" He did not ask where they were going. "What is wrong?"

The Corellian shrugged. "You know what. We can't really trust anyone but ourselves." He quirked a smile. "Just like the old days, eh?"

"I wish it wasn't," Anakin answered gruffly. "I wish we could live in peace for once."

"Fat chance of that happening." Jix whispered. "Come along. You'll be surprised, I grant you that."

"Oh," the former Dark Lord growled, "good."

He did not bother to keep track of their surroundings as Jix led the way through the streets of the city. He was wondering instead how this surprise visit would affect the game. If game it could be called at all. At last, though, they had reached their destination, and it was not quite what he had expected. They had entered an old hangar, and a ship was concealed within, a familiar shape. Mara Jade's ship. Taken momentarily aback, Anakin gazed at the Corellian who had once been his agent, and saw the man grin. He should have guessed that Mara would not be far, he scolded himself. "Is that your surprise?" he grumbled. "A chat with old friends?"

"Not quite that. Come on."

The two of them reached the ship's hull and Jix worked the lock to open the outer hatch. Taking the lead again he went ahead, then motioned for Skywalker to wait, until he had secured the hatch once more. Only then did he take his visitor to the central hold of the vessel. Three familiar faces greeted Anakin there. Mara Jade, of course, beautiful with her thick red hair and sparkling green eyes, her features somewhat softened by the years. She threw him a mock salute, then stepped back to allow him full view of the other two occupants of the hold. There was Luzaya Dan, sitting ramrod straight in her seat, looking uncomfortable and tense. Looming next to her was her Yuuzhan Vong bodyguard, still as a statue.

"That is indeed a surprise," Anakin hissed. "Child!" he exclaimed then, and crossed the distance to the princess in a few strides. "You know?" he asked then, concern mingling with fear. Fear for her.

"I know," she nodded, and he thought he saw tears glisten in her eyes. "Thank you for your concern," she added formally.

"I am your god-father," he whispered. "You can trust me."

"Can I?" she replied challengingly. "Can I truly? Did you see that damn holo-recording?"

"The one showing my grand-children slaying a Yuuzhan Vong claimed to be your bodyguard?" he asked dryly. "That accusation is easy to dissemble, I'd say," he added with a meaningful look at Mahel. "Or did you mean the one off Coruscant Daily?"

"Yes." Luzaya's pale blue eyes were burning with anger. "I thought they had betrayed me," she whispered at last, her tone fierce. "I believed my mother had betrayed her every ideal. Does this confirm my worry?"

"She was betrayed," he replied softly. "Never believe anything else. She did not mean to destroy her vision. They did it."

"What about Deron? What about him?" she demanded, suddenly angry. "He is sworn to protect the Empire. Why isn't he doing anything? You were Cor'dan, Anakin. Can you tell me what this means?" she asked, suddenly desperate.

"That he has no other choice," he explained quietly. "He had to let it happen." He refrained from adding that there was even more that the Cor'dan had no chance to prevent.

"And that is the answer?" she shook her head, then gazed up at her bodyguard. "Mahel suggested we speak to the Emperor Ja'han'mandana."

"That is why you are here," Jix added then, addressing Skywalker. "I thought it prudent to include you, since you are conveniently on planet." He threw Anakin a long look. "Luke is on Csilla. And Ja'han'mandana thinks it imperative that you are included in this discussion."

"And what about Leia?"

"You fill her in," the Corellian said dismissively. "Once we're done here. Now let's get that line to Csilla running."

Luke Skywalker stood beside the throne, anxious for the general to finally get that feed to Coruscant up. Beside him Bray La stood unmoving, perhaps awed by the proceedings, intimidated, or simply indifferent. It was hard to tell with the Falleen. The Jedi Master spared a brief glance for his companion, and smiled. Bray La had told him a bit about his relationship with Alamys Jorka, and he wondered whether the Falleen thought it would be a similar one that bound him to the man's grand-son. Well, Luke wasn't mad, was not swallowed half or more by the Dark Side, as Alamys had been. He shuddered. Failure was too easy and darkness never out of reach. A sobering thought. He thought of Yana Dar and Franzis Sarreti, of Luzaya Dan, who was somewhere out there, neither one aware of the others' fate. He dearly hoped the three of them were all right.

"All will be well," a smooth voice said then, from his right, and Luke turned his head to nod at the emperor. There was a man who knew the true power of diplomacy and forgiveness. And it was clear to him why the Council was looking to the Chiss for help. If anyone could handle this crisis it was their emperor. Ja'han'mandana had been hurt bad in the last battle against the Yuuzhan Vong some twenty years ago. He had lost both eyes in that trial, but they had been replaced by Yuuzhan Vong implants, a gift offered by Yana Dar as reconciliation. It had to be a special bond between the two rulers, Luke thought, remembering the outrage this offer had caused among senior diplomats of the New Republic, who were quick to condemn the Empress' offer as cruel reminder of what the Chiss had suffered in the Yuuzhan Vong invasion. But Ja'han'mandana had received the gift with grace and gratitude. It was a trademark of the monarch, and proof of his intelligence and the uncanny knack he had for reading people like a holo-novel. That he was to be head of the operation had been inevitable. Anakin had to have known that the Council itself would not be able to act on its own. Another chilling thought.

"Your Majesty, the feed is online and secure," Kalo'ewyn announced at last.

"Finally," the emperor breathed. "Jixton?"

"Yeah, I'm here," came the audio reply.

Luke saw Ja'han'mandana smile. "And you have arranged for your guests to attend this session?"

" 'Course. They're all here. Just go ahead. We can hear you."

"Very well." Pursing his lips, his rainbow eyes gleaming, Ja'han'mandana steepled his fingers in front of his face thoughtfully. "First of all, greetings to you," he began, "and let us proceed immediately. You have heard that damnable report on Coruscant Daily and the supposed break of diplomatic ties between the New Republic and the Sith Empire?"

"Jiliha n'Averone brought that particular news to the New Republic Senate herself."

"She is bold, I have to grant her that," the emperor mused aloud. "But I have additional information, just like your son does. Let us enlighten you."

"With pleasure," came the reply.

"Good. Yana Dar and Franzis Sarreti have already been imprisoned and the Temple of Rebirth has been destroyed. Jiliha n'Averone is not without opposition, though. The Cor'dan is working against her diligently, and for now she is focussing her efforts on subduing him. Which is good for him, actually."

"How so?"

"You do not seem overly surprised to hear of the empress' plight," Ja'han'mandana suggested, then continued, "Deron is a good strategist, who had excellent teachers. And he is Cor'dan, of course. As your son has uncovered, he has played a card that will gain him victory in the end even before we knew there would be a conflict."

Luke felt somewhat taken aback. He had what? But then his father cut in, "Which would be?"

"Domain Carr," the Chiss explained. "We have reason to assume that he is counting on their opposing n'Averone."

"Domain Carr hates Yana," Anakin reasoned. "What makes you think they would support Deron?"

"Not Deron. But one of their own ..."

"Mahel Sivaraya is an outcast," the former Dark Lord interrupted him, catching the monarch's meaning as quickly as ever, and Luke was only left to gape in astonishment. He had never ever thought of that before! "They will not raise a hand to support him," Anakin concluded.

"You may misjudge their motives," the Emperor countered calmly. "Jiliha's injustice against the Yuuzhan Vong gives Domain Carr a chance to rise up as their people's saviour. Your son will make that offer to them. But we need to make certain that they also have a personal stake in this." A small smile appeared on his lips and was gone again. "Domain Carr has profited enough from our trade with the Corporate Sector and the Confederate Zone. I have a very able and experienced customs officer here, who will assist me in planning and implementing that operation. He has intimate knowledge of Domain Carr. Which reminds me – Mahel Sivaraya is with you?"

"Yes," came a young voice, rough from having been silent for some time while he had been listening. "What is your plan?"

"Send your charge to Csilla," Ja'han'mandana offered. "She will be safe here, and at the centre of things."

Luke cringed when a young female voice cried out, "What about my parents?" Luzaya Dan seemed close to tears as she continued, "What do you mean, they have been imprisoned? Anakin! Did you know? Did you know that would happen?"

"Child, I - " Anakin tried, but Luzaya raged on, "Don't call me that! I am no child! Yuu knew! You did not see fit to tell me, none of you had that courage! I hate you!"

"Luzaya -," Mahel tried, but she obviously would not listen, for a moment later he reported, "She's left. I should follow her -"

"You will stay," Ja'han'mandana snapped, his tone cutting through the tense atmosphere like ice. "Stay and listen. Mara, go after the princess and see to it that she does not leave the ship."

"As ordered, Majesty," Mara Jade's voice replied. There was silence for a moment.

Then Ja'han'mandana continued, "We have only one chance to weather this crisis and uncover this conspiracy. Anakin Skywalker has allowed me to head this operation and I expect every one of you to follow my orders. That includes you too, Mahel Sivaraya. You will give yourself up to the New Republic authorities."


"What!" Luke heard the young warrior cry out. "Why?"

"So we can offer the enemy a victory. Trust me in this. You all will have to trust me exclusively. Can you do that? Lord Skywalker?"

Luek held his breath as he waited for his father's answer, which was awfully long in coming. "I trust you, Ja'han'mandana," the former Dark Lord said at last.

"Excellent. How about you, Master Skywalker?" the Chiss continued and turned his head to look straight at Luke. "Do you trust me?"

"I do. But I would be grateful if you could fill me in on what you two seem to know."

Ja'han'mandana gazed at him in silence for a long time. And then he told him.

"You know you cannot win this game," Franzis Saretti said calmly. He was seated on the edge o f the single bed, stroking his wife's hand while he faced his jailer down. But Jiliha seemed unimpressed.

"You know why I have come, Franzis," she told him. "You do not have to play the martyr and I could use your input. Come on, can you rally forsake this chance to start anew? You can fashion this empire after your own wishes, without always being restrained. You can make your own vision come true. Something she never dared," she added with a flick of her hand directed at Yana's still form.

Franzis mustered a cold smile. "You truly came here believing that I would betray my wife? Perhaps you do not know me as well as you think you did."

"What do you have got to lose?" she continued, apparently determined to ignore his reasoning. "You have always stood in her shadow, never been allowed to push your reforms through the way you wanted. I can give you that, Franzis. I can give you that freedom."

"And stand against the rest of the galaxy? Do you truly think the New Republic would allow me to rule? They never trusted me. And they won't trust you either, not when they learn of what you have done." He gave her a quick, cold smile. "Not to mention the fact that you are not without opposition here on Byss either. I am certain that enough of Yana's supporters will protest your rise to power and the Yuuzhan Vong will certainly refuse to follow you." He raised his brows questioningly. "Tell me, Jiliha, do you have your bodyguards with you at all times? Do you truly believe you can escape Deron, once he decides you've caused enough harm?"

She merely smiled at him, then said, "Franzis, dear, you do not seem to realise what I can do to you to make you yield. Once your wife has been tried for treason, what do you have left? I know you. Yana is your life. Once she is gone, what reason would you have to resist me? My agents will hunt your daughter down and neutralise her, and then, what will you do? Kill me? No, Franzis, I know you better than you think. You will start anew. You will find another vision to cling to. Why not follow mine?"

Blanching, Franzis shook his head. "You are going too far, Jilha," he retorted hoarsely, fear and despair choking his voice. "Deron will never allow it. Neither will the Council."

Jiliha gave him a contemptuous look and a pitying smile. "Your threats were better when you could back them up with real action, Your Highness," she said. "And I am quite certain that Naas Deron will lose most of his supporters when they realize that he is unable to stop me. As for the New Republic, they will rejoice once Yana Dar is out of the way. They hate her. And they will do nothing to stop me."

"How are you going to justify this move?" Franzis snarled and moved to rise, but the fact that Jiliha was accompanied by three guards, who all had their weapons trained on the former assassin, prevented him from following his urge to kill her there and then.

Jiliha laughed. "Civil unrest, of course! Please, your captivity must have affected your intellect. This is politics, it has nothing to do with justice or compassion, or any of that drivel."

"Of course not," he breathed, feeling his anger subside gradually and turn into a single flame of cold hatred. "And by putting Yana on trial – a mock-trial, to be sure – you can at least put up the illusion of following Imperial law. But perhaps you should consider that Emperor Ja'han'mandana and President Zickorey will not stand by, the way the New Republic does."

"The Chiss are bound by a treaty of allegiance and the Confederate Zone has no resources to speak of," Jiliha countered, unimpressed. "The only worthy adversary is the Council on Naboo, but Al'than'erudo will certainly have a lot of explaining to do once the New Republic officials realize that he has been keeping vital information from them." She smiled. "It's a trick you taught me, Your Highness, to use illusion and deception to divert a potential enemy's

attention elsewhere. It worked on you well enough, don't you think?"

"Yes," Franzis admitted quietly.

What else could he say? He had no idea what could be done to prevent Jiliha from executing her plan. And once Yana had been officially condemned to die, the new empress would be confirmed in her post and applauded for having averted a civil war within the Empire. Yana had kept too many of the proceedings within the Empire secret and too many of its laws were too obscure to be understood by outsiders to raise suspicions within especially the New Republic that things were going terribly wrong here. Their only hope were Luzaya, Mahel and Al'than'erudo. And Jiliha threatened to knock them out of the game too now. It was hopeless. On Byss their only ally was Naas Deron, but he had to move cautiously too. As Cor'dan he was bound to rules more rigid than any law.

"You have lost the war, Your Highness," Jiliha told him, satisfaction plain on her face and in her tone. "It is time for new leadership, a new era. And I certainly will push it through with more force than your dear wife ever used. You can see what she accomplished by that: internal strife, factions, disorder. A democracy," she added mockingly. "But this is an empire, and I mean to be empress."

"A tyrant, more likely," Franzis shot back, his anger flaring again. He had not even noticed that he had moved toward her, and he gave the guards latching on to him an owlish look, totally surprised. But Jiliha's eyes had narrowed, testimony to her fearing him still.

"What I will do with you I am not sure yet. But, should you refuse to yield to me, I believe I have been a good enough student to be able to accomplish my goals without your advice. So you will share your wife's fate. In fact, I believe you will precede her," Jiliha added thoughtfully. "No need to take chances. Bring him," she ordered the guards harshly and turned to leave.

Franzis felt like panicking. He had never expected to survive his wife, but in the state she was in she needed him more than ever. He could not leave her just now. Craning his neck he tried to look over the heads and shoulders of the guards pushing him toward the door, at the woman lying prone on the single bed.

"Yana," he whispered, feeling helpless.

"Time to say goodbye," Jiliha, standing at the top of the steps, said nastily, her beautiful features ugly with cruel glee. But then, very suddenly, her expression turned from triumphant to horrified. "Impossible!" she exclaimed, extending a trembling hand. "You can't!"

Trying to see, Franzis struggled against the guards, and when they refused to yield his anger took over. With a long-practised twist he managed to free his right arm and immediately delivered a crushing blow to the closest guard's windpipe. That one fell with a gurgling sound. These were not the Royal Guardsmen he had selected to be Yana's personal bodyguards, those had all been killed, he suspected. A point in his favor. Seizing a random arm, Franzis threw the attached soldier over his shoulder and sent him crashing into his companions. But he stopped short when he saw what Jiliha had noticed previously. Yana had stood up, her blue eyes clear and full of anger. The sole focus of her attention was Jiliha, though, and Franzis found his heart aching at that apparent rejection.

"Yana," he called out softly.

But she did not seem to see him. "You will not succeed," she declared, her voice hoarse with having been silent for too long, a sad fury audible in her words that raked across Franzis' heart brutally. "I will not have it. I will not let you have your triumph."

"Go back to where you came from, old woman, and leave this business to those who can stomach the consequences," Jiliha retorted coldly.

With breath-taking force everyone save Yana was shoved hard against the wall by the door, and Franzis was not the only one who was surprised by that attack. Choking, he tried to rise. She had never employed the Dark Side like that before. Never! "Yana!" Still there was no indication that she even noticed him. What was he to do? Desperate, Franzis looked around, saw the soldiers climb to their feet groggily, hefting their weapons.

Jiliha was mad with rage. "You interfering old hag!" she screeched. "You are too stupid to know when you are beaten!"

Franzis made his move, launching himself at the closest guard, trying to wrestle the blaster rifle out of the man's hands. As both men crashed to the ground, Franzis saw Yana raise her hands, fingers curled into claws, and charge, a feral snarl on her face. Blond curls flying behind her, she crossed the distance to the door in no time – and was thrown back violently when a single shot rang through the cell, and a single blaster bolt tore through her neck. He saw her expression change to astonishment in that timeless moment it took him to realize what was happening. Then reality rushed back in and he saw her fall against the bed-frame in a tangled heap. Shocked, he did not find the strength to move, and was unable to understand what Jiliha was screaming at the soldiers. One of them walked over to check the fallen empress for life-signs, then shook his head slowly. Mind gushing with ice, Franzis was filled with only one thought.

Yana was dead.

Someone grabbed his collar and started banging his head into the floor, but he barely noticed. His mind was numb with the revelation that he had failed to protect the Empress, failed to protect his wife, the mother of his child, his love. Eyes open wide, he felt something tear his heart into tiny, tiny shreds of anguish that spread all over his body and made his flesh prick with white-hot needles of deepest grief. He could not breathe any longer, as his awareness tightened into a protective ball, trying to shield him from his own crushing feelings. Then the guard who had been pummelling him let go of his collar and punched his fist hard into Franzis' stomach. The former Imperial agent inhaled with an agonized gasp, then rolled around to lie on his side, his glazed eyes fixed on Yana's limp body.

Head lolling to the side, a smoking hole burned through her throat, she was looking into the distance, not at him. The sight broke his heart all over again. Why had she ignored him? Had she not trusted his wit to get them out of this, as he had so many times before? Had he forfeited her love too, along with her trust, that she would not acknowledge him even as she had made her choice to die? Not for him, never for him, he knew. So long ago he had sworn to protect her, with his own life, if necessary. But he had always known that her duty superseded her love for him. And yet he wished very much for that acknowledgement, the assurance of her love, her trust in him, even in death. He did find neither in her slack features and blank gaze.

In that moment he felt utterly betrayed. He had felt that way before, once, when he had believed she had betrayed her ideals, his own, too, and had been proven so wrong after all. But now ... Now he would never know, would never hear her justify her decision. They would never again tease one another over one mistake or the other, never again discuss their plans deep into the night. He would never again admonish her for her foolish courage, her reckless bravery that had cost him so many sleepless nights and had got her killed now, after all. He scolded himself for not having tried harder to purge her heart of too much pride He was not like that. He was a survivor, not a fighter, if there were other ways than to make a stand. He stopped his thoughts then, overcome with bitterness. What husband was he, that he did not even find the strength to mourn his wife properly? But he had to think of the future now, the Empire's future, his daughter ...

Rolling around to lie on his back he gazed at the ceiling above, his eyes bereft of emotion. He did not even stir when two of the soldiers went forward to carry Yana's body from the tiny cell, out of his grasp. But inside his mind he imagined that he launched himself at the men, snarling with rage, a rage that filled his heart to bursting, that he kept himself controlled beneath a flimsy shield of cool reason, desperate to take back what was his, his beloved, his heart. But no. No fight - not now. No matter how much he lusted for blood, for vengeance. Franzis Sarreti did not even move when Jiliha n'Averone moved to his side, bent over his prone form, a frown marring her pretty face.

"A pity," she told him softly, but then a cruel little smile flashed across her features, and her eyes lit up with gleeful malice. "But perhaps we can turn this to our advantage still. You'll see."

His heart skipped a beat when he realized what she was hinting at, but then, he had been expecting this, hadn't he? His eyes never flickered when her face moved out of his line of sight again, but he heard one of the soldiers ask, "What about him?"

And Jiliha answered, "For now, let him grieve. We can always get rid of him later."

The door closed behind them, leaving him alone and without options. There was nothing he could do now but hope, and pray. What he did though, was weep, for his wife, for his love, and for himself.

Head jerking upright abruptly, Naas Deron barely noticed the frightened look on Cordell Tryway's pudgy face. The landlord was still busy stitching together the last few slashes that had nearly taken off the Cor'dan's left arm in a close escape from Jiliha's forces and was already feeling apologetic for that. Now, hands stilled in anticipation of a rebuke, he was staring a the taller human anxiously.

"Is something wrong?" he asked, voice timid.

For a moment Deron did not answer. He knew exactly what had happened. Yana Dar was dead, as expected. He had known that, once within her grasp, Jiliha would not let the empress live. So, from Cordell's point of view something was indeed terribly wrong. But from his own point of view... A slow smile spread across his features, not a nice smile, but one that forbore nothing good at all. "Bad move, my dear," he whispered. "Now play your game and seal your fate," he added, his eyes narrowing ever so slightly.

Confused, Cordell sat back on his haunches. "Cor'dan, what is going on?"

Looking directly at the landlord, Deron saw the man flinch back from his intense gaze. "Do you sometimes play holo-chess, Master Tryway?"

"S – sometimes," Cordell stuttered. "Why?"

"Well," the Cor'dan explained, "as you know the ultimate goal of the game is to capture the king, and the queen is essential in his defence, since she can move virtually anywhere and threaten anyone." Cordell gave a wary nod. "But sometimes, my friend, a peasant turns into a shining knight, and a fool into a king. And you never know where another queen might be lurking."

By the time Deron had finished his little speech Tryway had gone very pale. "The Empress!" he breathed. "She is – "

"Dead?" Cocking his brows, Deron gave him a questioning glance. "I fear so, yes."

He pushed himself out of the chair, face twisting as a twinge of pain shot through his shoulder, up from his injured arm. Ignoring Cordell's shock, he fell into the flow of the power he carried within himself, and found confirmation for his own plans there. One of his reasons for sending Luzaya away had been the princess' safety. The other had been her innocence, since he had known all too well that Yana would be forced to take harsher measures to keep the seemingly growing unrest under control. Had Luzaya witnessed this directly she would have tried to interfere, and ruined everything Deron had planned. As it was the empress' death would split the public cleanly, there was no in-between. And Jiliha and her New Republic cronies would triumph, undoubtedly. They would never ever see the hammer swinging at their backs.

But, as he had told Cordell just now, Jiliha's true aim in this game had been the king, the person she deemed most important to keeping the resistance against her usurpation alive: the Cor'dan. She would try to get at him more forcefully now, and he was certain of what methods she would use in an effort to subdue him. Oh, yes, he knew very well. Sometimes a fool could be a king, or a king a fool. And sometimes a squire became battle-leader. He only had to survive long enough to see to it that the squire in question did not fall prey to his lady's wrath.

TBC

PS:

Illidan, thank you very much for the feedback, I am very happy you enjoy this series so much.