Chapter 2: Shroud of the Dark Side
Sarlana was shaken, her mind spinning like a children's toy, as she hurried away from Anakin's mother, Princess Leia Organa Solo. Of course, she had seen pictures of the woman before, but they had all been from when she had played an active role in the New Republic's hierarchy or real-time footage taken during the Yuuzhan Vong war. Never before had she seen the likeness between Solo and Padami, but now there was no doubting that they must have been related.
Padami had been nearing the end of her life, her sad eyes lined with the age of time, and something more that the young Sarlana had never been able to identify. Those eyes had now been duplicated in the form of Leia Solo. Each had held their quiet grief, Solo's for her brother and Padami's for her two lost children.
iOh, how could I have been so blind?/i she cursed herself.
The truth was it hurt to know that Padami did not belong just to her, that the memory of the woman who was the closest thing to a mother she had ever known was now shattered by the Skywalkers, causing her hatred towards them to grow by several degrees. Padami was her memory, not some weak-minded Jedi's, who could not embrace the full potential of the Force.
Sarlana briefly wondered if her Master, Lord Nefarion, was aware that the mother of Leia and Luke Skywalker had raised his Sith Apprentice. She had always suspected that her Master had been the one to bring an end to the elderly woman's life; whether by his own hand or a hired assassin's, Sarlana had never learned. Anger filled her, fueling the banked flames of the Dark inside of her. She had kept them closely attuned, not wanting to tip off the Jedi around her, until the time came for the third part of Lord Nefarion's plan to come into action.
She yearned for that time to come sooner than her Sith Master had prescribed. She had grown weary of being around all the Jedi and wished to drop the facade that she had placed around herself. The events on Bellalt had made her weak, seeing the Jedi in action and the sacrifice that Master Skywalker had made for his son. Never before had she witnessed or known the beliefs of the Jedi, and she felt ill-prepared to deflect the atmosphere.
Then there was Anakin Solo, he was proving to be more a complication then either she or her Master had counted on. Nefarion had been forced to leave Ben Skywalker behind because he had not wished for an encounter with both Anakin and Ben. One he could handle without any qualms, but two, he would rather wait to have them separated. A lesson from Lord Sidious that neither Sith Master nor Apprentice had forgotten. "Divide your enemy and they become weaker, the Jedi lean too heavily upon one another."
Sarlana fought for the control and patience of her ability in the Dark Side. To get caught now, on the cusp of the next phase towards her Master's domination, would only end her life much sooner then Padami's. With an effort she squashed down her anger and hatred for the Skywalkers, and let it reside in a place unreachable to other Force-sensitives yet accessible to her.
The Sith apprentice had lied to Organa Solo when she had said that she had a tutorial, in fact she was on her way to make contact with her Master. Nefarion had been upset about the escape of Ben Skywalker, so close in reach and yet unattainable, consoling Sarlana that at least she was outside of her Master's fury inside of the Temple, which was not the case for Tranx, the strategist who had botched the Bellalt attack. Her Master had already reported twice that the aging man had been sent for mineral deficiency in his musculature, a tell-tale sign of Force-lightning.
Sarlana felt nothing for the man, although she had suffered her Master's punishment before and would again. Tranx should have continued the onslaught on the Jedi forces, even with the new arrival of the Chiss clawfighters, until Nefarion had given the signal for retreat. Instead, her Master had been forced to catch up with his own fleet after his failed attempt at taking Ben Skywalker on Bellalt. The Bellalt strike was supposed to incite the separatist Yuuzhan Vong to once again ally themselves with the devotees against the New Republic, once again bringing war to the settled galaxy. Sarlana did not know why her Master had left the elderly man alive, but she guessed it had to do with the fact that the Jedi had gotten lucky with the arrival of the Chiss fleet.
When Sarlana had mentioned her trepidation with continuing with their timetable, Lord Nefarion had assured her that everything would go as planned, that he had a contingency plot to thwart the Separatists and bring them under their power.
Coming outside of the Temple proper, Sarlana was once again struck by the changes in Coruscant. She had just been a child when the Yuuzhan Vong had invaded the galaxy in full force, but she remembered the patterned chaos that had once inhabited Coruscant so long ago. Nefarion had stowed them aboard a refugee cruiser right before the Yuuzhan Vong had terraformed the planet and had crushed the government seat of the republic. She had not returned until now.
Her ship was buried deep within a nearby forest of Fasha trees, their bioluminescent trunks veined in violet hues and leaves that were now turning the golden color of Coruscant's vernal equinox. The air outside was crisp and frigid in the early morning before Coruscant's primary came to its apex, and Sarlana's breath shimmered as she continued her purposeful stride.
It was about a standard hour before Sarlana reached her ship. Sith Eternal had been an upgrade from the infiltrator that Darth Sidious' first apprentice, Maul, had been fond of using, and Sarlana had just given it even more kick. Not only did it hold a hyperdrive fast enough to rival the famed Millennium Falcon, the weapon systems were top of the line with ion and laser canyons mounted inconspicuously. The body was an elongated cone with two TIE fighter type fins attached to its starboard and port sides. Thanks to the cloaking device that she herself had installed, it had been little trouble getting past Corsucant's Air-Space Security. Once she had arrived, her spy inside the Temple had lead her to the Council with the premise that he had discovered Analsa Vinn on a recent mission. It had all worked so perfectly; so why did she have a feeling that it had been a little too perfect and that at any moment it may come crashing down on her?
Entering the ramp code, she bounded up into the belly of her ship and headed for the cockpit. Sarlana melted into the pilot's chair and keyed her console communications system to Nefarion's frequency. There was hardly any wait before the shrouded being came into existence, tall and formidable, his features obscured by shadow created by the ever present cowl. Of course, Sarlana had seen behind the cowl before, had witnessed the face behind the shadow, but it did not happen often. Lord Nefarion did not like to be seen.
"Lady Sarlana," Nefarion greeted, his usually cool and even voice as icy as the rapid winds that were buffeting the Sith Eternal. "What of young Skywalker?"
"He is well, my Master, although distracted and distraught. I have learned much concerning the power the boy holds," Sarlana tantalized with this surprising tidbit.
Nefarion's voice did not change nor did a shadow flicker under the cowl. "And what have you learned, my apprentice?"
"The reason Master Skywalker gave his life on Bellalt," Sarlana answered quickly. Her Master had been curious by his victory over the Jedi Master, seeing how the older Force-user had been keeping up a good defense before he had thrown his saber needlessly at the warriors surrounding his son.
Still there was no change in Nefarion's demeanor, the shadow that represented his face staring at her in dark patience. Sarlana's pitiful attempt at baiting him would not even receive a response. She didn't know why she thought it would, the man was as cold and calculated as his voice, she would not break his frigid skin.
"If Ben Skywalker allows himself too deeply into the Force, he becomes almost entranced by it, giving himself to the energy so acutely that he can possibly join with it fully and irreversibly," Sarlana answered.
This did cause Nefarion to lean more fully towards the viewscreen. Any measure of power intrigued Nefarion to immense proportions, affording the user of that power a certain respect that the Sith Master defined only, and a careful eye. Nefarion had a brilliant mind, one that still astounded Sarlana; he was the first to see the detriments and benefits to any action they took and planned for every contingency. Which was one of the reasons it bothered her that he had not prepared her to join the Jedi better; it didn't surprise her that he would test her so ruthlessly.
"He is more powerful then I thought," Nefarion muttered, now totally ignoring his apprentice.
"But Master he cannot control it," Sarlana reminded him, insecurity rising from her unbidden. She had been with the Sith Lord for nearly twenty years, she deserved to be noticed.
Did Nefarion plan to kill her once he had Skywalker? Her presence would become more of a liability once his new apprentice had arrived.
"Be mindful of your thoughts, Sarlana, they betray you," Nefarion threatened. "Ben Skywalker will learn to control his power, I will see to that."
"Yes, my Master," Sarlana said, chastened by the Sith Lord's hurried reply. She should have already known that when it came to Skywalker Nefarion was resolute. Ben would join them, he would control his power, and Nefarion would rule the galaxy through him. "When will we put phase three into motion?"
"Soon," the Dark Lord answered, as he had every other time in the past few days when Sarlana had asked the question. She wondered if this was part of her test. "I will be traveling to Linnal today, so I may be more difficult to contact."
Sarlana nodded. No doubt the topic of conversation would be the failed attempt to bring the Separatists back to the idealism of the devotee Yuuzhan Vong. "And if I can't contact you, Master?" Sarlana asked, finding the notion strangely relieving and weighing at the same time.
Nefarion sneered. "Tranx will be available."
"You let him live, Master?"Sarlana said surprised.
"He has his uses, but don't worry, Sarlana, he paid. I'm sure you would have liked to have dealt the punishment yourself, seeing as you were never fond of his teaching techniques," Nefarion implied. "But it could not wait."
Sarlana gritted her teeth. No, Tranx had not been the best of teachers, in some ways he could rival Nefarion in his approach. There had been the time he had placed her at twelve years old inside a tank of Krakana where her only way out was to find the strategy in which the razor-sharp-toothed fish coordinated their attack. She had nearly lost her leg in the first attempt when one of the krakana had sunk its teeth into her flesh.
"At your discretion, Master," Sarlana answered evenly. She would not let him bait her just as he would not rise to hers. She was a Lady of the Sith, the natural enemy to the Jedi, and a director of the Dark Side. Her loyalty to Nefarion was finding new restraints all the time with the separation between them, and she was finding the new freedom incredible.
"Keep an eye on Skywalker," Nefarion interrupted her reverie. "I feel something shifting in the Force."
"As always, Master, I obey," Sarlana intoned by rote. She had been reciting those words from the moment she had been able to speak.
The shadowed face of Nefarion did not change, but Sarlana felt a chill as though his gaze was settled on her. "Make sure you do, iApprentice/i Sarlana." The Sith Lord made an arbitrary gesture with his gloved hand and the holographic projected image of him evaporated.
Sarlana sat inside her cockpit for a long moment. She knew she had better get back to the Temple before someone missed her and came searching in the right place at the wrong time, but she remained. Despite her new found freedom from her Lord and Master Nefarion, she still felt a twinge inside of her to please the Sith Lord, and it aggravated her that he was so bent on obtaining Ben Skywalker to their side. Hadn't she proved herself a worthy apprentice time and time again? Wasn't her power combined with her Master's enough to bring the Jedi under their control? Nefarion had thought so until Skywalker's birth nearly seventeen years ago; ever since, the Sith Lord had been obsessed with the youngest Skywalker.
Shaking her head at her own foolish thoughts, she fed the anger she felt towards her Master into the Dark Side before bringing it to the place inside of her where it could remain hidden. A tactic Lord Nefarion and Lady Sarlana had learned from the holocron of their mentor, Darth Sidious. The man had stood amidst the most powerful Jedi in the galaxy and had cloaked his presence without a suspicion raising a furrow on any of the Council members' foreheads.
Exiting her ship, she locked down the Sith Eternal and set her wrist band to alarm her if any sentient beings came near it. She was grateful for the Incom sensory device she had installed before coming to infiltrate the Temple. She felt the almost instant connection to the Yuuzhan Vong biotechnology, a skill she had obtained on Bellalt when they had set up Solo to chase after a group of Devotee Yuuzhan Vong.
Walking through the merged life forms of Vong and the indigenous life that encompassed every square meter of Coruscant, Sarlana tested her ability. She had yet to inform her Master about her newfound skill, and enjoyed the feeling of power it gave her. Secrets are power, my apprentice, Nefarion had told her long ago. What another doesn't know makes them weak. Now she was using his own teachings against him.
Coruscant's primary was beginning to crest over the stories-high Temple spire, and its rise sent warmth through the misty air. The Temple had been constructed on the premise of both the Massassi Temple on Yavin 4 and over the ruins of the Old Order on Coruscant. Sarlana could understand why her Master wanted to capture the area so badly, there was an annex of concentrated Force energy where the Temple now stood, as if residue from the beginning of all life. This incredible thought never entered the ghostly corners of the Sith Apprentice's mind; like her Master, she saw only the power it could give her and what she could do with that power. It wouldn't be long before Nefarion and she ruled the Temple, not in disguise but openly, with the Jedi trampled below their feet.
Sarlana felt a wicked smile spread across her beautiful features.
She was halfway to the Temple when she ran into Ben Skywalker with a procession of tiny children following behind him. She had heard that he had taken the bulk of his father's classes, having attended and taught most of them on the odd occasion, still she did not like the fact that he would be traipsing around the Fasha tree forest and could so easily stumble upon her ship.
He brought the clutch of children to a halt a few paces in front of her and nodded in greeting. It was done in the most polite and honest of ways, and yet Sarlana found she never trusted the son of Skywalker, he seemed to be watching her at all times waiting for her to slip up and reveal herself. She was pretty sure this was all in her mind, a slight paranoia being amongst the enemy.
"Nice morning, Analsa?" he asked, now offering her a welcoming smile.
It was only when he smiled that she noticed it hadn't been the full blown one she had been accustomed to before his father's death, this one paled like the moon next to the sun compared to that previous beaming. She couldn't help but feel a grudging respect for the boy, both of his parents were now gone to the Force and yet he still trudged along working for the goals his father had given his life for. The part of Sarlana's mind that was fully Sith found it incredibly stupid working for another person's pleasure, but there was a tiny voice, a voice not unlike that of Padami's, that honored him for his diligence.
"Nice, but chilly," Sarlana answered.
Ben nodded, raking his eyes over her thin jumpsuit that she had thrown on in her rush to meet her Master. She could tell what he was thinking; that the jumpsuit was hardly appropriate for the temperature and yet she did not shiver. However, he did not voice what was obviously lurking in his mind.
Instead, he turned to the children and cocked his cleft chin in their direction. "I'm taking my class to try and expand their ability to sense Yuuzhan Vong and their biotechnology." A ruddy brown eyebrow arched over his blue-green eyes. "Would you like to come along? Anakin told me that you have grasped the ability."
She was halfway tempted to accept, that way she could steer Ben away if he came to close to her ship, but another danger lurked if she did not attend her class that Anakin Solo was directing.
"I've got to head back, just needed a brisk jog through the forest," she turned him down.
"Perhaps some other time," he answered, his eyes never leaving her, searching her.
"Another time," she said, before jogging the final kilometers to the Temple. Perhaps it wasn't such a bad idea that her Master take Ben Skywalker, he could easily prove to be trouble if they were on opposing sides.
hr/hr
Nefarion's flagship had been looping around the gravity well of Linnal for the better part of four hours before he got the report from his apprentice. Sarlana seemed to be growing a mind of her own, something Nefarion had waited for and knew to watch. This was her greatest test of loyalty to him, to live amongst the Jedi and not be poisoned by their weakened ways but maintain her vigilance as his second.
Well second for not much longer, not when he would have Ben Skywalker in his hands. That day was approaching quickly. Nefarion had been enraged when he had boarded his flagship, so much so that Tranx, the Sith's strategist in this ploy, had instantly lost his left arm and was lucky that it had halted at that. Bellalt hadn't been leveled as Nefarion had ordered but at least the Separatist tower had crumbled under the battle damage from both the Jedi and Nefarion's warriors.
The one bright spot in the attack had been Skywalker's death, the whole botched attempt was vindicated by that one small act. Ben would fall easier if he did not have his shining white father standing by his side, and the son of Jade would come to his true potential. Sarlana had doubts; that Nefarion could have discerned even without her making it blindingly obvious, she doubted that Ben could ever come to his full potential, to control the raging torrent of his power.
Nefarion would insure that he did. There was no room for doubt in this coup to power; caution - yes. Before he began to train Ben Skywalker, he would first turn the boy to his side. Nefarion was no fool, he knew that turning the son of Skywalker would be difficult, nearly impossible, but he had no reservations in doing so. If the boy refused to turn, then he would be killed, as would all the other Jedi who would come to challenge Nefarion once he had moved forward with phase three.
Inside the belly of a coralcruiser, Nefarion attempted to raise Warmaster Shraq on his villip, manipulating the jelly-like substance with a black gloved hand. Unlike his mentor, Nefarion choose to hide himself in shadows, rarely letting any see behind the phantom he imagined himself to be. Even a swath of skin or a breakage of hair could reveal to the enemy more then Nefarion would care for them to know. Anonymity was the ultimate power, for you held all the knowledge.
Giving up on the villip after several attempts, the gelatinous blob snapping once again to the round curve, Nefarion suspected that Shraq was not pleased with the events on Bellalt. The Separatist tower was supposed to remain intact and not even attacked but Nefarion had changed the plans. He needed the Separatists upset, willing to throw away their treaty with the New Republic and once again take up war against the indigenous beings of the galaxy.
Nefarion would not hope that Bellalt would be enough. Already he had strike teams out to all Separatist-held worlds, ready to act whenever Nefarion gave the word. In the meantime, he had some alliances to mend. Warmaster Shraq had proven to be temperamental from the moment of their first meeting, threatening to back out with the most minor of setbacks. It was time for Nefarion to take the Devotees into his hands, leave them with no choice but to follow him. They already believed that he had the favor of their gods and that he could lead them to the victory over this galaxy that they still believed was theirs by endowment of their gods. The Sith Master sought to enlighten them further, to convince them that he was Yun Yuuzhan in the flesh, and that it was him that deserved to rule the galaxy. He had heard of a similar tactic used during the first Yuuzhan Vong war, with Jaina Solo pretending to be the Vong's trickster goddess. Nefarion was not about to convince them with clever manipulation, but with the power of the Dark Side.
His coralcruiser touched down into the nutrient cradle that Sarlana had linked it to in the first visit to the planet. Piloting the coralcruiser had actually made Nefarion wish that he hadn't been forced to send Sarlana to the Temple. He hated being so closely linked to the extragalactic biotechnology. He would endure it, however, to see his plan come to fruition, and there were the sensitivities of the devotee Yuuzhan Vong to think of.
Peeling the cognition hood back from his face and hair, he quickly placed the cowl over his slightly dampened hair. It was little trouble to tickle the entrance knob to pull the mouth of the coral-like ship into a large gaping yawn. Nefarion stepped through it, the strained mouth coming to a close almost immediately after. There were certain advantages to having a living ship, thought patterns were similar, a communication that was based on more feeling and image rather than a data exchange, as it were, with computers and droids.
Just outside of the nutrient cradle, two tatooed Yuuzhan Vong with scars, implants, and the customary broken nose marring already grotesque features waited for him. Their sloped foreheads remained even and unfurrowed but there was murder behind their eyes. They flanked him on either side, wiry muscles rippling.
It was a miniscule differential in those tight muscles that gave all the clues to Nefarion that he needed. Before they were even moving his lightsaber was out, the deep blood red hue of his lightsaber telling of the modifications he had made for it to go through any Yuuzhan Vong bioarmor that the extragalactic travelers may utilize. He flipped it in his hands with precision, gutting one Yuuzhan Vong before reversing the stroke and creating a burning hole in the chest of the other. They fell away from him together, the time between the individual fatal wounds so close that there hardly seemed any difference at all.
"No need to escort me, I know the way," he said passing the now lifeless Yuuzhan Vong.
The biodome thrummed with the pumping of its life source, just visible through the opaque skin of the living walls, a viscous glowing fluid that beat like the pounding of a heart. Soon all this would be his, very soon.
He walked down the sponge-like corridors, his boots sinking into the springy path as he went. More warriors funneled into the hallway, Nefarion did not change his determined gait, instead he enforced it. He did not have the ability to sense the Yuuzhan Vong as did Ben Skywalker and Anakin Solo, but he went on without fear - he was the Dark Lord of the Sith, Darth Nefarion, he would not shudder under the onslaught of any adversary.
With his gloved hands he spread his cloak from his hips, exposing the tiny thorn daggers he had stashed inside his utility belt. Grasping them with the Force, he sent them shooting out, each one thunking satisfyingly into the neck chinks of the Yuuzhan Vong warriors. Laced on each of the thorns was a poison specifically crafted to drop a Vong in a matter of seconds. It had taken Nefarion a long while to concoct the clear liquid, but it was all worth it when he saw the warriors topple over.
Stepping over the moaning Vong whose nerve endings were firing off electric flames, rendering them paralyzed for the time, Nefarion entered the Warmaster's chamber. The Yuuzhan Vong sat on the wavering mass that stood for a throne in the species' technology.
"Lord Nefarion, I'm surprised to see you," the Warmaster greeted, sounding as if he wanted to add the word 'breathing.'
Nefarion smirked behind his cowl. "I'm afraid that your warriors are incapacitated. There seemed to be some argument as to my visit to you, Warmaster Shraq."
"No mistake Lord Nefarion, I ordered my warriors to kill you. The attack on Bellalt was not only a failure but the team you borrowed to lead Solo away said that your warriors attacked the Separatist Tower. You swore that you would leave the Tower standing but it was the only thing that crumbled in the attack," Shraq fumed, all images of the wavering leader gone in the face of a very angry Yuuzhan Vong. "Can your bag of Jedi tricks explain that?"
Raising his arm, blue bolts of electric light stuttered out from the tips of his fingers, crackling in the air towards the perched Warmaster, stopping just short of the Vong warrior. "I would not underestimate the powers of the Jedi, and to underestimate me and the Sith is death, Warmaster."
Shraq lifted a clawed hand, and pushed at the thrumming but frozen Force- induced energy. As he neared, the energy seemed to wrap around him, pull back but not injure the Warmaster in any way. "You see, Lord Nefarion, your Force does not affect us. Your parlor tricks are pitiful."
Nefarion's features hardened under the facade of darkness. "The Force is all-powerful, Warmaster." He built and whirled the air around him, rubbing molecules together in a superheated way so that the surroundings became blistering, the living walls that drew in and out ever so slightly in the rhythm of breathing, were now dotted with beads of what Nefarion could only define as perspiration.
Winding his gloved hand in the air, he pushed those superheated molecules even further until they were a whirlwind born in the middle of the biodome. The tiny tornado picked up speed, drawing everything that was in the room towards it, everything but the Sith Lord who stood before it, a demon taunting the gods.
Shraq shuddered, clawing his way along his vols stool, his sharp talon fingers digging into the flesh of the stool and tearing through it as Nefarion's tornado pulled the Warmaster to it. Nefarion did not expect the Vong warrior to surrender; it was a privilege in the devotee beliefs to meet death in the midst of battle.
Nefarion dropped his arm, and instantly the tornado fizzled and the air cooled to its former temperature. With a quick glance, Nefarion took in what damage his little display had done to the Warmaster's chambers. Villips and amphistaffs littered the sponge floor, the villips hastily trying to find some form after the chaos of their ride, the amphistaffs slithering and hissing in rebuttal of their treatment.
"Not ineffective, Warmaster Shraq," Nefarion said as the warrior hurried to regain his seat on the vols stool. "Not only are the power of the gods with me but they are inside of me." Concentrating he gathered a cushion of air and lifted a villip off the ground, the Force acting as a tiny dovin basal or repulsorlift, floating the villip to his outstretched hand. It fell as he let go of the Force and it plopped into his hand rebounding over and over again. "The Force is all-powerful Warmaster, and I have bonded with the gods to bring you the grasp of the galaxy."
If Yuuzhan Vong physiology would have allowed, the Warmaster's eyes would have widened like a dogma receiving the full truth. Slowly he slid down the vols stool, coming to his knees where the implants dug deeper into the flesh, and bowed before the Sith Lord. "You have the devotion of the true Yuuzhan Vong, Lord Nefarion," Shraq spoke his oath, a clenched fist coming to pound on his breastplate.
Nefarion did not allow the smile that he felt building, nor did he drop the repulsive villip bouncing in his hand. Instead, he cocked his head toward the Warmaster. "Then let us begin to bring in our lost brethren."
Sarlana was shaken, her mind spinning like a children's toy, as she hurried away from Anakin's mother, Princess Leia Organa Solo. Of course, she had seen pictures of the woman before, but they had all been from when she had played an active role in the New Republic's hierarchy or real-time footage taken during the Yuuzhan Vong war. Never before had she seen the likeness between Solo and Padami, but now there was no doubting that they must have been related.
Padami had been nearing the end of her life, her sad eyes lined with the age of time, and something more that the young Sarlana had never been able to identify. Those eyes had now been duplicated in the form of Leia Solo. Each had held their quiet grief, Solo's for her brother and Padami's for her two lost children.
iOh, how could I have been so blind?/i she cursed herself.
The truth was it hurt to know that Padami did not belong just to her, that the memory of the woman who was the closest thing to a mother she had ever known was now shattered by the Skywalkers, causing her hatred towards them to grow by several degrees. Padami was her memory, not some weak-minded Jedi's, who could not embrace the full potential of the Force.
Sarlana briefly wondered if her Master, Lord Nefarion, was aware that the mother of Leia and Luke Skywalker had raised his Sith Apprentice. She had always suspected that her Master had been the one to bring an end to the elderly woman's life; whether by his own hand or a hired assassin's, Sarlana had never learned. Anger filled her, fueling the banked flames of the Dark inside of her. She had kept them closely attuned, not wanting to tip off the Jedi around her, until the time came for the third part of Lord Nefarion's plan to come into action.
She yearned for that time to come sooner than her Sith Master had prescribed. She had grown weary of being around all the Jedi and wished to drop the facade that she had placed around herself. The events on Bellalt had made her weak, seeing the Jedi in action and the sacrifice that Master Skywalker had made for his son. Never before had she witnessed or known the beliefs of the Jedi, and she felt ill-prepared to deflect the atmosphere.
Then there was Anakin Solo, he was proving to be more a complication then either she or her Master had counted on. Nefarion had been forced to leave Ben Skywalker behind because he had not wished for an encounter with both Anakin and Ben. One he could handle without any qualms, but two, he would rather wait to have them separated. A lesson from Lord Sidious that neither Sith Master nor Apprentice had forgotten. "Divide your enemy and they become weaker, the Jedi lean too heavily upon one another."
Sarlana fought for the control and patience of her ability in the Dark Side. To get caught now, on the cusp of the next phase towards her Master's domination, would only end her life much sooner then Padami's. With an effort she squashed down her anger and hatred for the Skywalkers, and let it reside in a place unreachable to other Force-sensitives yet accessible to her.
The Sith apprentice had lied to Organa Solo when she had said that she had a tutorial, in fact she was on her way to make contact with her Master. Nefarion had been upset about the escape of Ben Skywalker, so close in reach and yet unattainable, consoling Sarlana that at least she was outside of her Master's fury inside of the Temple, which was not the case for Tranx, the strategist who had botched the Bellalt attack. Her Master had already reported twice that the aging man had been sent for mineral deficiency in his musculature, a tell-tale sign of Force-lightning.
Sarlana felt nothing for the man, although she had suffered her Master's punishment before and would again. Tranx should have continued the onslaught on the Jedi forces, even with the new arrival of the Chiss clawfighters, until Nefarion had given the signal for retreat. Instead, her Master had been forced to catch up with his own fleet after his failed attempt at taking Ben Skywalker on Bellalt. The Bellalt strike was supposed to incite the separatist Yuuzhan Vong to once again ally themselves with the devotees against the New Republic, once again bringing war to the settled galaxy. Sarlana did not know why her Master had left the elderly man alive, but she guessed it had to do with the fact that the Jedi had gotten lucky with the arrival of the Chiss fleet.
When Sarlana had mentioned her trepidation with continuing with their timetable, Lord Nefarion had assured her that everything would go as planned, that he had a contingency plot to thwart the Separatists and bring them under their power.
Coming outside of the Temple proper, Sarlana was once again struck by the changes in Coruscant. She had just been a child when the Yuuzhan Vong had invaded the galaxy in full force, but she remembered the patterned chaos that had once inhabited Coruscant so long ago. Nefarion had stowed them aboard a refugee cruiser right before the Yuuzhan Vong had terraformed the planet and had crushed the government seat of the republic. She had not returned until now.
Her ship was buried deep within a nearby forest of Fasha trees, their bioluminescent trunks veined in violet hues and leaves that were now turning the golden color of Coruscant's vernal equinox. The air outside was crisp and frigid in the early morning before Coruscant's primary came to its apex, and Sarlana's breath shimmered as she continued her purposeful stride.
It was about a standard hour before Sarlana reached her ship. Sith Eternal had been an upgrade from the infiltrator that Darth Sidious' first apprentice, Maul, had been fond of using, and Sarlana had just given it even more kick. Not only did it hold a hyperdrive fast enough to rival the famed Millennium Falcon, the weapon systems were top of the line with ion and laser canyons mounted inconspicuously. The body was an elongated cone with two TIE fighter type fins attached to its starboard and port sides. Thanks to the cloaking device that she herself had installed, it had been little trouble getting past Corsucant's Air-Space Security. Once she had arrived, her spy inside the Temple had lead her to the Council with the premise that he had discovered Analsa Vinn on a recent mission. It had all worked so perfectly; so why did she have a feeling that it had been a little too perfect and that at any moment it may come crashing down on her?
Entering the ramp code, she bounded up into the belly of her ship and headed for the cockpit. Sarlana melted into the pilot's chair and keyed her console communications system to Nefarion's frequency. There was hardly any wait before the shrouded being came into existence, tall and formidable, his features obscured by shadow created by the ever present cowl. Of course, Sarlana had seen behind the cowl before, had witnessed the face behind the shadow, but it did not happen often. Lord Nefarion did not like to be seen.
"Lady Sarlana," Nefarion greeted, his usually cool and even voice as icy as the rapid winds that were buffeting the Sith Eternal. "What of young Skywalker?"
"He is well, my Master, although distracted and distraught. I have learned much concerning the power the boy holds," Sarlana tantalized with this surprising tidbit.
Nefarion's voice did not change nor did a shadow flicker under the cowl. "And what have you learned, my apprentice?"
"The reason Master Skywalker gave his life on Bellalt," Sarlana answered quickly. Her Master had been curious by his victory over the Jedi Master, seeing how the older Force-user had been keeping up a good defense before he had thrown his saber needlessly at the warriors surrounding his son.
Still there was no change in Nefarion's demeanor, the shadow that represented his face staring at her in dark patience. Sarlana's pitiful attempt at baiting him would not even receive a response. She didn't know why she thought it would, the man was as cold and calculated as his voice, she would not break his frigid skin.
"If Ben Skywalker allows himself too deeply into the Force, he becomes almost entranced by it, giving himself to the energy so acutely that he can possibly join with it fully and irreversibly," Sarlana answered.
This did cause Nefarion to lean more fully towards the viewscreen. Any measure of power intrigued Nefarion to immense proportions, affording the user of that power a certain respect that the Sith Master defined only, and a careful eye. Nefarion had a brilliant mind, one that still astounded Sarlana; he was the first to see the detriments and benefits to any action they took and planned for every contingency. Which was one of the reasons it bothered her that he had not prepared her to join the Jedi better; it didn't surprise her that he would test her so ruthlessly.
"He is more powerful then I thought," Nefarion muttered, now totally ignoring his apprentice.
"But Master he cannot control it," Sarlana reminded him, insecurity rising from her unbidden. She had been with the Sith Lord for nearly twenty years, she deserved to be noticed.
Did Nefarion plan to kill her once he had Skywalker? Her presence would become more of a liability once his new apprentice had arrived.
"Be mindful of your thoughts, Sarlana, they betray you," Nefarion threatened. "Ben Skywalker will learn to control his power, I will see to that."
"Yes, my Master," Sarlana said, chastened by the Sith Lord's hurried reply. She should have already known that when it came to Skywalker Nefarion was resolute. Ben would join them, he would control his power, and Nefarion would rule the galaxy through him. "When will we put phase three into motion?"
"Soon," the Dark Lord answered, as he had every other time in the past few days when Sarlana had asked the question. She wondered if this was part of her test. "I will be traveling to Linnal today, so I may be more difficult to contact."
Sarlana nodded. No doubt the topic of conversation would be the failed attempt to bring the Separatists back to the idealism of the devotee Yuuzhan Vong. "And if I can't contact you, Master?" Sarlana asked, finding the notion strangely relieving and weighing at the same time.
Nefarion sneered. "Tranx will be available."
"You let him live, Master?"Sarlana said surprised.
"He has his uses, but don't worry, Sarlana, he paid. I'm sure you would have liked to have dealt the punishment yourself, seeing as you were never fond of his teaching techniques," Nefarion implied. "But it could not wait."
Sarlana gritted her teeth. No, Tranx had not been the best of teachers, in some ways he could rival Nefarion in his approach. There had been the time he had placed her at twelve years old inside a tank of Krakana where her only way out was to find the strategy in which the razor-sharp-toothed fish coordinated their attack. She had nearly lost her leg in the first attempt when one of the krakana had sunk its teeth into her flesh.
"At your discretion, Master," Sarlana answered evenly. She would not let him bait her just as he would not rise to hers. She was a Lady of the Sith, the natural enemy to the Jedi, and a director of the Dark Side. Her loyalty to Nefarion was finding new restraints all the time with the separation between them, and she was finding the new freedom incredible.
"Keep an eye on Skywalker," Nefarion interrupted her reverie. "I feel something shifting in the Force."
"As always, Master, I obey," Sarlana intoned by rote. She had been reciting those words from the moment she had been able to speak.
The shadowed face of Nefarion did not change, but Sarlana felt a chill as though his gaze was settled on her. "Make sure you do, iApprentice/i Sarlana." The Sith Lord made an arbitrary gesture with his gloved hand and the holographic projected image of him evaporated.
Sarlana sat inside her cockpit for a long moment. She knew she had better get back to the Temple before someone missed her and came searching in the right place at the wrong time, but she remained. Despite her new found freedom from her Lord and Master Nefarion, she still felt a twinge inside of her to please the Sith Lord, and it aggravated her that he was so bent on obtaining Ben Skywalker to their side. Hadn't she proved herself a worthy apprentice time and time again? Wasn't her power combined with her Master's enough to bring the Jedi under their control? Nefarion had thought so until Skywalker's birth nearly seventeen years ago; ever since, the Sith Lord had been obsessed with the youngest Skywalker.
Shaking her head at her own foolish thoughts, she fed the anger she felt towards her Master into the Dark Side before bringing it to the place inside of her where it could remain hidden. A tactic Lord Nefarion and Lady Sarlana had learned from the holocron of their mentor, Darth Sidious. The man had stood amidst the most powerful Jedi in the galaxy and had cloaked his presence without a suspicion raising a furrow on any of the Council members' foreheads.
Exiting her ship, she locked down the Sith Eternal and set her wrist band to alarm her if any sentient beings came near it. She was grateful for the Incom sensory device she had installed before coming to infiltrate the Temple. She felt the almost instant connection to the Yuuzhan Vong biotechnology, a skill she had obtained on Bellalt when they had set up Solo to chase after a group of Devotee Yuuzhan Vong.
Walking through the merged life forms of Vong and the indigenous life that encompassed every square meter of Coruscant, Sarlana tested her ability. She had yet to inform her Master about her newfound skill, and enjoyed the feeling of power it gave her. Secrets are power, my apprentice, Nefarion had told her long ago. What another doesn't know makes them weak. Now she was using his own teachings against him.
Coruscant's primary was beginning to crest over the stories-high Temple spire, and its rise sent warmth through the misty air. The Temple had been constructed on the premise of both the Massassi Temple on Yavin 4 and over the ruins of the Old Order on Coruscant. Sarlana could understand why her Master wanted to capture the area so badly, there was an annex of concentrated Force energy where the Temple now stood, as if residue from the beginning of all life. This incredible thought never entered the ghostly corners of the Sith Apprentice's mind; like her Master, she saw only the power it could give her and what she could do with that power. It wouldn't be long before Nefarion and she ruled the Temple, not in disguise but openly, with the Jedi trampled below their feet.
Sarlana felt a wicked smile spread across her beautiful features.
She was halfway to the Temple when she ran into Ben Skywalker with a procession of tiny children following behind him. She had heard that he had taken the bulk of his father's classes, having attended and taught most of them on the odd occasion, still she did not like the fact that he would be traipsing around the Fasha tree forest and could so easily stumble upon her ship.
He brought the clutch of children to a halt a few paces in front of her and nodded in greeting. It was done in the most polite and honest of ways, and yet Sarlana found she never trusted the son of Skywalker, he seemed to be watching her at all times waiting for her to slip up and reveal herself. She was pretty sure this was all in her mind, a slight paranoia being amongst the enemy.
"Nice morning, Analsa?" he asked, now offering her a welcoming smile.
It was only when he smiled that she noticed it hadn't been the full blown one she had been accustomed to before his father's death, this one paled like the moon next to the sun compared to that previous beaming. She couldn't help but feel a grudging respect for the boy, both of his parents were now gone to the Force and yet he still trudged along working for the goals his father had given his life for. The part of Sarlana's mind that was fully Sith found it incredibly stupid working for another person's pleasure, but there was a tiny voice, a voice not unlike that of Padami's, that honored him for his diligence.
"Nice, but chilly," Sarlana answered.
Ben nodded, raking his eyes over her thin jumpsuit that she had thrown on in her rush to meet her Master. She could tell what he was thinking; that the jumpsuit was hardly appropriate for the temperature and yet she did not shiver. However, he did not voice what was obviously lurking in his mind.
Instead, he turned to the children and cocked his cleft chin in their direction. "I'm taking my class to try and expand their ability to sense Yuuzhan Vong and their biotechnology." A ruddy brown eyebrow arched over his blue-green eyes. "Would you like to come along? Anakin told me that you have grasped the ability."
She was halfway tempted to accept, that way she could steer Ben away if he came to close to her ship, but another danger lurked if she did not attend her class that Anakin Solo was directing.
"I've got to head back, just needed a brisk jog through the forest," she turned him down.
"Perhaps some other time," he answered, his eyes never leaving her, searching her.
"Another time," she said, before jogging the final kilometers to the Temple. Perhaps it wasn't such a bad idea that her Master take Ben Skywalker, he could easily prove to be trouble if they were on opposing sides.
hr/hr
Nefarion's flagship had been looping around the gravity well of Linnal for the better part of four hours before he got the report from his apprentice. Sarlana seemed to be growing a mind of her own, something Nefarion had waited for and knew to watch. This was her greatest test of loyalty to him, to live amongst the Jedi and not be poisoned by their weakened ways but maintain her vigilance as his second.
Well second for not much longer, not when he would have Ben Skywalker in his hands. That day was approaching quickly. Nefarion had been enraged when he had boarded his flagship, so much so that Tranx, the Sith's strategist in this ploy, had instantly lost his left arm and was lucky that it had halted at that. Bellalt hadn't been leveled as Nefarion had ordered but at least the Separatist tower had crumbled under the battle damage from both the Jedi and Nefarion's warriors.
The one bright spot in the attack had been Skywalker's death, the whole botched attempt was vindicated by that one small act. Ben would fall easier if he did not have his shining white father standing by his side, and the son of Jade would come to his true potential. Sarlana had doubts; that Nefarion could have discerned even without her making it blindingly obvious, she doubted that Ben could ever come to his full potential, to control the raging torrent of his power.
Nefarion would insure that he did. There was no room for doubt in this coup to power; caution - yes. Before he began to train Ben Skywalker, he would first turn the boy to his side. Nefarion was no fool, he knew that turning the son of Skywalker would be difficult, nearly impossible, but he had no reservations in doing so. If the boy refused to turn, then he would be killed, as would all the other Jedi who would come to challenge Nefarion once he had moved forward with phase three.
Inside the belly of a coralcruiser, Nefarion attempted to raise Warmaster Shraq on his villip, manipulating the jelly-like substance with a black gloved hand. Unlike his mentor, Nefarion choose to hide himself in shadows, rarely letting any see behind the phantom he imagined himself to be. Even a swath of skin or a breakage of hair could reveal to the enemy more then Nefarion would care for them to know. Anonymity was the ultimate power, for you held all the knowledge.
Giving up on the villip after several attempts, the gelatinous blob snapping once again to the round curve, Nefarion suspected that Shraq was not pleased with the events on Bellalt. The Separatist tower was supposed to remain intact and not even attacked but Nefarion had changed the plans. He needed the Separatists upset, willing to throw away their treaty with the New Republic and once again take up war against the indigenous beings of the galaxy.
Nefarion would not hope that Bellalt would be enough. Already he had strike teams out to all Separatist-held worlds, ready to act whenever Nefarion gave the word. In the meantime, he had some alliances to mend. Warmaster Shraq had proven to be temperamental from the moment of their first meeting, threatening to back out with the most minor of setbacks. It was time for Nefarion to take the Devotees into his hands, leave them with no choice but to follow him. They already believed that he had the favor of their gods and that he could lead them to the victory over this galaxy that they still believed was theirs by endowment of their gods. The Sith Master sought to enlighten them further, to convince them that he was Yun Yuuzhan in the flesh, and that it was him that deserved to rule the galaxy. He had heard of a similar tactic used during the first Yuuzhan Vong war, with Jaina Solo pretending to be the Vong's trickster goddess. Nefarion was not about to convince them with clever manipulation, but with the power of the Dark Side.
His coralcruiser touched down into the nutrient cradle that Sarlana had linked it to in the first visit to the planet. Piloting the coralcruiser had actually made Nefarion wish that he hadn't been forced to send Sarlana to the Temple. He hated being so closely linked to the extragalactic biotechnology. He would endure it, however, to see his plan come to fruition, and there were the sensitivities of the devotee Yuuzhan Vong to think of.
Peeling the cognition hood back from his face and hair, he quickly placed the cowl over his slightly dampened hair. It was little trouble to tickle the entrance knob to pull the mouth of the coral-like ship into a large gaping yawn. Nefarion stepped through it, the strained mouth coming to a close almost immediately after. There were certain advantages to having a living ship, thought patterns were similar, a communication that was based on more feeling and image rather than a data exchange, as it were, with computers and droids.
Just outside of the nutrient cradle, two tatooed Yuuzhan Vong with scars, implants, and the customary broken nose marring already grotesque features waited for him. Their sloped foreheads remained even and unfurrowed but there was murder behind their eyes. They flanked him on either side, wiry muscles rippling.
It was a miniscule differential in those tight muscles that gave all the clues to Nefarion that he needed. Before they were even moving his lightsaber was out, the deep blood red hue of his lightsaber telling of the modifications he had made for it to go through any Yuuzhan Vong bioarmor that the extragalactic travelers may utilize. He flipped it in his hands with precision, gutting one Yuuzhan Vong before reversing the stroke and creating a burning hole in the chest of the other. They fell away from him together, the time between the individual fatal wounds so close that there hardly seemed any difference at all.
"No need to escort me, I know the way," he said passing the now lifeless Yuuzhan Vong.
The biodome thrummed with the pumping of its life source, just visible through the opaque skin of the living walls, a viscous glowing fluid that beat like the pounding of a heart. Soon all this would be his, very soon.
He walked down the sponge-like corridors, his boots sinking into the springy path as he went. More warriors funneled into the hallway, Nefarion did not change his determined gait, instead he enforced it. He did not have the ability to sense the Yuuzhan Vong as did Ben Skywalker and Anakin Solo, but he went on without fear - he was the Dark Lord of the Sith, Darth Nefarion, he would not shudder under the onslaught of any adversary.
With his gloved hands he spread his cloak from his hips, exposing the tiny thorn daggers he had stashed inside his utility belt. Grasping them with the Force, he sent them shooting out, each one thunking satisfyingly into the neck chinks of the Yuuzhan Vong warriors. Laced on each of the thorns was a poison specifically crafted to drop a Vong in a matter of seconds. It had taken Nefarion a long while to concoct the clear liquid, but it was all worth it when he saw the warriors topple over.
Stepping over the moaning Vong whose nerve endings were firing off electric flames, rendering them paralyzed for the time, Nefarion entered the Warmaster's chamber. The Yuuzhan Vong sat on the wavering mass that stood for a throne in the species' technology.
"Lord Nefarion, I'm surprised to see you," the Warmaster greeted, sounding as if he wanted to add the word 'breathing.'
Nefarion smirked behind his cowl. "I'm afraid that your warriors are incapacitated. There seemed to be some argument as to my visit to you, Warmaster Shraq."
"No mistake Lord Nefarion, I ordered my warriors to kill you. The attack on Bellalt was not only a failure but the team you borrowed to lead Solo away said that your warriors attacked the Separatist Tower. You swore that you would leave the Tower standing but it was the only thing that crumbled in the attack," Shraq fumed, all images of the wavering leader gone in the face of a very angry Yuuzhan Vong. "Can your bag of Jedi tricks explain that?"
Raising his arm, blue bolts of electric light stuttered out from the tips of his fingers, crackling in the air towards the perched Warmaster, stopping just short of the Vong warrior. "I would not underestimate the powers of the Jedi, and to underestimate me and the Sith is death, Warmaster."
Shraq lifted a clawed hand, and pushed at the thrumming but frozen Force- induced energy. As he neared, the energy seemed to wrap around him, pull back but not injure the Warmaster in any way. "You see, Lord Nefarion, your Force does not affect us. Your parlor tricks are pitiful."
Nefarion's features hardened under the facade of darkness. "The Force is all-powerful, Warmaster." He built and whirled the air around him, rubbing molecules together in a superheated way so that the surroundings became blistering, the living walls that drew in and out ever so slightly in the rhythm of breathing, were now dotted with beads of what Nefarion could only define as perspiration.
Winding his gloved hand in the air, he pushed those superheated molecules even further until they were a whirlwind born in the middle of the biodome. The tiny tornado picked up speed, drawing everything that was in the room towards it, everything but the Sith Lord who stood before it, a demon taunting the gods.
Shraq shuddered, clawing his way along his vols stool, his sharp talon fingers digging into the flesh of the stool and tearing through it as Nefarion's tornado pulled the Warmaster to it. Nefarion did not expect the Vong warrior to surrender; it was a privilege in the devotee beliefs to meet death in the midst of battle.
Nefarion dropped his arm, and instantly the tornado fizzled and the air cooled to its former temperature. With a quick glance, Nefarion took in what damage his little display had done to the Warmaster's chambers. Villips and amphistaffs littered the sponge floor, the villips hastily trying to find some form after the chaos of their ride, the amphistaffs slithering and hissing in rebuttal of their treatment.
"Not ineffective, Warmaster Shraq," Nefarion said as the warrior hurried to regain his seat on the vols stool. "Not only are the power of the gods with me but they are inside of me." Concentrating he gathered a cushion of air and lifted a villip off the ground, the Force acting as a tiny dovin basal or repulsorlift, floating the villip to his outstretched hand. It fell as he let go of the Force and it plopped into his hand rebounding over and over again. "The Force is all-powerful Warmaster, and I have bonded with the gods to bring you the grasp of the galaxy."
If Yuuzhan Vong physiology would have allowed, the Warmaster's eyes would have widened like a dogma receiving the full truth. Slowly he slid down the vols stool, coming to his knees where the implants dug deeper into the flesh, and bowed before the Sith Lord. "You have the devotion of the true Yuuzhan Vong, Lord Nefarion," Shraq spoke his oath, a clenched fist coming to pound on his breastplate.
Nefarion did not allow the smile that he felt building, nor did he drop the repulsive villip bouncing in his hand. Instead, he cocked his head toward the Warmaster. "Then let us begin to bring in our lost brethren."