As the view of hyperspace sailed past the New Purpose's cockpit viewport, Darth Judicar was suddenly overcome by a sudden sense of loss through the Force. She doubled over in physical pain in the pilot seat as she felt her mentor of the past year, Lumiya, vanish from this plane of existence, even though she hadn't even realized that she could feel her presence again at this point.

When the shock of the event passed, Judicar sat upright again, though her sight was now lowered to the deck at her feet. It was one thing to feel alone when Lumiya had been cut off from her; but to feel her death right then only seemed to further cement Judicar's recent sense of isolation from everything and everyone she had cared for.

Logically, nothing should have changed in Judicar's quest to use the lightsaber of Jaina Solo's dead brother, Anakin, to reactivate Centerpoint Station and use it against the Jedi. Yet now, in what she realized was a bout of grief for her fallen teacher, she felt... disheartened.

Assuming that Anakin's spirit was wrong about his lightsaber not being able to reactivate Centerpoint, could she really go through with using it now? What would even be the point? Her Master was gone, off to the Netherworld of the Force, and unable to fully appreciate her student's deeds in this life. In essence, Judicar was all but free to do what she wanted; she didn't have to live out Lumiya's wishes to make her own purpose.

But then, after closing her eyes in further thought, Judicar opened them back up and narrowed them in renewed determination for what she had to do.

Lumiya's death had changed nothing, she realized. Judicar still couldn't just go back to her life as Jaina Solo; not without having to face severe consequences for her actions. Murdering Master Sebatyne and maiming Corran Horn on Hlest. Killing the World Brain and all those scientists and Shapers on Coruscant. Her mass murder of the vast majority of the crew and passengers aboard the Errant Venture... including, and especially, Mara. Not to mention her involvement in whatever Lumiya had done to Ben just by bringing him to her.

She was going to carry out her mission as if Lumiya was still alive. The Jedi would die, and from there... from there...

From there, she would find some way of ruling the galaxy. And if those secret Sith that Admiral Iosha and that cargo hauler Plekos got in her way, she would find a way to get rid of them.

Yes.

And so, as if that renewed determination solidified her decision-making, the hyperdrive indicator beeped for her attention, notifying her that she was just about ready to drop out of hyperspace for her destination: the Corellian system.

She dropped the Purpose out of the limbo of hyperspace, and began flying her ship toward Centerpoint.

. . .

In her office aboard the Elash, Admiral Iosha looked puzzled as she looked through the staggering number of reports coming out of various systems about massive Galactic Alliance fleet movements; those that were contested between the GA and the Chiss were left for the latter to claim, and even several systems that the former had firmly under their control were now left with skeleton fleets for defenses.

As Iosha puzzled over this, her holocomm beeped for her attention. She activated it and the holographic representation of Admiral Ulaska's head stared back at her.

"You have seen the reports about the GA's fleet movements, Admiral?" the male Chiss asked.

Iosha nodded. "It seems too good to be true; especially with the losses that we had recently accumulated."

"Did you get to the part in the reports that say the GA are making their move for the Corellian system?"

Iosha's eyes widened in shock. "No, I had not. Why would they be doing this?"

Ulaska hesitated. "Are you sure this line is encrypted, Admiral Iosha?"

"I am sure, but allow me to double-check." She looked away and checked a small monitor beneath the holocomm; then she looked back and said, "The encryption is working expertly, Admiral Ulaska."

"Good. Then allow me to introduce the One Sith agent who is handling the matters overlooking Centerpoint Station: Shev Krath."

Then a holographic representation of a Twi'lek male's head appeared next to Ulaska's.

"Admiral Iosha, Admiral Ulaska," Shev Krath said. After he relayed the information of Thrackan Sal-Solo's failed attempt to negotiate with the One Sith, Darth Acheron's governmental pardon for killing Jedi Master Corran Horn, and the death of the only other One Sith operative by Horn's hand before he died, Krath said, "Since these developments, I have been unable to get into contact with Lord Acheron. And given that she was the only surviving agent we had there, we have no other way of tracking the development of Centerpoint's ability to function as a weapon."

"Even so," Iosha said, "it would still take the better part of a year for the station to become active again. Surely, that has not changed?"

"And yet the Galactic Alliance is making a massive fleetwide movement for the Corellian system," Ulaska said.

"It could be a trap to lure us out," Iosha suggested evenly. "We do know that one of our Chiss Sith had been captured by Jedi led by Kyp Durron; that agent could have very well told the Jedi, and, by extension, the GA, about our nature as Sith, Admiral Ulaska."

"Perhaps it is a trap," Ulaska replied. "But we cannot discount the possibility, however remote, that the Centerpoint Party has found a way to get their namesake station active much earlier than projected. And now that the One Sith have no solid way to make sure that that timetable is still there, it would be foolish of us, at this point, not to assume the worst. After all, as you have pointed out, Admiral, before Agent Krath joined us, the GA wouldn't be making such abandons to these territories given their recent victories against the Expansionary Force."

"So if we are to assume that this isn't a trap to lure you and me out," Iosha said, "that could mean that the GA could have sent a spy into Centerpoint and acquired information that the One Sith have been unable to attain."

"That is the only other plausible alternative," Ulaska said grimly.

Iosha directed her gaze upon Krath. "I assume you have sent in another agent to deal with Sal-Solo?"

"I had," the Twi'lek responded, "but I had reassigned him from an assassination job to information acquirement. If he cannot find a way to learn from Lord Acheron about Centerpoint's viability as a weapon at this point in time, he is to find some other way. When last he reported to me, he made a stop on a nearby planet to acquire, from the black market, the best computer slicer tech his money could buy and smuggle to Centerpoint. So we can only hope that he can carry out his new mission from this last minute change. I suggest then, Admirals, that you continue to stay where you are until after my infiltrator can confirm whether or not the GA's fleet movements are part of a trap or if their efforts are all about neutralizing Centerpoint as a potential threat."

"How long will this take?" Ulaska asked.

"It should take less than a week," Krath stated. "If we do not hear from this agent by then, or if we learn that he has been captured or killed, then feel free to proceed as if the GA are acting just for Centerpoint."

Iosha and Ulaska looked at each other. A moment later, they returned their attention to Krath and said simultaneously, "We will wait."

"And in the meantime," Iosha added, "we will cease active hostilities with the GA; if their fleet withdrawals really are to stop Centerpoint, we will need all the troops and materiel we can bring if we are to counter them from destroying that station."

"And if that agent does fail," Ulaska said, "we will have to use the Chiss' resources to take over that station openly. By that point, we cannot wait to have a potential successor to Sal-Solo fill his role as head of that station."

"Agreed," Iosha stated grimly. "We cannot let either Sal-Solo or the GA take control of that station; if they were to use it on Csilla or any other Chiss-held piece of territory, it could prove more than a symbolic catastrophe to the Ascendancy. And that can prove significant to the progression of Lord Krayt's plans."

. . .

The night cycle for Centerpoint had approached, which meant that everyone who wasn't working "the graveyard shift" for whatever jobs they had or had night lives went to bed. Among those who did were Head of State Thrackan Sal-Solo and the vast majority of his cronies who were on the station.

Even so, Jacen, who wore his disguise as Candak Hecluse to bed, practically slept with one eye open. And that was made all the more difficult for him given that he was almost constantly making himself small through the Force around Tahiri, who, in turn, was also still in her disguise as Leary Trest. Thus, he wasn't convinced that, at any moment, several of Thrackan's goons wouldn't bust in through his private room and use whatever anti-Jedi weaponry they had on them to take him out because his second cousin decided, for whatever reason, that he didn't have any use for Jacen anymore.

Still, even with this perpetual vigilance, the physiologically-encompassing need for sleep won out against Jacen's will and he fell into the first deep slumber that he had in days.

But, however long that sleep was, it was abruptly cut off by a sudden slap in the face, waking Jacen up. The next thing he knew, the feeling of a vibroblade was up against his throat; and with the darkness of his room still around him, he couldn't tell who the intruder was.

Instinctively, Jacen let loose from his presence-cloaking and Force-blasted the assailant to the ceiling; the grunt that resulted from the inevitable impact was a female one, but that didn't quite register in Jacen's mind until after he Force-pinned the intruder to the wall ahead of him.

Only after he turned on his room's light with his free hand did he see that the person he had trapped was Tahiri.

"So," she said with a snarl as she tried vainly to break out of his Force-hold, "it really is you, Jacen."

As his expression dropped from determination to dread, his free hand went up to his face; the prostheses that made him look like Hecluse were gone again.

"I have 'em in my pockets if you want 'em back," Tahiri said with an unpleasant grin. "That is, if you're willing to let me go."

Jacen took a moment to himself for the shock of his cover being blown to Tahiri to be overcome before he said, "How? How did you know?"

"That it was you? At first, I didn't; but it didn't take me long to realize that those prostheses weren't exactly that convincing the more I looked at 'em. Tell me, Jacen, how much Force-trickery did you have to use to convince others that you were this Candak Hecluse, and do you think it was the ol' Solo luck that led you to come across exclusively weak-minded fools?" Tahiri's tone dripped with bitter contempt the entire time she spoke.

Instead of answering what he recognized to be mean-spirited remarks rather than genuine questions, Jacen asked, "What are you doing here, Tahiri? Why are you mixed up in all this? Why are you with Thrackan? And why... why did you kill Corran?"

"He got in my way," Tahiri snarled. "I couldn't let him live; he would've ruined everything."

"What would he have ruined?"

"Go kriff yourself, Jacen."

He grimaced. "I feel your presence, Tahiri. It's tainted, very tainted, with the dark side of the Force."

"I thought you didn't believe in the dark side anymore, Jacen. That there were no sides to the Force and all that crap."

Jacen's lips thinned. "I used to think that. But only now do I realize that I was wrong in that regard; the dark side of the Force is very real. And I feel it all too strongly in you, Tahiri."

She chuckled throatily. "I might as well tell you now. My name isn't Tahiri Veila anymore."

"No," Jacen said with wide-eyed shock; he tensed over what she was going to say next.

"My name is Acheron." Her eyes then glowed yellow-red. "Darth Acheron."

Suddenly, Jacen's Force-hold on Tahiri—or Acheron, as she called herself now—was broken, and then he was pinned up against the bedframe behind him. The Sith before him dropped to a crouch before she stood up to her full height and casually walked toward him, holding up the vibroblade that she had held up to his throat earlier.

When she made it to his side and was ready to plunge the vibroblade through his throat, just like she did to Corran, the door to Jacen's room suddenly opened, and several Centerpoint Party goons rushed in baring blaster rifles toward Acheron.

"Put it down!" the central goon shouted.

And it was only then that all of the cronies started to flicker in and out of existence, much to Acheron's confusion.

Her concentration having faltered thanks to the distraction provided by the illusory guards, Jacen broke out of the Sith's Force-hold and telekinetically blasted her to her back. He then leaped off his bed and pounced on her, physically pinning both her wrists and legs with his hands and knees respectively to the floor before headbutting her.

She was stunned, but still conscious, prompting her to use her entire body to project the Force outward and blast Jacen to the ceiling; he Force-cushioned the impact but still saw stars in his vision as he descended back to the floor. Still, he was able to kick Acheron's vibroblade out of her hand before landing and punching her across the face, sending her stumbling to a corner of the room.

But when she recovered, she telekinetically sent the discarded vibroblade on a trajectory back to her hand, only for Jacen to intercept it with his own telekinesis and have its hilt smack into his own palm. He then adopted a defensive stance with the 'blade and said, "C'mon, Tahiri; try it." There was no sympathy in his tone, or any grief for what the woman before him had been in their childhood and teenage years; those were pushed to the back of Jacen's mind, as he knew that if he were to try to appeal to whatever light was left in her, he would not win this fight. Thus, he had meant that statement as nothing more than a challenging remark to a dangerous enemy.

"I told you," she said before another vibroblade slipped out from her left sleeve and into her hand, "it's Acheron." She then charged towards him.

When they met again, Jacen found that he could barely stand his ground as his confiscated 'blade clashed with Acheron's; her attacks were, as was natural of the Sith, vicious and unrelenting, meant solely to kill her opponent. It was obvious to Jacen, as they fought, that whatever training she had undergone with this mysterious Sith organization had improved her combat prowess to the point that she could be a match for him, if not slightly more.

Nevertheless, as vicious as her attacks were, Jacen remained firm where he was, conserving as much energy in his defenses in the hope that Acheron would eventually tire out in her attacks and inadvertently allow him an opening by which he could either kill her or at least wound her just enough to render her unable to fight any further.

Unfortunately, it took less than a minute for Acheron's viciousness to win out over Jacen's energy-conserving defenses as she scored a grazing slash to the right side of his stomach; he staggered back a couple steps from the pain, allowing Acheron to kick him in his center mass so that he fell back upon the bed behind him.

But just as she leaped up and was about to strike him down, the door to the room opened and the Centerpoint goon that appeared there in his pajamas levelled his blaster and shot a stun blast upon Acheron just as she was still midair; she collapsed unconscious upon Jacen, who grunted as the wound in his side was exacerbated by her landing.

He craned his neck to see his savior, who was promptly joined by several other goons, also all in their pajamas, who entered the room with their own blasters; they were obviously the real deal this time, and not an illusion meant as a distraction to his enemy.

"Sorry it took us so long," the one who shot Acheron said; his expression, as well as that of his cohorts, seemed unperturbed at seeing Jacen without his facial prostheses. "We only just woke up; no time to get our uniforms."

"Well, thanks for the save regardless," Jacen said as he moved Acheron's limp form off of him and to the side of the bed. He sat up as two of the goons grabbed her by either shoulder and dragged her out of the room.

Once Acheron and the goons who were dragging her were gone from the room, Jacen looked to the shooter and asked, "You think this means Thrackan's gonna keep her in her cell this time?"

The shooter shrugged. "That's up to him; but if you ask me, she might get an ankle bracelet or something that'll keep her on a tighter leash after this."

"I was afraid you'd say that," Jacen said before he winced upon touching his wound. "Hey, can I get a bacta patch here?"

But before anyone could respond, he straightened up where he sat; he felt another Sith aboard this station.

"Never mind," he said as he stood up and shifted the pain of his wound to the back of his mind. "I think what your boss is worried about is here." He then rushed out of the room before any of the goons could question him.