A Shift in the Force: Chapter Fifty-Seven: Conflict on Malachor

AN: I'm glad the eyes were well-received because I wasn't sure how well everyone would like them, but I'm a huge sucker for symbolism.


Sabé came around with a groan, blinking her eyes as she straightened up, the Sith Holocron still clutched in her hand, gleaming malevolently. She smoothed her fingers over its surface, feeling the thrum of the crystal within; of the Force.

She took a step forward, and that was her mistake.

Sabé didn't yell this time when her foot went through the floor, and she found herself crumpled on the level below, though it did a great deal to sour her mood.

The Holocron had been loosed from her grip in the fall, but it took her minimal effort to reclaim it and look around herself with interest.

It was some kind of weaponry, at least, that was what it looked to Sabé. There were several lightsabers stacked on latches on the wall, untouched after centuries, but they were by no means the only weapons in the room. Sabé knew from research that the Jedi had once relied on Force-imbued blades, so she wasn't entirely surprised to find that the same could be said of the Sith.

There were a few of what the Sith Holocron of Korriban had called Sith swords. Double-edged swords strengthened with the Force, but incredibly heavy Sabé found as she lifted one with both of her hands with a grunt.

It wasn't unmanageable, just a bit difficult, but obviously better suited for a larger and stronger species than Sabé's own. Sabé swung it experimentally before replacing it against the wall.

The Sith war sword was of more interest to her, to be perfectly honest, similar in size and appearance to her quarterstaff as it was a twin-bladed staff. But blades could be rather messy, and its weight was unfamiliar in her hands.

And then there were rows upon rows of Shikkar mounted on the wall, and Sabé picked one up with interest. It was an assassin's tool, a dagger almost as long as her forearm that could easily be concealed and with a twist of the handle would break the tip of the blade off under the skin, leaving it to fester.

Sabé wondered if the daggers were still sturdy after all these years, taking up one of the daggers and throwing it so that it slid into the wall.

She frowned at it. "Sith alchemy," she decided under her breath before collecting a few more than probably Jay-Seven would've liked, tucking them into her bag with the Holocron before turning her attention to the last items.

There were a series of bulbous capsules, black and unmarked, but Sabé knew well enough to know what they contained. Sith poison could be quite deadly, causing pain, paralysis, death, or blood frenzy.

Sabé knew a poisoner that would enjoy something like that, and no one would be any the wiser, after all, who else would come?

She tightened the straps on her pack before hopping her way out of the hole she'd fallen through and then buffeting herself in the force as she leapt back onto the ledge she'd fallen from.

Meetra had vanished, but Sabé honestly hadn't been expecting her to remain. She'd only been there in a guiding capacity, and Sabé no longer needed a guide.

She brushed the dirt off her clothes before lifting the stone slabs and making her way back through the temple before pausing to sit on the steps of the pyramidal structure, heaving a heavy sigh.

One should never meet their heroes, she resolved, her thoughts lingering on Meetra, but Sabé had done a lot of unspeakable things in the name of the Jedi; it wasn't really surprising that she identified with her so much.

Sabé blinked her eyes and had no idea of how much the color had changed.


Knowledge was a curse, that much Taria knew. Going over the details of Knight Maw's past felt like a huge invasion of privacy, which was ironic because everything a Jedi Shadow did was a huge invasion of privacy, but Taria had literally sliced into the computers to get to Maw's very classified mission history.

There was so much about Maw that she'd never wanted to know and there was so much proof that Sabé wasn't wrong to believe him to be the cause of Siri Tachi's death and burning Sabé and Taria on missions prior that Sabé's disappearance and then exile. Taria had been sticking to the Temple as of late, her paranoia heightened, simply claiming that she'd like to focus on teaching the Initiates instead, as a member of the Council of First Knowledge, in the seat that Sabé had once sat in.

"Are you all right, Taria?"

Taria jolted in her seat, only to relax at the sight of Etain Tur-Mukan's concerned eyes fixed on her.

"Etain," Taria said, a hand to her chest, her heart beating wildly beneath it, "don't scare me like that!"

To her credit, Etain didn't even blink.

"You seem stressed," her friend pointed out, settling to sit beside Taria in the very quiet Archives.

"Do I?" Taria asked vaguely, turning her attention back to the computer, her stylus moved across her datapad, jotting down data.

"Taria, what you need is some sleep," Etain pressed. "You can't help Sabé with whatever it is she needs if you're falling asleep on your feet."

Taria froze, and Etain gave her a slight smile. "Come on, Taria, I know both of you too well. You Jedi Shadows had a kind of trust that I could never understand."

Taria thought of Maw. "Not all of us," she said, scrolling through the details once more, only for her eyes to widen. "Ah, kriff."

"What?" Etain asked, but Taria wasn't listening as she pulled out her comm, thumbing to the frequency that Sabé used. "It's me, I know how you feel about being contacted on the comms, but I've got some info that you might want to hear."


Paranoia was strong with Sabé, but she accepted Taria's visual communication once she'd tucked away her rucksack in the Sunrise. Taria's wavering face had given a violent start when she'd seen Sabé, but Sabé chalked that up to Taria just not seeing Sabé for awhile and surprised at her short and free-hanging curls.

"You're certain of this?" Sabé asked seriously.

"I'm not certain of anything," Taria countered, "but something is missing in one of these mission reports. The one about Master Mina Podia's disappearance was…I don't know how to explain it; it was off."

"What were the mission details?" Sabé wasn't familiar with that mission; she was probably still a Padawan at the time.

"It looks to be just a routine mission to a place called the Prism—"

"The Prism?" Sabé repeated, surprise etched on her face. "You're sure?"

"Why? What is it?" Taria inquired, her brow furrowed as her image on the screen wavered in static briefly.

"It's a facility that was developed during the Second Great Schism to house Dark Jedi deemed too dangerous to society." Sabé pursed her lips. "It's not very well-known, and I thought it was a bit shady of the Jedi, but the Jedi have never put much stock in my views."

"Sabé—" Taria started to say, but a loud beep interrupted her on the comm and Sabé swore. "What's wrong?"

"Something's coming out of hyperspace," Sabé growled. "Arthree, scan the Dawning and the Sunrise for any trackers."

A second later she swore again. "There's a tracker on the hull of the Sunrise. Dammit, Quinlan."

"Quinlan?" Taria asked in confusion. "Quinlan Vos? Aayla's old master?"

"And my ex," Sabé scowled. "One of the many."

"You have some questionable taste in men!"

"And women," Sabé muttered, peering through the viewport in time to see a small craft appear. "Keep an eye on Maw, Taria, I'll send you a comm once I deal with this."

Taria opened her mouth to say something, but Sabé cut the connection before she could get it out. She grabbed her quarterstaff before jumping up on top of the Sunrise to find the tracker before stamping on it with the heel of her boot.

"Too late now," she grumbled to herself. "Jay, be ready, we might need to make a run for it."

"Standing by," the droid intoned as Sabé situated her mask over her face and hopped off as the craft landed, narrowing her eyes behind her mask at the two figures that descended from the ramp.

She didn't know either of them, but she could tell they were both Chiss; Near-Humans that were blue in color, tall, and having bright red eyes. There was one in House Renliss, a bounty hunter named Varina Hanew. She was a bit older, a veteran bounty hunter that trained the new recruits to be more ruthless than ever before.

But these two were different from her, both slight in build with a thick blaster rifle on the back of the male, and with two lightsabers between them.

Sabé knew this was not going to end well. She could sense their darkness, much like her own as Carina, but not as strong, not as potent.

She twisted her quarterstaff in her hands as she approached calmly, tension in her muscles.

"Sabé Amidala, I presume," the man said, "your reputation preceded you, but I'll admit…you're shorter than I expected."

Sabé arched an eyebrow behind her mask. "And who're you supposed to be, exactly?"

"I'm Vandalor," the man said before gesturing to his companion who had been glaring at Sabé since they'd come to a stop in front of one another. "This is Sev'rance."

"You will not survive us," Sev'rance informed her coldly, calling her 'saber to her hand and lighting the crimson blade.

"And you honestly think a Dark Jedi can test someone who was once a Sith?" Sabé's amusement echoed. "Your master must be very eager to get rid of you."

No one could say that Sabé wasn't good at goading others and Sev'rance yelled as she lunged forward, only to be blocked by Sabé's quarterstaff, wide eyes stunned that she hadn't managed to cut it in half.

Sabé didn't need a lightsaber to block one.

The other one ducked in from the side, and Sabé nailed the end of her quarterstaff into Sev'rance's chest in order to twist and block Vandalor's.

She didn't know who these two were, she didn't know why they'd been tracking her, but she very much doubted that it was for a good reason.

Maw's face swam before her eyes and the deepening doubts she'd had for months were only now solidifying. But she had no way of knowing if it was actually him without confronting the Boltrunian herself.

Sabé ducked smoothly and twisted between the blades, vaguely wondering if this was how Darth Maul had felt when he found himself battling both Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan.

Unfortunately, Sabé didn't have the luxury of dying at the right moment.

She swung her quarterstaff wildly above her head, banging harshly against the head of Vandalor, but Sev'rance swerved to avoid it.

Between the two of them, Sev'rance appeared to be the more skilled, but Vandalor was problematic.

Sabé pulled out one of her blaster pistols, firing the bolts off.

Two nabbed Vandalor in his legs, and he fell with a yell, but it was what happened next that severely startled Sabé.

Sev'rance, without even thinking, pulled her 'saber on her partner, running him through until his movements stilled, and then calling his 'saber to her hand, twisting them both around with a bit more flourish than necessary.

"Killing your own partner? A bit cold, don't you think?" Sabé asked archly. Sabé, at the least, had never killed any of her fighting partners.

"Coming from Darth Carina herself?" Sev'rance sneered.

Sabé shrugged. "I won't say I'm perfect, but if I were going to kill my partner, I'd wait until they'd outserved their use."

"Who's to say he didn't?" An eyebrow curved upwards daringly before bringing the lightsabers down on Sabé.

Her use of Jar'Kai was shoddy at best, and Sabé was used to novices trying their hand at it, thinking it was a simple thing to use two 'sabers in the same way as having one. Too many young Jedi had tried that route with Keelyvine to little avail.

"Is that the best you've got?" Sabé laughed, blocking the strikes. Now that she didn't have to worry about two of them, it was a bit easier. Sev'rance was young, and she was clearly overestimating her self-worth. She had some skill, but not enough to keep her alive, that much Sabé would make certain of.

Sev'rance gave a wild scream, beating her 'sabers down on Sabé's quarterstaff. Clearly, she didn't take being the weaker opponent well. Honestly, Sabé had gotten rather used that when she'd been training with Keelyvine.

"So, who sent you?" Sabé asked conversationally, darting back so that the slash aimed for her throat left a blackened mark on the ground.

"Maybe I sent myself," Sev'rance growled, growing steadily more irritated about Sabé's ability to avoid her strikes, but maybe if she'd been a bit better trained, it wouldn't have been an issue.

"You don't seem that forward-thinking," Sabé pointed out, and Sev'rance glared. "It's a joint effort; obviously someone wants me dead. Quinlan couldn't manage it, so he tagged my shuttle and now here you are trying to finish what he started." She narrowed her eyes, and a powerful push of the Force, sent Sev'rance sprawling backwards to land on her back, the 'sabers forced from her hands and Sabé strode forward, aiming her blaster pistol downwards.

"Let's have a chat Sev'rance Lisett Tann of Chiss," Sabé said, and Sev'rance's eyes widened. "Your mental shields are not what you had hoped. Obviously, you haven't been trained by the Jedi, so I presume the Sith picked you and your friend over there up."

Sabé saw a muscle jump in Sev'rance's jaw and saw her hand clench, feeling the Force swell around the downed lightsabers, calling them to her side, but Sabé didn't even have to move to freeze the 'sabers in the air, and not even Sev'rance's might could draw them forward.

"What are you?" she demanded in horrified awe.

"I'm the daughter of the Force," Sabé intoned, recalling the title Bendu had referred to her with utter clarity. "You were outmatched before our duel even began."

Sev'rance's skin around her red eyes lightened as she paled. "His name was Darth Tyranus."

"Tyranus trained you, I presume?" This was new information. Sabé remembered the Rule of Two well for the Sith that there were always two Sith, no more and no less, and only a fool would actually believe that they had died out long ago. "How many of you are there?"

Sev'rance's eyes flashed to her partner's fallen form. "Twelve, now," she hissed, her words ringing with truth.

"Why the interest in me?" Sabé inquired. "A Force-wielding vagabond is hardly of interest to the Sith, even one that used to be a Sith."

"Tyranus doesn't care about you," Sev'rance snorted. "That was one of the Dark Disciples' idea. He doesn't like you."

"A lot of people don't like me," Sabé's words were flat and her expression unimpressed. "He's nothing special. What's his name?"

Sev'rance scoffed loudly, and Sabé was buffeted back as she probed her mind. "I'm not telling you."

"You don't have to," Sabé informed her coldly, aiming the blaster.

"You wouldn't kill me; you're a Jedi." The doubt in her voice burned through Sabé like a hot flame.

"Was a Jedi," Sabé corrected with a brittle smile, "and you know, the funniest thing was that I killed far more people when I was a Jedi than not…strange how that worked out."

Her hand was rock-steady. "Besides, I know well enough that letting someone go can bite me in the ass later. I'd rather keep my head attached to my neck, is all."

One bolt fired, and Sev'rance went silent.

Sabé replaced her blaster in its holster and didn't look back. She didn't take pleasure in the kill like Carina once had, but Sabé had outlived being merciful to those trying to kill her.

This time she turned to spare the pair a glance, the one who hadn't seen his death coming, and the one who had seen it too well and still hadn't believed it.

It sounded a bit like mutiny in the ranks of the 'Dark Disciples', whoever they were, but this Darth Tyranus was something new. Sabé had never heard that name before, but she supposed it could've been the one that trained Darth Maul.

The Force remained silent on the matter.

"Get the ship ready," Sabé said out loud, her words directed to the droids. "I'm coming up."


One of the classes all Initiates had to attend was engineering so that if it became necessary, they could perform basic repairs. However attempting to understand the inner mechanics of the Jedi transports wasn't exactly the strength of Caleb Dume. He was sure it had been more interesting for Anakin Skywalker –all the Initiates had seen the Padawan under one of the crafts in the hangar bay at one point or another– but he just couldn't get his mind to think about it like that.

Ahsoka had taken off for language studies, yelling for him to catch up, but Caleb had lost a vibro-wrench and struggled with trying to find it for a good half hour before calling quits.

The instructors didn't like it when their students lost things, so Caleb was lingering, trying to avoid his instructor for as long as possible when he spotted it, haphazardly resting on the floor in front of him like he'd just dropped it.

Now he wouldn't have to come up with an excuse for the instructors! That was a relief.

He bent down, picking it up, but when he straightened up, he felt an odd buzzing in his ears. Caleb looked to his left to one of the smaller transports that was clearly getting ready to take off soon.

The Force coaxed him, louder than it had ever been for him before and Caleb took a few steps forward, into the ship. He didn't think to consider that Ahsoka might come looking for him if he didn't show up in a few more minutes.

The training 'saber that he had stolen with Ahsoka so that they could practice their forms later in the dead of night was heavy under his robes, but the Force rang with warning in his ear, and he moved quickly to hide in the vents before he could be seen.

He peered out of the grate beneath him to see a Boltrunian Jedi passing under him, and Caleb thought he might have seen him speaking to Talik Shala once when he'd debated about asking her for another lesson in Niman, but she'd seemed so preoccupied with the Jedi that he'd thought it best not to.

That Jedi gave Caleb such an odd feeling that he couldn't help but think the Boltrunian was the reason that Talik had been speaking so heatedly that time.

Caleb could hear the comm start up with the engines firing and he felt a pang for the Temple, but he was more worried about what would happen if he came out of the vent now.

"It's me," the Jedi said, "it looks like Sev'rance and Vandalor failed to kill Amidala. I'm coming your way now, and I've got her frequency tracked."

Caleb paled where he was positioned in the vent. Amidala could only mean one person, one person who was important to the Jedi Order, or had been, at one point in time.

Sabé Amidala, the Exile.

Caleb Dume had a very bad feeling about this.


They stopped only once, and Caleb could feel how the ship shook before jolting them off into hyperspace once more and the vent around him made a grinding sound.

He prayed to the Force it would remain intact and breathed a silent sigh of relief when it did.

And he was so focused on remaining where he was that he didn't think to look down to see the guest, who had indeed sensed him, sensed him and said nothing.


The Dawning gave a loud moan, and Sabé gripped the console tightly as the ship shook around them. "What the kriff?"

"We are being pulled manually out of hyperspace," Jay-Seven saw fit to inform her and Sabé stared at him behind her mask.

"That's not possible, Jay!" she snapped. "You can't pull something out of hyperspace because you never know where it's going to be!"

"Then perhaps whoever it is that is following us has access to a gravity well projector," Jay-Seven's reply was rather sardonic and irritating.

They would've needed their coordinates or their frequency for that, and…fierfek. Sabé had practically given it to them by accepting Taria's comm on the Sunrise. He must've been monitoring Taria's outgoing comms then, waiting for her to comm Sabé and then struck while Taria was busy relaying the information she'd discovered to Sabé, giving him enough time to get a fix on her.

"Bastard," Sabé hissed before yelling over her shoulder. "Arthree, get to the rear cannons!"

The drop out of hyperspace was jolting, and Sabé was almost thrown out of her seat when there was a bright red light appearing on the board in front of her.

"We're being hailed," Jay-Seven informed her uselessly, and Sabé made sure that her mask was secured over her face, though it was practically useless now; he knew who she was.

"Hello, Sabé."

"Maw," Sabé intoned coldly at the sight of him on the monitor, "tell me, are you still playing at being a Jedi or have you moved on from that?"

He laughed. "So bitter, Sabé, so cold, but I guess that's what made you the perfect Sith."

"Oh, darling," Sabé's voice dripped with saccharine, "you sound just a bit jealous."

"Of you?" Maw scoffed. "Hardly."

"If you want the Holocron, I'm afraid it's long gone, and if you're going to kill me, you're going to have a rather difficult time of it," Sabé informed him, too incensed that her superior, someone she'd trusted would go through all this trouble, to sabotage her and Taria's Shadow missions, to kill Siri Tachi, to try for the Holocron.

"You don't want to face my wrath, Sabé," Maw warned her, his face twisting into something dark and dangerous.

"Oh, I think I do," Sabé responded shortly before cutting the connection. "Now, Arthree!"


The explosions rocked the ship, and Caleb was having a harder time remaining in the vents. The turbulence was enough to make his stomach twist in on itself, and he wondered how well Sabé Amidala was faring.

He squinted through the grate, trying to see the image on the monitor there. The ship was ducking and swerving, but the next shot nicked her wing and caused a bit of a stronger explosion that gave Caleb the feeling that the Boltrunian Jedi had been prepared for someone who could maneuver a ship quickly and had taken the precaution of using stronger laser cannon bolts.

The ship went down, trailing smoke and they followed, landing on a nearby planet, which one, Caleb wouldn't have even known.

When they touched down, he breathed out in relief, only to violently start when he heard: "Bring the stowaway."

The vent opened around him, and he crumpled to the floor with a loud yelp only to have his arm almost completely yanked out of its socket when he was dragged upright by the second man.

"Hey!" Caleb's eyes flashed up to the man's only to pale when he saw they were covered. He was a Miraluka, lacking eyes and seeing through the Force.

Caleb was dragged out of the ship, and he blinked in the harsh light only to swallow thickly at the lightsaber, red and humming, close to his throat.

"Don't move," the Miraluka told him, and for once, Caleb Dume did as he was told, his eyes watching the Boltrunian approaching the smoking ship only to dodge as the blast doors went flying towards him. Out of the smoke came a lone figure, a woman dressed in Corellian fatigues wearing a mask of the Jedi Temple Guards and holding two blaster pistols while a hulking security droid loomed behind her.

"Where was that wrath you told me about?" Sabé Amidala's voice resonated from behind the mask, slightly garbled that if Caleb didn't know she was the person they'd sought, he wouldn't have known it was her. "It's mine you should be more worried about."

The Force rippled between them, sparking hot and cold, like an explosion waiting to happen.


AN: So, Caleb has officially shown up in full! I've wanted to write this scene for an age! It didn't turn out quite the way I'd planned, but that's all right.

As always: PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE REVIEW!