The Grey Condor fluttered aimlessly in the impossible vastness of space. Two weeks had passed since Plasma left Nar Shaddaa. He had been patiently waiting for an update from Admiral Juna and the Imperial Intelligence Service. Meanwhile, he used that period of solitude to meditate and to develop his strategy.
He reckoned he could simply hyperjump to Alderaan and search for the abductors of his sister himself. However, everything had to be perfect. His plan had to be flawless; he would not put little Puath at risk. The king could hold the girl like hostage if he discovered that Plasma was coming.
The Sith Lord would not settle for anything less than perfection; and so, he waited.
Suddenly, a soft ringing brought him back from the realm of the Force. The huge HoloNet terminal, at the center of the ship's main deck, became active, projecting two large and blue silhouettes in the air. Plasma opened his eyes and looked at them from below, and that humbling position was suitable for there before him appeared his master, Darth Komm'et – accompanied by an unknown man.
"My amazing Apprentice!" she smiled sincerely. "How I missed you."
"My Master Darth Komm'ett," he smiled and bowed subtly. "I've missed you too; are you in Kaas City? Have you spoken with the Major?"
The man beside her adjusted his posture. He was tall, broad-shouldered, and twice as wide as the Zabrak. He wore an elaborate and ornate suit of ultra tech armor, and a featureless masked helmet covered his face. He spoke nothing, holding his hands behind his back.
"Mind your manners, Lord Plasma," Komm'ett said dryly. "You are in the presence of a member of the Dark Council. This is my master: Darth Destruktor."
"It is an immense honor, my Lord," Plasma bowed slightly lower at him.
"The honor is mine," he said with an unexpected humility. His voice was deep and low, and he spoke as if purring, choosing his words carefully. "The Dark Council has learned of your accomplishments, and we request your immediate presence on Dromund Kaas."
Plasma raised his head again, staring at the man with a puzzled look on his face. The Dark Council was not something that Major Bradin Zhatt had covered thoroughly in the Imperial Handbook he had written for the young Sith. With a genuine curiosity, he asked:
"Is my presencestrictly necessary, Darth Destruktor?"
Destruktor raised an eyebrow behind his mask and chuckled with good humor; the question had caught genuinely off guard. Komm'ett beside him, however, did not as amused, and she hissed at her apprentice, reprehending him like a mother.
"You must never keep the Council waiting!"
"It is ok, Darth Komm'et," Destruktor said. "I would like to know what is more important than the call from the most powerful entity in the Sith Empire."
"My mission is," Plasma said unabashedly. "I have located my youngest sister and have been working on my strategy."
"Your dedication is remarkable, young one," Destruktor acknowledged. "You live up to the reputation of being Darth Komm'ett's apprentice. I assure you that this business on Dromund Kaas will only hasten your success…"
Transmission terminated.
###
The Imperial Capital World of Dromund Kaas was at the heart of the Seat of the Empire, a region of the Galaxy that neighbored the Coreward Worlds and the Hutt Space, a subregion of the Outer Rim.
Plasma dedicated himself to re-reading the manual Bradin had written for him. He wanted to polish his knowledge of Imperial etiquette as to not embarrass himself before the Dark Council. He also meditated on his accomplishments.
Meditation was still his favorite activity. To drown alone in the Force, faced with nothing but his own reflection, his own self, swimming on the living energy of the galaxy. His knowledge of the exact location of Puath kept him at ease. He could rely on Admiral Juna if necessary.
The uncertainty of the future, though, kept him on edge. As much as he had been developing a flawless plan, the thing that kept him awake was: how would little Puath react to her big brother? Would she even remember him?
Was Plasma prepared to accept her rejection if it came to that? He refused to think about that; he was not prepared.
###
Two days later, the ship exited hyperspace already in the Dromund system. The Sith capital was part of the Esstran sector, enclosed by the Stygian Nebula. The Interceptor quickly crossed the vastness between the fifth planet - the inhospitable Dromund Tyne – passing by the fourth, the arid Dromund Fels – until it reached the deep-blue, purple, and green planet Dromund Kaas, the third from the sun.
The Grey Condor penetrate the atmosphere and roared across the blue sky. Dromund Kaas was a terrestrial world of dangerous jungles, vast seas, and endless swamps, home to millions of Imperial citizens – most of which were military personnel. To live in Dromund Kaas was considered an honor reserved for few.
Plasma thought that the landscapes of Dromund Kaas were similar to Neferas-V, and the Force in there felt almost the same; it was sweet and fresh. Below, on the surface, Plasma observed the tall mountains, the carpets of jungles, and many different types of animals, which he had never seen before – some were bipedal, lizard-like carnivores; others were small and quadrupedal; there were sleek, long-tailed predators, and small, feathery birds.
Beyond the jungles, hidden in the horizon, he could see the immense skyline of Kaas City. The city had been built by settlers nearly one thousand and three hundred years before, and now boasted tall skyscrapers, enormous buildings, and countless military bases. Ships and speeders flew into and out of the city like butterflies around a beautiful flower.
The gigantic spaceport had been constructed a few kilometers away from the capital, at the foot of a tall mountain to the East. The ship was hailed by the spaceport authorities with permission to land. and Plasma nested the Grey Condor over a spacious landing pad, where a swarm of droids and technicians were on stand-by.
A group of Human officers met Plasma outside the starport as soon as the Sith Lord passed through the main gates. They wore black-and-grey uniforms, similar to the Major's; theirs were much simpler, and they did not have as many medals.
They introduced themselves as personal escorts sent by Darth Destruktor, who directed the young Cathar to a weird, trapezoid-shaped shuttle. They flew him over a lush forest and a wide river. Even though half of Dromund Kaas had been urbanized, the planet still preserved most of its amazing nature.
The capital city of the Empire was an urban complex, so humongous that it disappeared beyond the planet's curvature. Gigantic skyscrapers, so tall that they were blanketed by clouds, composed the sterile maze of steel, glass and stone. There was a constant, buzzing traffic of speeders and vessels, but it seemed to move automatically, so different from Nar Shaddaa.
Buildings follow the standard Imperial Architecture. with geometric, hard-angled, and straight shapes. A great wall girdled the entire city. Imperial flags and banners dotted every façade and decorated every street and wall. The largest ones had been installed on the front of the very skyscraper that Plasma flew to, on the Northern side of the city. He observed that the building was separated from the common city by a deep chasm, and it was only accessible by speeder.
The shuttle parked on the roof of the tower. From there, Plasma could see the sprawling city below, stretching well beyond his sight. The officers left the shuttle, conducting the Sith to a private turbolift.
They bowed, and Plasma entered the lift capsule. It descended rapidly, falling into an abyss, stopping just a few seconds later. The door slid open, revealing a carpeted corridor. He followed it along, taking a right turn, and stopping before a five-meter-high metal door, engraved with Sith motifs and the Sith Code from ceiling to floor.
It opened by itself as Plasma approached. Inside, he saw the Council Chambers. A circular, spacious room, decorated with Imperial banners. Six enormous, stone statues stood by the walls on both sides, behind the twelve elevated thrones. A hexagonal platform lay at the center of the room, where Plasma marched to.
Each one of the ornate thrones was empty. Plasma studied the place until he finally met Komm'ett's eyes. She stood beside a throne upon which Darth Destruktor rested. She smiled subtly at her apprentice.
"It's great to see you!" Plasma said, his voice echoing. Komm'ett cleared her throat awkwardly, gesturing at Plasma to remain silent.
"Lord Plasma," Darth Destruktor spoke slowly, choosing the words and their tones carefully. There seemed to be a constant, condescending tone in his voice. He stared down at Plasma. "We shall commence the ceremony."
"What ceremony?" Plasma asked. "Master, what's going on?"
She gestured at him again. The Cathar turned around on his heels when the thrones, empty until that moment, lit up with the holographic projections of eleven Sith Lords. Plasma halted at the exact center of the room.
"Lord Plasma," Destruktor spoke again, standing up. "You have proven your worth as a warrior and your valor as a Sith of the Empire. Many of our brothers would not accomplish in a lifetime what you have accomplished in such two years.
You have single-handedly located and eliminated two traitors of the Empire; you single-handedly dismantled the operations of a Hutt Crime Boss and, in doing so, prevented the assassination of a high-ranking officer of the Empire.
You alone have won the support of the entire population of Nal Hutta; they speak your name in hushed reverence. Through your actions, you have persuaded the other members of the Hutt Cartel to pledge allegiance to the Empire.
You may, single-handedly, have turned the tides of war in our favor. Few others have attained such achievements — those of which have immortalized themselves upon these very thrones."
Darth Destruktor opened his arms. Powerful spotlights snapped with electricity, illuminating the perfectly-sculpted statues along the walls, brightening the names of Sith Lords he had read briefly about—Marka Ragnos, Ajunta Pall, Tulak Hord, Karness Muur, Sorzus Syn, XoXaan, Remulus Dreypa, Broodica, and more. Destruktor continued.
"These were the reasons upon which this Council has come to a historical decision. Lord Plasma, let this be a testament to your power and might; let your name reverberate across the galaxy. Let your deeds echo throughout History."
The ceremony was overwhelming, and the displays were grand. The other Sith Lords watched and nodded, leaning against the backrest, or inclined forward holding their faces on their hands. His master, Komm'ett, watched him grimly. Plasma had not yet understood what it was about, not until Darth Destruktor intoned the words:
"We bestow upon you the rank of Darth."
Plasma's first instinct was to raise an eyebrow and look at Destruktor. Then, his heart began pounding against his chest and he felt his body warm up. To him, it seemed rushed. His master had said that one day he might become a great Darth, and compared to the Conqueror of Coruscant, it seemed that he had accomplished nothing of note.
Komm'ett walked up to him holding a thin, rectangular box.
"Master, what's happening?" Plasma whispered.
"We will talk later," she responded with a smile. "Open the box."
Plasma produced a long, black cape from the box. It was not a simple travel cloak. That cape was long, heavy, and ornate, weaved with cortosis, and reinforced along the shoulders with synthmesh. Komm'ett master attached the cape to his shoulder pads with a magnetic clamp.
"The cape is a symbol of power," she announced. "Wear it proudly, and all will know."
The other Councilmen nodded in acknowledgement and stood up. They chanted the Sith Code, and, just like that, the ceremony ended. Plasma still lingered on the last line, The Force shall free me, as he left the chambers.
###
In her private chambers, Darth Destruktor's heavy boots pressed the head of Darth Komm'ett to the floor. She felt as if he could crush her skull.
"How do you explain that?"
His voice was controlled yet impatient, a type of moderate anger inherent to the most experienced of the Sith. He stood there, above the overpowered body of his apprentice. Komm'ett wiped the blood off her nose, not daring to look up, prone and helpless.
"Did you not feel the pulse of the Light in him?" he growled again. "Your training was faulty. You have disappointed me."
"There is no Light, only confusion," she pleaded. "That is the effect of hope, and it can be fixed."
"You had better offer me a solution this instant, my pupil, or you will regret your mistakes." He stepped away, towering over Komm'ett, his thick arms crossed before his armored chest. Komm'ett was nearly one meter shorter than him.
She stood up hesitantly, not daring to look at his masked face. "I have a solution. Would you trust me to resolve this issue, Master?"
"Do not disappoint me again."
###
One hour had passed, and Plasma was still unable to meet with his master. She had disappeared into her private chambers and had not answered her communicator. It felt strange; Plasma had just been given the greatest honor of his life and Darth Komm'ett seemed to be avoiding her apprentice.
Darth Plasma sauntered around the Sith Enclave building; it was an awe-inspiring construction. Its proportions were awesome – everything inside was so massive. The catwalks were wide, long and high in the air; the platforms were hexagonal and spacious; the spires of data centers and computer servers were enormous, disappearing below the surface.
Many other Sith were present, but none of them seemed interested in speaking to him; on the contrary, Plasma felt they were deliberately avoiding him. He caught angered glances toward him, Lords and Apprentices who seemed displeased with something. They muttered to each other when Plasma passed them.
He called Darth Komm'ett again; still, no response. Tired of waiting for her, Darth Plasma wanted to see the city. He left the Dark Council through the front gates and followed along a wide pathway that led to a parking bay. Armored soldiers and uniformed officers saluted him.
It was hot outside; the sky was cloudless and blue, with the Dromund Sun shining brightly. In the distance, a familiar face waved at Plasma. An elegant Human stood by a long, black, and striped-red luxurious landspeeder, a Czerka Sedan T-800. Major Bradin Zhatt saluted the newest Darth.
"Congratulations, my Lord," Bradin said with pride in his voice. He opened the passenger side door. Plasma entered the car, pulling the new cape over to his legs.
"I don't understand," Plasma confessed. "They listed two or three things I did and then turned me into a Darth?"
"It is well deserved, my Lord."
"No, it's not…" he protested. "It's hardly been two years. The way my master spoke left me with the impression that Darth was supposed to be the achievement of a lifetime."
"I am not Sith myself," Bradin added. "What I do know, though, is that, if they made you a Darth, they know that you deserve it."
Plasma sighed loudly, staring outside the flying speeder, the city zooming past them. The Major continued, breaking the silence.
"You have acquired a whole set of benefits, my Lord," he said proudly. "An Imperial Account to your name, your own estate, a sizeable yearly income, many privileges…"
"Wait, estate?" Plasma stared at him wide-eyed.
"Positive. Your own residence in an exclusive floating island here, in Kaas City."
Bradin pointed at something in the distance. Plasma saw a cluster of houses floating above the city, like a small constellation. His mind immediately drifted away. The further it went into the dreams, the larger his smile became. He had a real house, with real beds, and real clothes, and real toys. He would wish three bedrooms; his sisters would have each their own, and their dresses, and shoes, and uniforms would be tidily kept in the wardrobes.
They would attend the best school in the galaxy. He recalled that they always dreamed of adopting a pet. Perhaps a baha cat, savage but tamable. Or one of those forest canines. What would they name it, he thought?
Plasma took a deep breath, staring emptily at the sky. The Major's voice brought him back. Plasma apologized. The car had stopped, and the young Sith realized they had parked in front of a beautiful two-hundred square meters house, constructed atop a huge floating rock, maybe six hundred meters above the city. Darth Komm'ett stood by the front door, smiling.
"Surprise," Komm'ett said when Plasma approached. He jumped into her arms and hugged her warmly and tightly. "I am proud of you, my Apprentice…"
The house was beautiful and modern, spacious and with a high ceiling. It was one story high, built with ferrocrete and plasteel, with windows and doors of transparisteel. Along the façade, there were stripes of decorative aurodium. Plasma noticed it was empty. He walked towards the door, and Komm'ett handed him a shiny keycard.
"You have dreamt of this," Komm'ett said. "And it will become true. This is where you and your sisters will live."
Plasma was speechless. He looked at the Major, who smiled fatherly at him, and at his Master, who had this motherly pride in her face. He unlocked the door and went inside.
He entered a modest lobby, separated from the living room by a wooden door. The living room, at the center of the house, was roomy; at the opposite window, there was a plasma-induced hearth, with a mantelpiece, and an empty wall above it. There he would place the painting of his sisters.
There were two corridors to the East and the West; to the East, the hall led them to the bedrooms, three of them. His master bedroom suite, and two smaller chambers for his sisters – twice as large as their apartment on the planetoid. The other hall led to a big bathroom and a large kitchen beyond it.
Plasma's boots echoed in the empty house as he paced around it, dragging his fingers along the walls. When he turned to face his master, his fur soaked with tears; he could not control his happiness.
"Here, here…" Komm'ett whispered and embraced him. Plasma's body shuddered as he sobbed with joy; he grabbed her cape with strong fingers, like a child who would not let their mother go. "This was not given to you; you have earned it, apprentice, through your own effort and dedication. The Empire is grateful or what you have done, and we are preparing a homage to you."
Plasma rested his head on her chest, listening to her respiration. Komm'ett continued:
"I wish we could celebrate more, but I have urgent Dark Council matters to attend to. You would not believe how bureaucratic it is for a master who has a pupil appointed as Darth."
She giggled humorously. Before saying goodbye, Plasma looked deeply into her eyes. He thanked her through the Force. The Major saluted her, and they left for the spaceport.
The speeder began its descent towards the spaceport. Plasma could see his Fury-class Interceptor from above.
"I haven't asked about your family," Plasma said. "How are them? Are they in the city?"
"Do not worry, Lord Plasma." Bradin shook his head, smiling. "I wish you would meet my daughter Jordana; she is away with her company. Perhaps, on another occasion."
The car landed. The Major typed in a few commands on the speeder's computer, then exited the car; Plasma followed him. The vehicle beeped, started its engine, flying away back to the Zhatt Estate. The pair entered the immense spaceport, disappearing into the crowd of soldiers, droids, officers, mechanics, and technicians.
"Your ship has been prepared and is ready for takeoff, my Lord," Bradin announced.
"That is great, Major, but…" Plasma hesitated and pointed at the cantina across the lobby. "We can eat and talk for a while. Tell me of your vacation!"
A droid conducted them to a private table near the back. They sat down and relaxed. The place was exclusive and quiet.
"The break was much needed, dare I say," Bradin spoke sternly. "I was able to attend my daughter's graduation ceremony at the Imperial Officers Academy. I was a guest of honor and delivered the most inspired speech. Then, I was able to take my wife out to our second honey-moon – she had always wanted to visit Dantooine."
Plasma said nothing. He just leaned forward and amicably squeezed Bradin's shoulder. The Sith felt genuinely happy for Bradin Zhatt. He should not sacrifice his own life while helping Plasma find his.
"Your kindness is what permitted me to have these memories," Bradin whispered with watery eyes. "For that, you have my deepest, most sincere gratitude."
Plasma shrugged, smiling awkwardly as he chewed on a piece of bantha steak. "You'd have done the same for me."
"I most certainly would," Bradin responded with the same seriousness, but this time his voice was charged with a degree of happiness. "You have my unwavering loyalty."
"I… I just wanted your friendship," Plasma looked up. "I did for you what I wished a friend would have done for me."
They shook hands, but it felt as if they had exchanged a warm hug. Bradin's face seemed younger, and he smiled openly at Plasma. They finished their meal and spoke for a long time. When the third bottle of Kaasian Mead was empty, the Sith slapped his leg and stood up.
"I believe it's time for me to make some good memories for myself, too," Plasma said. "Are you ready to hit the stars with me?"
"Darth Plasma," Bradin said, standing up straight and giving him a military salute. "I swear we will find your sisters, or I will die trying."