For a war that has lasted less than four years, Ahsoka thinks, it often feels as if it's dragged on for a decade. They've changed, all of them. She's changed. Anakin's changed since the first time she looked up at him on Christophsis. Master Kenobi, Senator Amidala, even the Republic itself—everything has changed in these war-weary days that have pried away her adolescence and forced her to become a warrior, whether she was ready or not. But perhaps no one has gone through as many drastic shifts and turnabouts in such a short time as Lux Bonteri has.
Just a Separatist politician's kid when she first met him. Then a grieving son bent on revenge, a feeling so strong and blood-tinged that it led him to joining up—even if only temporarily—with Death Watch. Then a freedom fighter on Onderon. And now here he is with the loop complete, a strange sort of full circle ending up with Lux taking up his mother's old seat in the Republic Senate. With so much of the body gone, whether dead in the bombing or having defected to the Tarkinists, Lux, one of the youngest and freshest of the Senate, remains.
Based on his office's décor, or lack thereof, he's still feeling the position out. "You could at least hang something on the walls. A painting. A mural. I don't know, something so that it doesn't look so bleak in here," Ahsoka criticizes as she walks about Lux's office reception room. Matte off-white walls, a wide window, a desk and a few chairs—and nothing else. It's like being aboard a star destroyer. "But I guess if you're too busy to say hi to old friends now and then, you're too busy to get an interior decorator."
"It's not like I've been purposely ignoring you all this time," Lux says, leaning against the wall behind his desk. His face makes it looks as if he's grown a decade in the short time since the battle for Onderon. Youth fading into firmness. A hardness to his eyes. The beginning of lines creasing his forehead. The stress, the responsibility. It gets to them all. And, Ahsoka thinks, this isn't really where Lux belongs. As much as Senator Amidala respected Mina Bonteri, Lux is a fighter, first and foremost. He proved that on Onderon. While he might know his way around politics and negotiation and diplomacy, he's not Padme or Chancellor Organa or any of the others. He's a man of action, not one of words. "I am busy a lot, but…look, the last few times we saw each other—"
"Involved a lot of blaster fire?"
"That too, yes, but between us…" Lux stumbles over his words. Action, not speech.
But Ahsoka knows what he's trying to say, and she looks away with a frown teasing her lips. "Lux, please," she murmurs, trying to sound gentle. "Whatever we were doing or feeling before—"
"It's over. I know. I know," he says, and a wave of relief washes over Ahsoka. Nothing too awkward, then. She'd been worried when the youngling had flagged her down in the Temple and told her Senator Bonteri asked for her at his office. There was a time when maybe she and him…no. No, it's in the past. Don't even think about it.
Instead she nods, solemn. Let go of all that. He's a senator. Treat him like one, with the respect the position deserves, and hope that he sees you only as a Jedi and a friend. "Was there anything specific you wanted to see me for, then? Or just to catch up?"
Lux plants his hands on his desk and looks down, his expression serious. "I need your help."
"Sure. Help I can do. Help with what?"
Lux warms up his desk's holoemitter. "I inherited my mother's senatorial possessions when I arrived here after the Onderon battle," he says. With a grin he adds, "The Senate's not shy about keeping records, at least."
"What'd the data have, embarrassing footage of you as a kid or something?"
"Ah, no. Thankfully."
"You sure? You can show me if that's what it is. I'll only laugh a little," says Ahsoka with a grin. "Okay, that's a lie. I'll laugh a lot. And I'll probably send it to as many people as possible."
Lux chuckles. "Something tells me the Jedi aren't going to be using you as a spy any time soon. But—" his smile fades and his eyes fall as he continues— "it's not anything like that. It was an encoded message beamed directly to my mother's former office on Onderon, and then routed to her Senate channel. Hers, specifically. Not mine. Whoever was sending it, I figured, meant to reach her directly, so either they didn't know what had happened to her…or they had ulterior motives."
"Something tells me this involves the latter."
"And you're right. Watch."
He flicks on the holoemitter. The holographic, shimmering image of a short, furred alien—a Bimm, Ahsoka recognizes after a moment—flickers to life atop Lux's desk. The transmission is in mid-recording when Lux begins it: "—knew your mother well," the Bimm says, his voice stately, steady. A politician's voice. "We served both in the Republic Senate and the Separatist Senate. I called her a colleague. Even a friend. I hope I can at least call you trustworthy, and I hope you can trust me—for both our fates may depend on it."
"Who is this?" says Ahsoka.
Lux shakes his head. "Just watch."
"A month ago, a force of irregulars under no flag and wearing no common uniform attacked Raxus," the Bimm carries on. "Many Separatist senators were killed, many more grievously wounded and forced into retirement. Raxulon was ravaged. After the attack, however, Count Dooku did not attempt to restore confidence in the Senate. In fact, he showed no care for it at all: He has disbanded the Confederate Parliament entirely. He has outright destroyed what representative government we once had and consolidated power among both the Separatist Council—Gunray, Argente, the like—and among he and his Dark Jedi acolytes."
"The Sith," Ahsoka murmurs.
The message plays on: "Some time before this, my homeworld, Bimmisaari, was torched in a worldwide nuclear attack," the Bimm says. "Dooku promised aid, but he never delivered. My people are suffering. And it is not just the people of the Confederacy who ail: In retaliation for the attack on Raxus, Dooku deployed a battle group into Hutt Space and utterly annihilated Nar Shaddaa. Turned the surface of the once-bustling city-moon into glass. Killed billions. I am under no illusions anymore: Dooku has no intention of leading a secessionist movement. He cares little for how we began, fighting to rid ourselves of corruption, to embrace reason and freedom. No, Dooku wants an empire. He fights to conquer. And he will not stop until he has destroyed not only the Republic, but anyone in the Separatist Alliance who so much as voices discontent."
Ahsoka's heart skips a beat as the message finishes: "I am no longer an equal partner in a struggle for democracy, but an imperial subject. This is not why the Confederacy was founded. This is not why we agreed to fight. And the only thing I can do now is rekindle the forge of diplomacy that we once worked but have since abandoned. Tell your Senate and your Chancellor I must speak to them. I, and the remaining members of the Separatist Senate who still know who we are and who are people are, must speak. But we cannot travel out of Confederate territory without raising suspicion. We are being watched. I ask a great deal, but ask I must: Come to Separatist territory. Meet me on Bimmisaari. And if you do, we will talk on how we might put aside our differences once and for all, end our fight, and turn our war against the real enemy."
"It reeks of a trap," Lux says as the message ends. "I've heard vague mentions of an attack on Raxus, but the Separatists have kept a tight lid on it. I do know Bimmisaari was attacked by…someone…but going into Separatist territory when they have all the momentum in the war is suicide."
"Unless he's telling the truth," Ahsoka says.
"Come on, Ahsoka, why would the Separatists negotiate now when they're kicking our asses? I believe the part about Dooku wanting to conquer, because they're blasting their way into the Core one world at a time, but that's about it."
"Lux, try thinking with something other than your trigger finger," says Ahsoka. "That and…eh, never mind. Anyway, the fact that the Separatists' information security is good enough that we've heard little about this Raxus attack means they're suppressing comms somewhere. Easiest place to start would be by cutting their people off from one another. Shutting down Holonet lines, restricting public access terminals…in short, turning their populace into subjects, just like that guy said." She frets. "Do you know who he is, by the way?"
"Bimmisaari's representative in both the Republic Senate and then the Separatist Senate. Okuni Kasi. I didn't know him before, though. I guess my mother did."
Ahsoka taps her finger on Lux's desk, thinking. "Look, trap or not, I can't do anything about this by myself. If this guy really is turning against Dooku—if he's serious about restarting negotiations behind Dooku's back—someone like the Chancellor needs to hear this. It's not like I can just go and attack Dooku right now."
Lux shrugs. "I'd believe it if you did."
"Yeah, maybe," Ahsoka says, her grin returning. "I've got a few scores to settle, anyway."
"I didn't want to ask…" Lux says, his voice trailing off as he eyes Ahsoka's mechanical hand.
"Not Dooku. Grievous. Someone else I'm going to pay back. With interest. I've got a nice little hit list going."
"Is that, uh, in line with the Jedi laws and all that?"
"I dunno. I don't really care if it is or not, no one's going to stop me," Ahsoka growls. Then she looks at the dead holoemitter, thinks better of it, and says, "That being said, this is more than I can investigate alone. Given the secrecy around it and the stakes, it's probably best to keep it out of the Jedi's hands entirely. Let's take this to Senator Amidala."
Lux looks divided: "I thought about taking it to Chancellor Organa. Although I don't know him all that well."
"I don't know Chancellor Organa well enough to say anything either, but I do know he's got to be swamped with work. I spoke to Senator Amidala just yesterday. She'll hear it out," Ahsoka says. "And I can tell—for sure—that she's going to do something about it. She won't just blow this message off."
"You think she'll go to Bimmisaari and try to restart talks?"
"Maybe. Or go and just spring a trap. She won't shy away from either."
"It feels like I'm walking in a sack. Did you have to give me the biggest guy's uniform?"
Tamri sighs and looks back at Kesh. "It wasn't the biggest, and it looks fine. Just tuck it in more at the front."
"Or just wear it like a sack and make sure anyone we run into knows we're intruders," Avea says.
"Can we not do that, please?" Tamri says. They were lucky enough to run into those guards and workers at the sub dock here in the undersea Tath base, and they struck even more luck when Dominion found an access hatch to a maintenance tunnel stretching most of the length of the base's upper facility. It's dusky and cold in this tunnel and the wiring-covered walls seem thin enough that Tamri fears that they'll break at any moment and let in the sea—bad way to die, that, more than a kilometer below the surface where no one can ever come for you—but at least they aren't drawing any attention here. So far all they've seen in this tight, oily-smelling passage are hovering repair drones tending to the various power and fluid systems keeping the installation running.
Another two hundred meters down this passage and they'll reach the base's tram hub, a stubby train connecting the main facility with its satellite hubs deep within the ocean trench just beyond here. "And you're sure this is the right way to go?" Tamri asks Dominion as they walk own the tunnel with only the hissing of tubes and wires and the beeping of maintenance drones to force back the silence.
"As I said when we entered the tunnel, Miss Dallin, I am in their system and monitoring their surveillance as we go. Sem Vigaro is recorded in the employee registry as working at the lower labs within the base's rift stations. We will need to use the tram to access that, short of going out onto the seafloor and walking all the way from here to there."
"Yeah, that I'm not up for," Avea mutters. "You better be right."
"I have a confidence of—"
"Can we just walk in peace and hope we don't have company?" Tamri interrupts. So long as they're alone with the automated drones in the maintenance tunnel, she doesn't care if they have to double back and walk all over the facility. Well, not entirely—time is not on their side, what with Korkie, Neelotas, and Falco still keeping the sub safe. If anyone walks in on them and manages to call for help, they'll all be shooting their way out.
But so far they're safe and sound, and the Tath base is no wiser as to their intrusion. Keep it that way. Find Avea's nephew, get him to spill the details on what Hosha Tath has been up to here, and then get out. Not only does she not want to spend any more time than absolutely necessary so far underwater, but the thought of that odd sonar signal following the sub down here lingers in the back of Tamri's mind. Was it just sharks, as Kesh suggested, or was someone following them to the seabed? And if the latter, who?
Dominion adds to Tamri's anxiety a moment later. He taps a finger to his temple, nods, and says, "A disturbance is agitating the base's comms network. Something on their long-range sonar field is causing a spike in network usage."
"Meaning?" says Avea.
"There is an unexpected anomaly in the ocean that has upset the base personnel and put them into a state of alert. I cannot yet tell if this will be to our advantage or a detriment."
Tamri shrugs and adjusts the sleeve of her co-opted guard uniform. Not quite a good fit. Kesh was right. "It might mean they aren't keeping their eyes open. Buys us more time to get through this place undetected."
"Or it means they ramp up security," Avea says.
"Won't know until we find out."
Avea scoffs. "Real informative. Come on. Let's just keep going. I want to get my nephew out of here and us along with him. I keep getting the feeling that the wall's going to break and we're all going to drown."
"Eh," says Kesh, "you wouldn't drown. The pressure's high enough that we'd be killed much faster than that by any breach. The tunnel would collapse and we'd be crushed."
"What about that was supposed to be comforting?"
Either luck, or the Force, is on their side or whatever is out there in the ocean has the base captivated, because they make it all the way to the tram hub without encountering a single soul. Once they reach the end of the maintenance tunnel, Avea pries off a floor hatch and leans out. Quickly she pulls back into the tunnel and shields the open hatch with her body. "Workers," she whispers. "Two of them down there. I didn't see any guns."
"Let me look," Tamri murmurs, shuffling around her in the cramped confines, leaning down to the hatch, and poking her head out.
The tram hub below is little more than a boxy garage with one end opening into a white light-lit hallway and the other trailing away into a dark tunnel lined with an electrified rail track. Resting between them is a small, two-car tram parked beside a humble boarding area. Near the hallway entrance stand two Echani men in close-fitting white jumpsuits—science personnel or researchers, Tamri guesses. Too lanky for security duties. She could probably threaten them into silence with one flash of her lightsaber.
But better to do things quietly; best if they're in and out of here like ghosts. She waves to her companions in the maintenance tunnel: "We can drop down to the tram station dock and get on board. The door to the front car is open," she hisses. "Just do it quietly."
"What about the workers?" Avea says.
"Let me deal with them. Just move quickly and don't make a sound."
Tamri is the first out. She lowers herself out of the hatch with her arms, dropping down from the ceiling onto the rear tram car and immediately going prone. Silent. Good. She crawls forward towards the two researchers, doing her best to overhear their conversation.
"…sure about that?" one of the researchers says to the other. They speak softly, but Tamri focuses—concentrates and lets the Force flow through her, just like all those old lessons back in the Temple—and she shuts out the world around her until only the Echani voices break the silence. "The supply sub came as usual."
"Yeah, but they never send two subs," the other researcher replies. "We haven't gotten any sort of alert from the hanger, so it's not as if there was anything fishy until that second sub popped up."
"Do you think they're connected?"
"I have no idea. I tried to ask my supervisor, and he just shooed me away, then hurried off with a worried look on his face."
"Well, that's not comforting. No one's getting the defenses up?"
"I don't know. No one wants to talk about it, but everyone's on edge. Whatever that second sub is, it wasn't expected. And from what I gathered it's just holding position out there at the edge of our sonar range. Not moving, not approaching. Just holding."
"Not creepy at all."
"Yeah, you're telling me."
Tamri grits her teeth. So there was someone following them down from the surface. More of the Baron's men? Although they probably would've announced themselves to the base...
She shakes it off. They can't worry about that now. Behind her Kesh slips out of the hatch after Dominion and Avea, dropping down to the forward car and then onto the adjacent platform. She waves for Tamri to hurry.
Just hold on. Tamri recenters her concentration and reaches out to the Force once more. Don't fail me now. She waves her hand at the guards, and suddenly one of them shoots a glance down the hallway. "What the hell was that?"
"You're jumpy, man. Just relax," the other says.
"Says you. Come on. I heard—"
"What?"
"I just heard something. Come on."
"Blazes, now you've got me on edge."
The two researchers tromp off down the hall, and Tamri exhales in relief. She drops to the tram platform and slides inside the well-lit car. "We're good," she says as Avea and Kesh look on. "Time to go."
"So it's that easy?" Kesh says, waving her hand in mimicry of Tamri's mind trick. "Just whoosh and people do what you want?"
"Not that easy, no."
"How do we know you're not doing it to us when we're not paying attention?"
"Kesh, I'm not a madwoman. It's just a trick."
Dominion snaps his finger, and the tram jostles to life, chugging away from the platform and into the dark tunnel. "Just a trick."
"Not exactly the same thing," Avea mutters. "Where is Sem in the rift facility, exactly?"
Dominion brings up a blurry map readout in the palm of his hand. "According to the base's internal schematics, Sem Vigaro is registered as working here," he says, lighting up a sliver of the boxy rift installation in red. "This is labeled as the facility's xenoarchaeology lab. It is near the far tram terminal, but there is no maintenance tunnel I can find to allow us seamless access. We will have to take the main hallways and hope that these stolen uniforms pass visual inspection from any passing employees."
"Xenoarchaeology?" says Avea, raising her eyebrows. "Sem's a life scientist, not an archaeologist."
"I only tell you what I see in their system, Miss Vigaro. You will have to ask your nephew the specifics yourself," replies Dominion.
Any further questions are cut off as the tram lighting abruptly switches from neutral white to sinister red. A moment later the car's intercom sparks to life: "All personnel, take appropriate security measure for a class-two violation. An unauthorized docking has been made at submarine hanger four."
Tamri's heart lurches. Before Dominion can say anything, she slaps her wrist comm and hails Korkie: "Tell me you guys are all right," she says.
"Tamri?" Korkie says over the comm. "We're fine at the sub—no one's bothered us yet—but all the lighting just went red and a security message played. What'd you do?"
"What did we do? What did you do? The message said there was an unauthorized sub docking."
Korkie pauses. "Look, if it was us, I don't know who reported it."
"Let 'em come," Neelotas growls in the background.
"No, just stay down and try to avoid any sort of fight. We're heading into the base's lower facility and it's going to be hard getting back to you if things go to shit," Tamri says quickly. "Just keep an eye on our location."
"Yeah, got it. Don't get yourself killed."
I should be saying that to you, she thinks as she ends the call. Not knowing is the hardest part. Did that second sub reach the base too, or did someone find Korkie and report them?
Dominion offers an answer a moment later. He cocks his head, his eyes staring out into neutral space, then says, "Our vessel is docked at submersible garage number two. Garage four is located across the upper facility on its western edge."
"So we have guests," Avea surmises.
"Quite so. As to who they are…I will monitor security cameras and inform you when I know more, Miss Vigaro."
The tram dips lower as the tunnel descends into the ocean rift. After several minutes of Tamri's nerves firing as thoughts about the intruder muddle, the tram slows to a stop at the rift station's terminal. The car doors open up to an identical hub—same grey walls, same sterile lighting—and Tamri takes a deep breath. Just the four of them here, and no maintenance tunnel to hide in. "Let's hurry," she says as the others file off of the tram. "Dominion—you know where this lab Avea's nephew is in, yes?"
"I will lead the way. Please, follow me," he says with the courtesy of a butler, striding forward as if nothing is amiss and they're not deep underwater in a secure research facility. At least someone's unaffected by the situation.
They don't even make it to the nearest hall before another security warning plays out over the station intercom: "All personnel move to conditions for a class-one security violation. Confirmed hostile intruder has breached station security."
"I am recording gunshots in the upper installation. Camera feeds still show nothing," Dominion adds.
Tamri's gut churns. So much for in and out. Someone else has come down here with ill intentions, and she has the feeling they're not here for the researchers. "Come on. Hurry. We don't have time to linger."
"How are we supposed to even find one guy here?" Kesh says as they head into the tunnel. "You still remember what your nephew looks like, right Avea?"
"Yeah, I'm not an idiot, Kesh."
A procession ahead of them interrupts their chatter. Five workers in identical white and grey uniforms—all Echani—fast-walk through the hallway intersection up ahead, their faces grim. Not a single one throws a glance at Tamri's party. After they pass, Dominion notes, "Research teams are being directed to take shelter in safe zones. The intruder has already cut off a wing of the upper station."
Shit. Keep your eyes open, Korkie. Tamri bites her teeth as they move on. Hurry, hurry. Whoever that is up there, they're far more than a match for the Tath security, by the sound of it. Whatever is going on, at least it's created a disturbance significant enough that no one down here bothers Tamri and her companions. Everyone they pass hurries on their way, mind occupied, feet racing, eyes downcast. It should be a good thing, but the lack of resistance only heightens Tamri's anxiety. Stay calm. Focus.
"Through this entrance," Dominion says as they turn left down a hall and come to a white door with a blue holographic inscription. "Xenoarchaeology department."
Avea's hand twitches towards her holstered blaster pistol. "Come on," she mutters.
"Take a breath. It'll be fine," Tamri says as the doors swing open.
There is no one to meet them. It's an empty reception area—white walls, white desk, Kamino-esque, based on what Tamri has heard of the cloners' aesthetic. A red-tinted holographic security alert looping on a wall-mounted display. A yellow-leafed, human-high fern in a pot beside the desk. Boring, corporate stuff. "No one home?" Kesh mutters.
"Probably got to their safe zones already with the intrusion alarm," Tamri says. "Is the desk's computer console still up?"
"It is," Dominion says. "I will see what I can access."
As the droid unplugs his direct access cable from his wrist and links into the desk's terminal, however, a tall, thin, uniformed figure emerges from a connecting hall and blurts out, "What are you still doing here? I told all team leads to get their employees to their designated safe zones. Why haven't you left? There's a class-one alarm."
Tamri snaps into action and draws her lightsaber. Avea grabs her wrist before she can light it. "No, no!"
"What are you—" the new arrival—a young man, Echani, same white hair and silver eyes, same slim figure and long face—starts before he pauses, eyes flitting between Tamri and her companions. "Wait—you're not…you…"
"Just hang on. Put that away," Avea says quickly to Tamri before turning to the Echani. She freezes, her mouth open as if the words won't come out. Then finally she wets her lips, swallows, and says, "Sem."
The Echani man narrows his eyes and takes a step back. "Aunt Avea?" Avea takes a step forward, but the Echani man—Sem Vigaro, Tamri assumes, the nephew her companion has been hunting for since before they even met on Telos—draws back. "How are you here?" he says, a hint of suspicion slithering into his words. "That security alarm—"
"Sem—"
"Is that your doing, that alarm? How did you get here? Why are you here?"
"I am afraid it is not our doing, Master Vigaro," Dominion interjects. When Avea turns to him with a nasty look, he holds out his palm and a holofeed plays. "I have security footage from the wing where the initial breach occurred."
Tamri's heart sinks the moment the footage begins. A pair of rifle-armed guards opening fire—and a robed, hooded figure wielding a scarlet lightsaber effortlessly knocking back their shots, cutting down the first before wrenching the second into a Force-emboldened choke. "Oh, damn," she mutters.
"A Jedi?" Kesh breathes.
"Not the good kind, I think," Tamri answers.
Sem's eyes widen. "A Jedi?" he says, still holding back from Avea. "Why—leaving aside how or why you're here, Aunt Avea, why is a Jedi down here? This is a Republic facility."
"Republic?" Kesh exclaims. "This is a Tath base. We found proof."
"Lady Hosha Tath. Yes. She's a Republic leader."
Tamri closes her eyes and frowns. It's Concordia all over again, except with extra complications. And that lightsaber-wielding invader is anything to go by, it's about to get much worse. Malicos? Has he somehow tracked her here from Mandalore?
That would be the better scenario she can think of, at least. The alternative—it's not Malicos, and Master Kenobi was telling her the truth about Sae's fall to the Dark Side—will involve a much more unpleasant reunion than the awkward one playing out between Avea and her oblivious nephew. "You don't know, do you?" she says to Sem.
"Know what? I'm sorry, who are you?"
"She's a Jedi Knight. She knows her stuff," Avea says.
"Well, I'm just a Padawan, but—oh, screw it, it doesn't matter—the Republic's split. It's not just one thing anymore, it's in a state of civil war," Tamri says, drawing on Isard's revelation. "Hosha Tath? I don't know what you think of her, but she's an enemy of everything I know and support, and she is most certainly not a leader of any Republic I know."
Sem's eyes dart from Tamri down to the unlit lightsaber in her hand. "I don't believe you," he murmurs. "I've met Lady Hosha. Several times. She was always supportive."
"What are you talking about?" Avea blurts out. "She forced you into this life! She stole you away from me when she took your uncle as well."
"Uncle Bal? Is he here?" Sem says.
"He's dead, thanks to the Taths."
Sem flinches. "I don't know what you're talking about. I volunteered to join the Taths' work program on Eshan. Blazes, Aunt Avea, I'm in charge of three teams here. I like my work and I'm well-paid. I'm not forced into anything."
"Look," Kesh interjects, "clearly you two need to do some catching up, but if there's a Jedi—good, bad, whatever they are—coming at us, we need to get out of here."
"I have teams I need to look after. I can't just forget about them, even if I did want to go with you, which I don't," Sem says.
Tamri points to Dominion. "If that's who I think it is, you can't do anything for them. Cooperate with us and they might make it. Otherwise…"
"Why do you say that?"
"Because I'm getting a funny feeling that the intruder is here for me, and that everyone else here is just collateral damage," Tamri murmurs. "Sem, what was your work down here? What were you doing?"
He swallows and looks to Avea. "I, uh, was leading the research into the artifacts we discovered from the ship that was buried here."
"Ship?"
"A Rakatan dreadnought, entombed in the undersea rift for twenty-five thousand years. Several years ago, some of Lady Hosha's scouts found it on the sea floor, and the Republic Corps of Engineers set up this facility to study it. That was the whole reason I agreed to join," he says, eyes on his aunt. "But it wasn't just the ship down here. On board, trapped in cryostasis throughout the millennia, were—"
"Killiks?" Tamri finishes.
"Um. Yes. How do you know that?"
"We already fought them once. So that Bothan was right, and this is where it all began," Tamri mutters. "Great."
Sem swallows. "What began?"
"You said you're a team lead? Do you have any further data on that ship Hosha found? Schematics, or blueprints, or anything useful?"
"I, uh…I'd have to return to my office, and—"
Dominion taps the desk console and a holographic interface flashes to life. "No need," he says. "I can access your files remotely from here. I need your biometric pass to continue, however. Your handprint will do fine."
"How do you—"
"I am a human replica droid designed to be Yurica Tath's personal assistant. I know your systems far better than you do," Dominion says, smiling.
Sem takes a cautious step forward, then stops. "I shouldn't. It's—"
Tamri opens her mouth to argue, but Dominion is faster. He grabs Sem's wrist, yanks him up to the desk, and slaps his hand on the holo interface. "Your cooperation is appreciated."
Sem backs off, rubbing his arm, and Avea takes him by the shoulder. "Hey, it's fine," she murmurs. "Just come with us, and I'll explain everything."
"Come with you where?"
"Just up topside. To Ahto City. We can go over whatever you like, talk it all out, and if you really do want to stay here, I won't stop you. But at least let me explain things, because you're really, really out of the loop, and you need to know what's what."
As they talk, Tamri looks over the files Dominion brings up. One image stands out: A picture of a forked-prow battleship more than twice the size of a star destroyer. "That looks familiar."
"Hosha's Rakatan battlecruiser. The same ship that attempted to intercept us over Telos," Dominion says. "I have internal schematics and details of the vessel copying now to my internal drive."
"Is that going to help us?"
"I cannot say, Miss Dallin. Not without more time to analyze the data. Time we do not have now."
She frets. "Get what you can."
"Already done."
"That was quick," she says. He only smiles in return. "Avea?"
"We're good," she says, one arm stilled wrapped around her nephew. "Aren't we?"
Sem nods shakily, his eyes drifting back to Tamri's lightsaber. He's not built for this, she thinks. Not the action type. All brains and little more. Little of his aunt in there—but if he's what Avea needs, so be it. And if his work in those files Dominion copied pays off, this trip to Manaan might help the Jedi and the Republic war effort after all, even with all the interruptions. "Back to the tram, then. Let's get moving."
It's a tense and quiet ride back up the tram tunnel to the upper base facility, Avea consoling her nephew and trying to spur him on, Dominion monitoring the security feed. Tamri paces at the front of the car, eyes fixed ahead into the inky tunnel, her heart thumping. She can feel it in the Force, a swirling, a tugging. "Hey," Kesh whispers, moving up beside her and casting a glance over her shoulder at Avea. "Are we gonna be okay?"
"Just keep an eye on them and keep them moving back to the sub," Tamri says. "I don't think Sem's quite in the right place with all this commotion, and Avea's got her hands full."
"What about you?"
Tamri bites her lip. "I don't know."
"Is it that intruder?"
"Maybe. I don't know. I just get the feeling that something bad is about to happen."
The tram slows as it approaches the upper facility's hub, then rolls to a stop at the platform. Tamri's heart races. She ushers the others off of the tram, looks around—nothing. Just keep going. Hurry. As they head to the hallway leading into the upper facility proper, Tamri motions to call Korkie and check in on his group when a loud thud steals away her attention.
Dropping out of the same maintenance tunnel Tamri and the others used earlier, a shadow lands atop the tram. It stands, straightens up—and with a thrumming, a red lightsaber blade flashes to life in their hands.
"Go," Tamri says, drawing her own saber, the green blade erupting. "Go."
"Tamri—" Kesh starts.
"Kesh, I told you, just go. I'll give you some time. Get to the sub and get it warmed up. I'll be back in time."
Kesh nods, her eyes wide, before shouting and leading the others down the hall. Tamri tightens her grip on her saber's hilt, blocking the hallway entrance as the shadow leaps off of the tram to the platform below. Please, Tamri thinks as her heart drums against her chest, don't be Sae. Not here. Not now. I'm not ready for that. I won't ever be.
But it is not Sae. Too short. Movement too forceful; none of the grace and fluidity Tamri always saw in her old master. The shadow steps into the light and lowers their hood, revealing the face of a girl no older than Tamri herself. Platinum hair, messy, shoulder-length. Fire in her green eyes. She aims her lightsaber at Tamri, grins, and says, "Finally."
Tamri stands her ground: "Who are you?"
"Name's Pella," the girl says. "Pella Starseer. It took me forever to track you down all the way here, to the point that I was starting to think that thing on Ziost was wrong. Nice to meet you, Tamri." She laughs. Too high-pitched and youthful for that weapon she's wielding. "I've heard so much about you from Sae."
The air is fouler than anything Sae has ever smelled, but the darkness is inviting. If only she didn't have to breathe in the fetid stench, she could stay here forever. Sit in the crusty dusk and fall against these spit-and-earth walls. Tune out the rest of the galaxy. Turn her eyes to where no sun might ever shine. If only, if only. She's been repeating that line for far too many years.
She almost regrets splitting up with Malicos. Two days ago they docked their ship at the construction yards around Geonosis, slipped out, hijacked an orbital shuttle about to liftoff for the surface, and scurried down planetside. They then went their separate ways—Sae to locate Poggle based on Dooku's information, and Malicos to search for a worthwhile distraction to buy them an escape route once Sae secured the Geonosian leader. But in the quiet dark deep within the tunneling burrows of the Stalgasin Hive, she wants company. She wants someone to throw back the silence and the dark, even someone she hates as much as Malicos, because even hateful noise beats the masochistic thoughts and guilty memories attacking her now.
This place. This awful world. She hates it here. Hates every mote of dirt, every last Geonosian. All she does is hate these days—Geonosis, Malicos, Dooku, the Celestial for showing her a future she loathes, Obi-Wan and his lies about Tamri, even the memories of Tamri that plague her—and it just makes her hate herself. She wants to say this is where it all started. Here, Geonosis, the battle she missed out on while she was away on her Jedi Sentinel duties on one crime-ridden planet or another. The battle that took out a half-dozen of her Jedi friends and left her reeling, the first losses to come in a war that picked away at her ties one by one, until finally these snaking tendrils reached all the way from their roots here to find Adi Gallia and Tamri Dallin and pull them away into that night without end. Having Pella has helped, even if just a little—and now Dooku steals even her away and sends her off on whatever unknown mission the Dark Side demands, leaving Sae without answers as usual—but the hate overrides any sense of goodness. There isn't any good. There probably never was any.
But to admit that, Sae would also have to admit that her problems are far older than this dusty dump of a planet. That those ills began not with a battle, but with her.
A Geonosian clambers up a nearby hole and stares at her down the hive's tunnel, insectoid eyes blinking in the dim light. Sae pats her lightsaber on her belt and the bug scurries away. No need to light the weapon. No need to even draw it anymore. She killed a few Geonosians when she infiltrated the hive yesterday evening, and the rest have shied away from the mere sight of her ever since. Maybe it's fear. Maybe it's Poggle realizing his rescuers have come and spreading word not to interfere. Sae doesn't care. She'd be happier killing Geonosians all the while, if only because it would distract her from her self-cannibalizing mind.
But she is not so lucky.
She closes her eyes. Breathes in, breathes out. Just sit here and die already in the dark. Let the Geonosians bury you in their tunnels and encase you in their hive. Maybe that's the best you can do.
When she opens her eyes, Adi Gallia is looking down at her. "Damn it, not again," Sae mutters, spitting out dust. "Can't you leave me alone, already?"
"I met two very interesting men recently," the Celestial says in Adi Gallia's words, a slight smile trickling across her lips. "I saw the future in them, Sae. A future without you."
"Good, then kill me and go bother them," Sae grumbles.
Master Gallia shakes her head. "You still have a part to play in the present, and until you've played it out, there's no leaving. No exiting the stage until every last line is spoken."
"Go find another actor."
The Celestial presses Master Gallia's finger to her lips. "No more, Sae. No more self-loathing. You've beaten yourself up more than the universe will ever be able to. So quiet now. Come. Follow me and see."
Sae waits. Master Gallia walks to the end of the tunnel before it curves away, then looks back. She smiles. Something lifts inside Sae—a force, an breeze, a balloon, she knows not, but it brings her to her feet and she treads after the Celestial on legs that only loosely feel like her own. Dreamlike, these tunnels. Like sleepwalking through the underworld. Ghosts and spirts in memory form, flitting and twisting just out of Sae's reach. She turns the corner, and down at the end of the next tunnel waits Master Gallia, her hand pressed to the wall, her eyes bright, that same grin played out on her face.
Sae follows.
One tunnel, then the next. She does not know what she is following—a dream, an entity, her own intuition? The Force draws on her, pulls on her emotions this way and that like a wind dragging her out of the doldrums. Her hanger pangs and her exhaustion from lack of sleep wither and slough away, there is only forward, forward. Keep moving forward.
At last the Celestial pauses above a small hole in the floor. It bends down to the hole, looks up at Sae, and smiles. "Shh," Master Gallia whispers, pointing to the hole. "Look and see where the road might lead you, if only you open your eyes and peer out of the dark."
Sae crouches down. Against her grousing doubts she peers through, then immediately looks away—not because she sees anything ghastly, but because she does not bother to look at all. Master Gallia. Sae glances back, but the Celestial's image is gone. It is just her, Sae and the darkness once more. She looks back to the hole, momentarily thinking it to be nothing but a hallucination, the mad-mind visions of a beaten-down traveler who wants nothing more than to sit under a tree and forgo the rest of the journey.
The hole is still there. She is not imagining things. Waving the foul air of the hive away from her nose, Sae lies flat on the ground and peers down through the aperture.
It's a chamber of sorts, almost a throne room in Geonosian style. Twelve Geonosian guards wielding pikes and standing at attention in a double column. A high-backed chair at one end of the room, itself backed by a mound of what Sae can only guess is stylized spit and dung. A particularly sturdy Geonosian sits upon that throne. Poggle the Lesser.
But it is not just the Geonosians in the throne room. Sae scowls when she sees them: Republic. Or breakaway Republic, at least. They're even worse, creatures still claiming to uphold the tenants of the Republic while throwing away Coruscant and the Jedi and everything that made them. Too cowardly to drum up the conviction to declare themselves their own unique state, as the Separatists did, and yet too proud and too arrogant to usurp unassailable power from within, rather than simply staking their claims and running away. The Tarkinists are mad dogs, animals only to be put down. But for now they control this world, and Sae can only look on through the hole in the floor as one of their number—a middle aged man in a crisp grey uniform backed by a quartet of black-armored soldier elites—struts up to Poggle as if this is his throne room, and Poggle the guest.
"It's insufficient, Archduke," the man announces with the voice of a cretin who has never met a true rival, one who fights with words and schemes but not with real weapons, deadly weapons that leave no room for negotiation. Just superiors and inferiors for men like this, people to fear, people to instill fear in. "The pace of your workers falls every day. I promised Tarkin a prototype within a year. That year is rapidly winding down, and I will not go back on my word."
Poggle answers, and Sae hears only his insectoid clicking. She grits her teeth and adjusts her earpiece, finagling with the universal translation switch before Poggle's voice comes to her not in Geonosian, but in Basic: "...provided you exactly what you asked for, Krennic. A labor force. You have already insulted me by shipping hundreds of thousands of alien slaves to my world, and now you demand more from my people? Why do yours not provide?"
The man—Krennic, by Poggle's accusation—scowls at the Geonosian and tosses a pair of steel globes onto the ground. They unfold after bouncing about, stretching out limbs and opening holoprojectors. In a flash of light two more figures stand alongside Krennic in holographic form. Sae recognizes one—the man formerly known as Grand Admiral Wilhuff Tarkin, now Chancellor Tarkin by the titulary of this breakaway bastard Republic. The other she knows not, a lithe, dangerous-looking woman with a wicked grin and long, light hair. Eyes like blank stars set back in their sockets, no pupils or irises. Arkanian.
"Is there a problem, Director Krennic?" Tarkin says, his eyes never leaving Poggle. "I believe I told you in no uncertain terms to use any means necessary to cajole the Geonosians' cooperation. I fail to see the need to contact me for clarification."
"Your slave workers override my own people at every corner," Poggle clicks, jabbing his finger at Tarkin's hologram. "How are they to work when Sluissi and Sullustans and Selkath slaves disregard every Geonosian command and ruin in one day what took my people five to create? You wish for your weapon? Then let my people build it."
"Your people were too slow alone, Poggle. There wouldn't be any need for a supplementary workforce if you actually got your job done on time," the Arkanian woman sneers.
Krennic nods. "I must agree with Lady Hosha. Perhaps it is not the fault of the slave labor, but of the Geonosians," he says. "But of course, if your people cannot hold up their end of the construction…why should any of us bother to keep you around, Poggle? Why should we keep any Geonosians around?"
Poggle slams his scepter to the ground and clicks angrily. "I have directed my people as you have wished, Krennic."
"And they can be directed elsewhere, if need be," Krennic says. "Or perhaps it is simply a problem of leadership. I am sure there are many other Geonosians who would do well by leading your hives, if that is what you call these mud heaps. You are not special, Poggle."
Sae shifts to get a better view. As she moves, however, a clump of dust shuffles off of the edge of the hole and drifts down into the light of the throne room. She grits her teeth, hoping no one notices. Krennic does not. The holograms of Tarkin and the Arkanian, Hosha, do not notice.
But Poggle lifts his head ever so slightly, his eyes trailing upwards. For a moment Sae thinks he sees her. Maybe. Maybe not. But when he answers Krennic after the long pause, his tone shifts from aggressive to conciliatory: "I will address their work ethic, or lack thereof. Keep your slaves in place. I will handle my workers, and your planet-killer will be finished on time," Poggle says.
"You give me your word, but that means precious little," Tarkin says. "The war is intensifying, Archduke. We are running out of time."
Krennic intervenes. "Chancellor Tarkin, if I may," he says. "Perhaps we may allow Poggle another month to prove himself. While work has slowed, it has not stalled. In the meantime, work on the weapon's energy provisioning is also stalling. While we see if Poggle can deliver—or if new leadership is needed—I will go to Christophsis and attend to Galen Erso's work. Perhaps we might solve all of our problems at once. And if, when I return, Poggle has not delivered as promised…" he lets the sentence linger, grinning at the Geonosian.
But Hosha is quicker. "Oh, no, Director," she says, her eyes gleaming even through the hologram, "you're not getting away that quickly."
"I beg your pardon, Lady Tath?"
"The weapon is your responsibility. I know you and Erso have a past. Why don't you stay here with your Geonosian friend? You can share the responsibility. After all, parts of the construction delays are your fault, aren't they?"
Krennic frowns. "I fail to see—"
"I will go to Christophsis. I will find a way to motivate Erso. And then I will do the same to you, if you haven't sped things up," Hosha Tath says, smiling. "If that is suitable by you, Chancellor Tarkin."
"It is," Tarkin agrees. "She is right, Director Krennic. Your own work has been far from satisfactory. See to it that it improves, or perhaps new leadership may be needed across the board. That is all."
His hologram fades, followed quickly by Hosha's. Sae takes that as her cue to leave, backing away from the hole and receding into the tunnels. If nothing else, she has Poggle's location. Rescuing him won't be easy if this Krennic is keeping a close eye on him—especially when the man's job seems to be on the line. And Christophsis. Out of the way planet, but by the sound of it, something big is going on there. Energy generation for a weapon. Weapon, weapon…is that what's going on in orbit? The same superweapon Dooku alluded to?
Before she has a chance to ponder the questions further, her commlink flickers. Looking around to ensure that no nosy Geonosians are listening in, she activates it and whispers, "What?"
Taron Malicos's leering voice laughs from the other side. "Found Poggle yet, sister?"
"I'm not your bloody sister. What do you want? Yes I found Poggle, by the way, but that's only half of what we need."
He whistles. "Look at you, coming through. I almost doubted it. I've found some very interesting things over the past couple days while you've been skulking through insect hives, let me tell you."
"Like what?"
"Like a bunch of slave yards the Tarkinists have on the surface here," he says. "All sorts of off-world aliens crammed into them. Sluissi, Selkath, Vratix from Thyferra…all non-human-dominated worlds the Tarkinists control. Funny, that."
"Yeah, funny. They're using them as labor to build some sort of weapon. Probably what we saw in orbit."
"Oh, I don't care about the whys of things. Can you get to Poggle?"
Sae looks around before answering. "Probably. I can do it alone. Not with you going loud. There're Tarkinist troops in the hive."
"Good luck. I am going to go loud, however. We need a distraction to get Poggle off-world without getting shot to pieces, and I found something fascinating. Did you know the Geonosians have these reanimating, parasitic brain worms that infect people and take control of them?"
Sae scowls at her commlink. "Excuse me?"
"Well, you don't need to know the details. Only that I stole a few of their eggs. And by a few I mean a lot. It'd be a shame of those got loose in the slave yards. And it'd be even more of a shame if the holding yards had their gates unlocked, all at the same time. It'd be even worse if someone opened up the security barracks and guard armories while this all happened."
With a groan, Sae says, "Malicos…"
"Don't worry about it. This is why Dooku's going to prefer me in the end over you. I get things done. You screw around in the dark, carousing with bugs. So go sneak about and get Poggle already, and then hold on to your ass, sister, because it's ripe time for Geonosis to experience a slave revolt first-hand."
"You're going to get thousands of people killed."
"I know. What better of a distraction do we need to get Poggle's chitinous behind off-world?" Malicos laughs. "It's going to be great."
