Anakin stroked his beard, now chest-length, a twinge of gray mixed with the dishwater blonde, deep in though. The silence of the Sith had been suspicious, but now the Teth Council met to ponder the possibilities this daylight assassination entailed. Obi-Wan looked at him with concern in his eyes, Ahsoka's hologram flickering with the same expression on her face. Luminara held his hand. Shaking his head Anakin could only day one thing, "Our worst fears have been realized. Dooku trained Ahsoka's sister to completion. She took for herself an apprentice. I don't know what they could have planned, but if it involves assassinating Senate candidates, it can't mean anything good."

"Do you think," Ahsoka began before trailing off, she had been elected to the Council two years ago after Quinlan Voss passed in his sleep.

"What is it Ahsoka?" Obi-Wan asked, "If you have something to contribute, then by all means."

Taking a deep breath, she continued, "Do you think… it had anything to do with my family? We live on Onderon, we had just come back from Teth a few hours before the assassination happened. It might be possible that Lux was the target."

"We'll send more knights to keep your family safe," Anakin suggested in concern for his former padawan and his godchildren, "unless you feel the need to return to the Complex."

"I'll bring it up with Lux. I'm leaning toward coming back to Teth."

"A crossguard lightsaber," Aayla Fisto muttered, confused about the somewhat conflicting reports, especially given their neutrality in all matters political they did not have the luxury of up-to-date briefings on all things Republic, "Those haven't been used in over two millennia."

"An interesting style choice, I'll agree" Shaak Ti retorted, "but as to how it affects the matter at hand I fail to see."

"Just a passing thought," Aayla replied, "If they're using sabers that are two thousand years old, then maybe… they're using other structures that are two thousand years old."

"Are you suggesting that the Rule of Two could have been abandoned?" Kit asked his wife.

"Well there have been more than two for years now. Palpatine and his terrorist cell are still at large, and he doubtless has an apprentice by now. Gràinne and her new student. That's at least four. "

"Two pairs of rivals," Ahsoka interjected, "They'd never work together. Especially since Gràinne was the one who brought Palpatine to ruin, he'll never agree to work with her."

"And we'll hope that's all there is," Anakin stood to declare this, shutting down the topic immediately. His tone commanded the room and his body language demanded obedience, but his eyes betrayed him. Fear dominated his thoughts of such a nightmare scenario. Especially since the Sith would not see a difference in Reformed and Orthodox Jedi.

"Anakin, we should at least prepare for the worst, to keep our families safe," Obi-Wan chided, "I know your war trauma makes you want to not even consider the possibility of picking up your lightsaber again. We all have that trauma and we all want to live out the rest of our days in peace. But with this recent development, that may not be possible."

Kit cleared his throat, "Especially with this recent development." He projected the headline he had read that morning, Jedi Order Forms Political Party on Coruscant. "It seems Windu is starting to move against us and is attempting to drag the Republic into a potential conflict."

Anakin fell to his seat, shaking. "No… not now. Not after we've built so much…"

Serpeness nodded at Poblithes's report, "A single rat in a refuse pit is no great loss," she responded at the news of the candidate's death. "However the Jedi's move is quite interesting. I'll have to contact my agents on Coruscant to enact their phase of the Plan a tad early."

"Yes, Empress," the kneeling Jawa replied, "I am on my way back to Talamh as we speak."

"Good. The fleet will be prepared to launch in a week. I'll expect you will be ready."

"I have been ready for years, Master."

"Excellent, good work Darth Iustitia" she replied. Closing the call she replaced her helmet upon her head, her armor now Baskar plate atop Cortosis chainmail; collected from her debt owed by Mandalore in lieu of a quiet alliance, Duchess Bo Katan had had quite enough dealings with the Sith of old, they were provided with a modest quantity of Baskar armor to protect their members. She and the Dark Council retained entire suits of Baskar while the Lords retained only cuirasses, breath masks, and pauldrons. Her gauntlets included durasteel claws and her mask a filter to protect her from toxic gases and bioweapons, such horrific tools were employed by the Jedi in the past, and she would do anything, pay any price, to protect her people from them now. Glinting in the light as she stepped onto the parapet, she looked over the shoulder of one of her Council, holding her own helmet under her arm and exposing her face to the sun and her troops, overseeing the drills of Sith warriors and their non-Force sensitive soldiers. A red Twi'lek by the name of Vette, but her title was "Darth Desolata."

"Empress Serpeness," Desolata replied, genuflecting before her monarch and instructor. Formerly an orphan sold into slavery to a junk trader for drinking money, Gràinne had found her having to prostitute herself to survive on the streets of Nar Shaddaa. She was a few years her Empress's junior, only having turned 29 a few days ago, she was fanatically loyal to Serpeness's cause and a skilled warrior and Force-user. As such she quickly rose through the ranks to become a member of the Dark Council. She wanted to make sure what happened to her never happened to another little girl again. Not while she still lived.

"How goes the drills?"

"Better than you had expected milady, we will be ready for war at your signal."

"Good. We launch our invasion Monday at dawn. I will have my agents in Coruscant hunt the heretic Palpatine and I will attend to a possible alliance."

"An alliance milady?"

"A planet named Zygeria, are you familiar with it?"

At that name, Desolata stood, "Empress, if I may be so bold, the Zygerians were the ones who sold me into slavery. I beg you please don't ally with them."

"What?" Serpeness questioned in shock. The Zygerians were slavers, and they dared to request an alliance with her? Steeling her jaw and grimacing under her mask, Serpeness declared, "Change of plans. We won't go straight for Coruscant, we'll demonstrate our message to the galaxy. Inform the Dark Council, our war plans change. Prepare for an assault on Zygeria.

Smiling in glee and a vengeful glint in her eye, Desolata replied, "At haste, Your Majesty."

"Also, I want you to lead Legion Vitiate at the spearhead of the invasion. This planet's conquest is personal for you. Succeed and you'll be the governor of its sector." Vitiate, composed primarily of Mongol warriors headed by a squadron of nine Sith acolytes or apprentices and a Lord, Lady, or Darth as the commander. Serpeness herself was of course, being the Empress, the supreme commander of all Legions: Vitiate, Nihilus, Revan, Venomous, Tenebrous, Bane, Andeddu, Tyrannus, and her own personal Legion, Plagueis, among others. "I'll see to it the fleet is prepared."

Leaving Desolata to her command, Serpeness patrolled the Academy's outer wall, contacting her Admiral. "Admiral, the fleet is to move out in six days, will you be prepared by then?"

"Anything for ye a chuisle," Séamus replied, his snappy, and tight, uniform which his wife may or may not have personally designed serving as armor with Cortosis weave. His helmet an exact replica of his old one except forged of durasteel instead of simple carbon steel.

Gràinne's montrals darkened but was thankfully hidden by her helmet, however her involuntary giggle was not. "Darlin' I thought I told ye to talk professional-like when I wear the helmet."

"I know," Séamus replied with a wink. She wore the helmet during their, private moments semi-often, "And aye, the fleet is ready. Just a few more shipments o' food and we'll be good to go."

"Good."

"I love you."

"I love you too."

"B'fhearr liom tú go céad bó bainne."

"Agus b'fhearr liom tú os cionn céad saol."

Closing the call before the officers and Darth behind her husband snickered any more than they already were. She knew she was a softie for her hubby and baby girl, but nobody else had to know. The Imperial Fleet had been constructed from metals predominantly mined on the planet itself, in addition to droids sent to the asteroid belt and other planets and moons in the system. In only twenty years Talamh had advanced 10,000, and this fact would never cease to amaze her. Serfdom being replaced by droids, the construction of fleets of starships capable of interstellar invasions, Sith Academies teaching five thousand Dark Side practitioners to harness their gifts for the benefit of others. She took a deep breath of the highland air, and watched the trainees sparring or deflecting remote blaster bolts down below.

Leia was helping Owen learn his lightsaber forms while Luminara supervised, sipping her warm tea and petting Leia's cat, Cocaine. Leia activated her blue saber while Owen ignited his yellow. "Ok Owen, so today we'll focus on Soresu. You think you can handle that?"

"Let's go!" the youngling replied. He was skinny, in the extreme, and his skin appeared like that of a typical white human save for a slight green tint and a few black diamond tattoos on his cheeks that revealed his mother's species. His brilliant blue eyes and jet-black hair shone with excitement to practice using his lightsaber with his oldest sister. He always looked up to her and wanted to emulate her as best as he could.

"Ok. I'll set the remotes to a warm-up setting first, to get us loosened up." Punching in the settings she got into a Form III stance, checking to make sure her brother's form was ok. Then the shots started coming. Leia deflected them easily, at this setting she had once literally done it in her sleep when Luke and Shmi tried to prank her. Owen however was struggling. He still managed to block most bolts; his movements were a lot slower than hers, more delayed. When they went up one more setting, the boy was getting shot constantly.

"Are you ok?" Leia asked concerned.

Frustrated he said, "I know when and where the Force tells me to block, my stupid brain and arms won't do it fast enough!"

"Take a break for a few minutes. We'll try again later." Leia reassured him. He was training in the Sentinel school of thought due to being less reliant of physical combat, preferring to use their gifts with computers to gather intelligence or hack into systems, but he still needed to learn to use his blade. His would be a long, difficult road. Looking at her step-mother she quietly said, "I don't know if he can do it, Mom. He doesn't have the motor skills."

"He's been doing better. He just needs more work than a typical youngling," Luminara reassured her. "Just be patient."