Time seems to march onward, and we are drawing to the very edge of the end of RoDV, and preemptively I wish to thank all of those who've gone the distance of this second leg of the journey. Things have gotten far more interesting in this story, and I hope to keep that up as we enter into the third story of the trilogy, whose title I am considering changing. In fact, point of discussion, I would request title suggestions for the entire third story of the Veneficus arc, and while I cannot guarantee that I will use any of them, they might work their way into chapter titles possibly, or else inspire the final decided title of the story. with that said, enjoy! ~F

Chapter Sixty One

The Black Tide

"Ah, Director Granger, what can we do for you?" Lord Berethon said from his seat, looking all prim and proper in formal Jedi attire, splendidly decked in green to indicate his world of origin. The others on the Council seemed to relax when the realized who had come to visit them, but there was a clear aura of agitation and worry in the air around them, and Heroine empathized with the troubles that these esteemed beings were going through already.

"Greetings, Lord Berethon, and the rest of the Jedi Council." Hermione replied respectfully, bowing at the waist slightly, "I have come to declare my desire to leave Coruscant, in wake of our fleets destruction and the likelihood of the Emperor's course straight to us."

Whatever they had expected her to say, this was not it. Before any of the body could respond, she pressed onward, "I was hoping to see what aid I could lend the Jedi Order during our evacuation. If there are any Jedi, or people you are protecting, that you want safely removed from the planet, I will gladly take them with us. I also would like advise on where we might flee to, in order to rebuild another station to continue the fight against Veneficus and his Empire…"

Looking around at the twelve faces of the various Jedi Masters, Hermione found herself the subject of much scrutiny, and in some cases outright gratitude. "Director," Lord Berethon started, looking far more relieved than Hermione had ever recalled seeing the grizzly old Jedi, "You have just lifted a great weight from our shoulders, in your offer of assistance. Yes, there are a great deal of Padawans and Initiate Jedi we would love nothing more than to send with your people, and, if it pleases the rest of the Council, I know a perfectly remote location that you could set up your resistance."

"Director," Grandmaster Coven said, causing Hermione to turn and look into the blind eyes of the great Jedi leader, which glistened with tears of gratitude, "If you will accept all these that we wish to protect from the coming disaster, we would be eternally in your debt."

"No," Hermione said, "It is I who am working to repay my debt to you, for sending Luna Lovegood to awaken my to the manipulation that I was under. I will do whatsoever I can to help the Jedi, now and forevermore. And if it means smuggling out the entire Temple, brick by brick, I will do it."

"Masters," Lord Berethon said, taking attention back to him once more as the man stood, "I will gladly take the opportunity that we have long desired and see to the preparation and evacuations of all those we wish to protect."

"Yes, do so, Lord Berethon," another Master said, dismissing the man as well as Hermione and her escort.

"May the Force be with you, Director," Master Coven said, looking suddenly very small and frail in her large Council chair.

"And with you as well, Grandmaster, and the rest of the Council," Hermione responded, deeply touched with the amount of sudden trust that the Jedi placed with her. Times must have been truly desperate if they asked no questions regarding her request to aid them, and took it with all the faith that they possessed.

"You must be wondering why we accepted so readily," Lord Berethon said as he walked with Hermione and Severus back to the lift.

Hermione could only nod, surprised that he so easily read her thoughts.

"The Grandmaster had a vision, of her beloved Padawan, Commander Lovegood, falling into a dark abyss, shortly before we received word from Jedi Master Yoda of the fate of the battle, as well as the fact that the Emperor is setting course directly for Coruscant, rather than continuing his slow path of devastation. There is little time, and we know from our history that the Sith will spare no one who calls themselves a Jedi, be they adult or child."

Hermione understood that all too well. It was as though Harry had turned into a larger scaled version of Voldemort, terrorizing an entire Galaxy of people to spite the beliefs of a few.

"What isn't readily know by the general public is that this war has taxed our resources greatly," Lord Berethon continued, "We lack the ships required to get our young ones to safety, and even if they had somewhere to go, it would only be a matter of time before the Sith chased them to every academy and temple throughout the Galaxy in order to slay them."

"And so you want me to take them somewhere that is off the records, as it doesn't exist yet," Hermione concluded, understanding now in perfection what the Jedi wanted of her. To save their Order from extinction.

"Yes," Lord Berethon affirmed, seeming to know what she was feeling from the grandfatherly look in his eyes. "I only regret that we cannot join you in safeguarding the Order…"

Hermione turned, aghast that not even the old Corellian would be joining her. "We cannot flee, or else the Emperor will sense some sort of trick, and be even more vigilant to locate the remaining Jedi," the Green Jedi Lord explained, although it did little to appease the sadness in Hermione heart.

"Do not mourn for us, dear child," Berethon said, turning to face Hermione fully, "We are not dead yet, and even still, as we go out to blind the Emperor of our plan, we cannot truly die. We will return to the Force, from which all life springs forth, and we will watch over the Galaxy, in the small acts of goodness that wonderful people like you perform without even a thought of reward."

Hermione felt the bitterness of losing her friends and comrades in arms soften somewhat, mixing with a sweetness of the truth of their words, and she embraced the grizzled old Jedi, who somewhat reminded her of old Alastor Moody, but far more approachable.

"Now then," Lord Berethon said, returning to business, "We have hundreds, if not thousands, of younglings and padawans that needs to be evacuated as quickly as possible…"

Even as the man spoke, listing off all the materials and people that needed to be rescued, Hermione was typing away at her datapad, her mind rapidly focusing back to a razor sharp precision. He had a mission now. If she could not destroy the Empire, she would steal away their victory, and save all those whom Veneficus would oppress and destroy.

They were just passing back to where her shuttle ought to be waiting, and Hermione smiled as the doors opened, and Lord Berethon paused in surprise as a host of Mage-tech droids snapped to attention, waiting at the ramps of a dozen shuttles, all empty and waiting for passagers and cargo.

"It seems that you are ever full of surprises, dear Director…" the Jedi Lord stated.

"There are two dozen more shuttles waiting for landing space," Hermione stated, "I suggest you gather your people and load them as quickly as possible, if time is of the essence."

"I whole-heartedly agree," Berethon said with a smile as warm as a Coruscanti sun, before pulling out his comlink and hastily speaking with someone on the other end.

Within several minutes, young Jedi, mere teenage boys and girls of a myriad of species appeared, guiding even younger children, some still in bedclothes and sleepy-eyed, toward the hangar doors, urged onward by the Jedi Lord and directed into the waiting shuttles. Very few adults joined them, mainly teachers and a handful of knights from what Hermione could tell, some carrying large boxes of unknown objects.

"Sacred Jedi relics," Lord Berethon explained when he saw her watching these, "things that we simply cannot allow to fall into the Sith's hands, even if we must leave much to keep the disguise of authenticity."

Hermione was settled in her curiosity, and watched as shuttles came and left, carrying as many Jedi children as they could bear back to the fleet of ships that awaited her arrival to depart.

Lord Berethon typed something into a datapad that a Jedi handed to him, then turned back to Hermione, "I must leave you now, but these are the coordinates for the Planet Hoth. It is an arctic wasteland, with the remnants of Jedi ruins somewhere buried under the ice. It was a battlefield for both the Jedi and Sith in ages past, so I doubt that the Empire will go there looking for anything. I trust you to make sure they are safe." He added, looking at the forms of the many young Jedi. "I will leave you as many of my Green Jedi Knights as I can spare, for your continued protection, but I fear that this might be the last time that we see each other."

Hermione felt the sadness well up in her again, but she was in control of herself this time, and accepted the datapad with the location of the safe haven upon it, "May the Force be with you, Lord Berethon," she said, "make Veneficus pay with blood for coming here."

"Vengeance is not the Jedi way," he countered, softly chastising her desire, "But yes, we will fight to the very last to keep him from our home, although we feel it in our bones that the end is near. May the Force be with you as well."

Even as Lord Berethon left, Hermione felt a great weight return to her shoulders, and she looked around, confused and uncertain what she ought to be doing. "Director Granger?" a voice said nearby, and Hermione turned to see a small female Bothan, her robes bearing the marks of a Jedi Padawn, "I am Padwan Ist, and have been assigned by Master Coven to assist you in managing the Jedi in your care."

"I am most grateful for the consideration from the Grandmaster," Hermione said, relieved that she had someone who'd know what they all needed.

Together with the help of the young Jedi, Hermione quickly fell into stride with making sure that all essential items, and people, were efficiently loaded comfortably into each of the shuttles as they arrived, this process seeming to go on for several hours. By the time the last pair of Jedi Initiates, along with a handful of very young Knights and several matrons from the Healers Corps boarded, Hermione wasn't sure if there'd be any more shuttles at all for them to board.

But she was surprised to find that, when the human pilot of the last shuttle waved as he was clear for takeoff that she had run out of personal shuttles long ago, and that her employees, understanding the great need that she had done to do, performing a service for the Jedi who had protected their worlds for so long, had rallied to help, bringing what meager vessels they could to spirit away the youth of the Jedi Order safely.

Even as the last ship arrived, for Hermione, Ist, Severus and her guard of Green Jedi, the dusky sky of Coruscant was starting to glow with the skylights and nighttime operations of the city planet.

"There were far more than I had even realized," Hermione stated as she partially collapsed into the passenger seat behind the pilot of the last shuttle, even as the others filed in and the ship started to take them back to Magi-Tech.

Even as they started away from the Temple, Hermione started to relax, knowing that they job was partially finished. Once they rendezvoused with the others back at her facility, they would spread the coordinates of their location throughout the fleet of shuttles and be underway as quickly as they could.

As they headed toward the Works, Hermione noticed that something was off. The darkened sky of Coruscant was growing brighter. "What in the…" she said, craning her neck to find the source of the light, and widened her eyes as she spotted the massive wormhole open up as a downright monstrous ship came out of Hyperspace, far closer to the planet that it ought to.

Ist suddenly gasped aloud, "He's here!" she said, and Hermione needn't guess whom the Padawan was referring to.

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Anguis watched from his private offices as the titanic vessel emerged from Hyperspace, the pride and joy of the Imperial Navy, guns poised and ready to fire at anything that dared come against it, and he knew that it was time to put his plan into motion. Pressing a secret button under his desk, the droids who guarded him went on full alert, and signals went out to all those who he had previously selected to join him in his resistance movement.

Calling forth his lightsaber from its hidden location, Anguis started to prepare himself to depart, leaving all the nonessential items of office and state behind. He would be Chancellor no more, once Veneficus landed upon this world, and he needed to escape before the Sith Lord found him.

"My, my… leaving so soon, Chancellor?" said a voice behind him, and Anguis turned, surprised that he hadn't sensed anything in the Force.

A cloaked figure stood there, garbed in black and carrying an aura of menace, but not nearly as strong as the Sith Master. "So the Emperor sends his assassin's at long last," Anguis challenged, knowing that this pathetic Adept wanting nothing more than to bring fear to the Republic by killing their leader, and had little to no idea that Anguis was in fact, one of the more powerful users of the Dark Side.

"Perhaps it is that," the figure said, starting to slowly pace, and Anguis' finger twitched to the comlink at his waist, that would trigger the droids to go into full attack mode and kill the intruder. It would be the perfect distraction. "Or perhaps," the figure said, throwing back his hood and revealing the red skinned face of a Devaronian, "Lord Veneficus is merely sick and tired of you playing both sides, Anguis…"

Knowing that if this assassin knew that much of him meant that Anguis was in true peril, his finger slammed down on the button to activate the droids, even as he drew his saber, the familiar grip sending waves of warmth through his hands. How long had it been since he had the privilege of a live opponent. Too many years of politics had had their effect on him, no doubt, but his connection to the Force was always his strength.

The crimson beam shot into the darkness of his office as the lights died with the emergency signal going out, even to the Jedi Temple, that the Chancellor was under attack. The invader leapt upward, a double bladed saber igniting as he layed into the Magi-tech droids that opened fire upon him, even as Anguis moved to a clear location, parting with some of the less than practical ornamental robes of Chancellorship. Luckily he had been prepared, and wore a tactical combat suit under the robes, which had become a recent addition to his wardrobe since the Empire started their attack on the Core itself.

The explosion and clatter of his security droids were not welcomed sounds, but Anguis had expected no less from someone that Veneficus had actually bothered to inform of the Chancellor's Force sensitive status. That alone meant that the opponent sent here was indeed meant to kill him, and Anguis would be pushed to his limits if he was to survive this challenge.

The Devaronian appeared again, having cast aside his outer robe, and brandishing his double weapon with a flourish, but long hours of silent meditation had taught Anguis the power of patience, allowing his own anger and hatred to build up while his opponents sought to draw him out early.

The other seemed to realize that the Chancellor would not make the first move, and charged, the double bladed weapon spinning like a circular blade of death as he advanced. Drawing the Force to him in waves, Anguis dived to the side, rolling out of the way as the Devaronian tried to cut him horizontally with the massive weapon, coming up again in the downward guard of Niman, the style of those who use the Force heavily in their combat, even as he felt the power of the Dark Side surging through him.

He was now ready. Eyes burning with hatred for his old Master, Anguis struck. Diving in as the massive double weapon came swinging at him again, the Chancellor of the Republic stabbed, trying to end the battle before it had the chance to fully erupt, but the overlarge weapon spun effortlessly, its back blade catching and parrying his stab, even as Anguis spun, bringing his weapon to block the counter attack from the lead blade of his enemy.

What his opponent did not expect, was that Anguis was prepared for the counterattack from the second blade. Even as the assassin spun to try and push off his blade and bring his weapon fully to bear against Anguis, the Chancellor extended a hand, releasing a powerfully pent up explosion of telekinetic energy, throwing the other combatant backward.

Even as the Devaronian flew backwards, he spun midair and hurled the massive double-bladed weapon back at Anguis, the whirling blades of deadly energy making a whining sound as it sliced through the air. Swinging his blade upward with two hands, Anguis knocked the weapon off course for his neck, even as he pirouetted in place, before unleashing a blast of lightning at the Devaronian, who was charging at Anguis, even as he recalled his weapon to his hand.

Anguis knew that he could not allow this assailant to engage him in lightsaber combat, as it was apparent that the Devaronian was far more adept at it than he was. Pulling together all his power, Anguis smirked as he started to back out of the office, toward the safe vault that he held in the Senate building that could prove to tip the scale in his favor against this attacker.

Far younger this Dark Adept maybe, but Anguis was the closest thing that Veneficus had ever had to a true apprentice, and this boy would learn quickly the true power of the Dark Side, Anguis thought darkly, although he couldn't quite shake the feeling that he recognized the particular style that the Devaronian was using in his saber combat, but he couldn't quite place it in the midst of the fight.

Leading the Adept away from the main office and toward Anguis' private rooms was more than simple, meanwhile using the Force repeatedly in the form of lightning and telekinesis to prevent him from charging into melee range while the Chancellor fumbled for the controls of the door to his private chamber.

Once he withdrew inside, the comfort of his private collection, in a chamber which prevented the Force from penetrating the walls, Anguis truly relaxed. Short of his secret lab and residence in the Works, this place was where he was strongest.

Sheathing his saber, Anguis gathered all the energy he could, pulling from the many trinkets and artifacts he had gathered over the years, and energy sparked between his hands as the door was pierced by the crimson saber of his attacker.

Anguis waited for the Devaronian to come to him. He was more than ready for him now.

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Grandmaster Coven could sense her enemy in orbit over the planet, and she could only breathe a sigh of relief that their innocent Younglings, initiates and a great many Padawans had only just managed to escape to the Magi-tech shuttle fleet that was planning to escape the Republic altogether. There they would flourish, and a new generation of Jedi would rise to combat this darkness, and whatever else may come in the future.

Master Yoda, and many more of their Knights and Master, all remnants of the force that had been sent to Brentaal, had returned, and some, including the goblin Jedi Master, had been sent to guide and protect their young Jedi, while many more had remained, all knowing that those who remained were likely to die in the defense of Coruscant, but more than willing to give their lives to protect others, and give the Jedi one last chance to defeat the Sith Lord before he seized the Galaxy for himself.

High in the Council Chamber, Fae and the rest of the Jedi High Council stood in muted meditation, waiting for the Empire's forces to begin their attack. The oppression of the Dark Side of the Force was everywhere, stemming from the Emperor entombed somewhere in the massive machine, and the Jedi Temple alone stood as a beacon of light against the tide of darkness.

Picturing the waves of Force energy flowing from all those around her, Master Coven knew that the time was very soon that battle would commence. The Emperor would come himself, she was sure of this, and she would eventually face off with his a second time. But until that moment, she would channel all her energy into preserving those under her care.

Sitting in her large Council chair, Master Coven breathed deeply as she sank into the flows of the Force, willing herself to exercise the proper technique of Battle Meditation, allowing her consciousness to flow over the Temple walls and into the hearts of every Jedi and Republic soldier, mercenary and freedom fighter that had gathered to the sacred edifice, preparing to face off in the last stand against the Sith.

"Activate the Temple's shields," she said, and one of the other masters went to the nearby consoles and did so, encasing the Temple in a bright golden barrier, specifically supplied by Director Granger some time ago, in light of the infiltrations of the Temple.

"Shuttles are launching from the ship, as well as a horde of fighters and bombers… they… they're targeting the city at random…" Master Dolik said, the male Rodian sounding both appalled and disturbed by the tactics of their enemy.

Fae could feel it, the fear and the pain sweeping the Captial, even as the Imperial forces passed over the Temple complex and the Council Chamber shook from the blast of their bombs against the shields. "Small mercy that Director Granger gave us these shields," Master Antross stated, "but I doubt it will keep them out for long, not with their shuttles already landing at the base of the temple."

"We must see to our defenses," Fae declared, knowing that every one of the Masters had their assignments already, and would take command of the various Jedi that were nearest for the defense of their home.

"May the Force be with us as we fight this potential last battle." Master Cater stated, even as the twelve leaders of the Jedi High Council descended from their chambers to face off against the forces of the Sith.

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Zhar stepped from the shuttle to breath the cool night air of Coruscant. The Temple grounds felt much the same as they had always been, mixed pleasantly with the fear and hatred gripping the city from their attack. The High Prophet had been given the direct honor of accompanying Emperor Veneficus' direct assault of the Jedi Temple, along with scores of fellow Dark Adepts. Looking around at the masses of gathered Force wielders, Zhar spotted several other members of the Dark Council, and realize that the Sith Lord had pulled all available minions for this final confrontation with their ancient enemy.

Soon enough, a flare from the Force caused them all to glance upward as another small fleet of shuttles came down, escorting the elegant and ornate shuttlecraft of the Emperor. Zhar smirked as he realized that even now, at the endgame, Veneficus was doing everything he could to make sure it was a spectacle for his people, as well as his enemies.

From the surrounding shuttles, the black robed and armored Arcanamach appeared, flowing around the Emperor's shuttle like a tide of angry insects waiting for their queen to appear. Veneficus did not keep them waiting long, appearing in robes bedecked with gold and crimson, looking very ornate and pompous in his commanding aura of hatred. In his hand was the scepter of Ragnos, crackling with dark energy as he walked, the lamp-like eyes of the Sith Lord focused with a deadly gleam upon the home of his hated foes.

"The time has come," he announced, his voice magnified so that it echoed harshly across the grounds for all to hear, "for this stain on the Galaxy known as the Jedi to be wiped away, with fire and with death. The right to rule the Galaxy is given to those of the Dark Side, and I will tolerate this challenge of an edifice to be in the hands of my enemies no more! Attack!"

Veneficus quickly swung the scepter to point at the shielded temple, and a devastatingly large beam of green energy rocketed out of the top of the scepter. Zhar had to shield his eyes from the light it gave off, even as the ground rumbled and a massive explosion filled his ears, and the shield around the Jedi Temple collapsed from an energy overload.

"For the Empire! Long Live the Eternal Emperor!" various parties of the horde of Dark Adepts shouted, and as one they charged the edifice, mounting the stairs toward the front doors of the temple as quickly as they could. The Arcanamch, which seemed to have been fully assembled in their might, formed ranks and marched forward after the swell of charging Adepts, a flowing black tide that progressed slowly toward the top of the stairs.

Zhar hung back with his apprentice, mingling with the others of the Dark Council as Veneficus led the way behind his army, taking his time on the steps and seeming to savor every moment he was here on the planet of his hated foes.

From far ahead, Zhar could already hear the clash of lightsabers as their force cashed upon the defenders of the Temple, and momentarily the former Jedi wondered who he might have the opportunity to cross blades with. Many of the old Jedi Masters still lived, and their skills were well known to Zhar.

But Veneficus seemed to have little to no interest in arriving at the Temple doors themselves until he was full ready, so Zhar spent the time gathering his energy, preparing for whatever they might find ahead of them.

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Diábolis snarled as he slowly cut his way into the Chancellor's private rooms. Such an irritating task that he was set on the eve of their triumph over the Jedi, and here he was killing a traitor. Nevertheless, he would obey Veneficus until the time was right for the older man to fall to Diábolis' blade.

The metal that the door was made of was rather strange as well, making the Devaronian's task all the more difficult. Some sort of alloy that was most certainly not Durasteel, and it felt significantly harder than it appeared, as though it were resisting his weapon altogether.

Mage-born, he remembered. Veneficus had given him all the information on this Lord Anguis and his abilities, he strengths and his weaknesses, although even the Sith Lord admitted that it had been years since the two had met in person, and many things could have changed.

The fact that the man fled from battle was something that Diábolis heavily suspected. The Dark Adept was clearly not a fool, to be able to hide in plain sight of the Republic and the Jedi, therefore what lay beyond the door had to be some sort of trap.

Therefore, after several more agonizing moments of cutting the perimeter of the door free of the wall, instead of simply allowing to fall out of his way, Diábolis channeled his hatred for this task, and blasted the slab of metal inward, hoping that if the fool was standing right behind it he would be crushed under its weight.

Sadly, it was not the case, as the door was knocked heavily off course by a second attack of the Force, which was warning enough for Diábolis to raise his weapon defensively. A storm of lightning poured out of the shrouded doorway, attracted and absorbed by the blade of his saber.

Still, now with the door missing, Diábolis could sense the horrifically strong power of the Dark Side within the chamber, and knew exactly why Anguis had retreated there. His power would be significantly boosted surrounded by so many objects, but the foolish thing was that the Darksider clearly forgot that Diábolis too would be strengthened by the presence of the Dark Side. And little did this Anguis know, but Diábolis being a true Sith Lord, he had knowledge of ways to manipulate and use such energy to his advantage beyond what the Chancellor could have discovered on his own.

Pushing against the tide of lightning that was pouring from the chamber was a struggle, but Diábolis would not fail his Master's grand design, and for the Republic to fall the Chancellor must die, even if it was a man that the Sith Lord himself had placed into power.

Reaching the threshold of the room, the Sith Apprentice could start to see and feel the power of the artifacts and trinkets, and drew heavily upon them, muttering Sith incantations under his breath as he pushed outward, using the shadows to create a shield of Force energy to throw the lightning off his blade and free him to charge into the room fully.

Anguis had already shed his Chancellor's apparel completely, revealing a black combat suit. The man had his saber in hand, the other retracting as he ceased his barrage of lightning. "I suppose you are to be congratulated for surviving this long. But the game ends here, boy…" the man stated flatly, his crimson blade igniting purposely. "I cannot allow you to prevent me leaving the failing Republic, nor beginning the rebellion that will topple Veneficus once and for all. The Galaxy will be mine, not your Master's nor any of his other precious Adepts. I am the most powerful, the closest thing he had to an apprentice…"

Diábolis laughed, loud and cold, stopping the man in his rambling. "You believe that a Sith Lord like Lord Veneficus did not choose and train an apprentice?" he said, still laughing.

"How could he have?" Anguis stated proudly, as though he was so confident, "I was his first, and the strongest. I possess the power of both the Cosmic and the Wild Force, who could possibly be stronger than I?"

"Well then, that's all said and done then, isn't it?" Diábolis replied snidely, "But then… my Master had specifically mentioned how prideful you were that you alone were worthy to be his student."

Anguis stiffened, seeming to sense what Diábolis was heavily implying, but the Devaronian didn't stop there. "Yes, if not for how useful you were in weakening the Republic, Master Veneficus would have disposed of you long before now…"

"Liar!" the man roared, the shockwaves of his voice magnified by the Force to rupture metal and stone around the room. Diábolis prepared himself, knowing that the beast had been turned loose, and he was rewarded for his caution. Anguis had sped forward with lightning speed, raining a flurry of blows down on the Sith Apprentice, which only the use of his twinblade was able to withstand.

Spinning as he circled the room, still gathering energy from the various trinkets that littered the walls, Diábolis kept up a spinning bulwark of blades, deflecting and knocking away dozens of strikes that the Chancellor threw at him, knowing that he must act soon or the older human would realize what he was up to.

What he was not ready for was for Anguis to immediately back off and raised both hands, throwing a massive amount of pent up Force energy as a telekinetic wave. Staggering back, Diábolis only retained his footing barely, and lashed back with Sith Lightning himself, which the Chancellor countered and started their battle of wills, to see who had a stronger knowledge and connection with the Dark Side.

The Chancellor was strong indeed, and for a time Diábolis did not know if he could succeed to match him in raw potential. Indeed, he wondered why Veneficus didn't make this man his apprentice. There had to be something that made him unworthy, or Diábolis more worthy, of the sacred title of Darth.

Digging deeply into himself, and remembering the fact that he had been chosen, not this man, Diábolis found solace, and anger. A deep well of pain and suffering erupted to the surface, of his life that was destroyed and reshaped by the whim of a madman with a fixation at Galactic domination, and Diábolis' mind crackled with rage. Blue-white lightning poured from his hands, intensifying and ricocheting around the room, suddenly dwarfing the bolts from his opponent.

Anguis was thrown from his feet, smashing into the far wall and causing scrolls and amulets to rain down upon him. Stripping the man of his weapon with the Force, Diábolis took from his belt the message disk that his Master had prepared from the beginning, and activated it in his spare datapad, throwing the device at the Chancellor's feet. the visage of the Emperor appeared, glowering across the room at the traitor for a long moment before speaking.

"You have lost, old friend," Veneficus said, "You sought to rise above your station. But in the process you forgot who it was that created you in the first place, and how I molded you into the perfect servant. Never one that could hope to challenge me. You see before you my true apprentice, Darth Diábolis, the heir of my legacy. Know this truth, despair, and finally, you may go to join your family in death…"

The message ended, and Diábolis stood over the defeated Chancellor, saber in hand and ready to deliver the deathblow. And yet, the man was laughing, softly to himself, but outright finding his situation most humorous. "He will betray you as well," the man said to the Devaronian, "you know this already, but do you understand how deeply the betrayal will go?"

Narrowing his eyes, Diábolis tried to shut out the taunting words, but the man continued, "I was the closest thing he possessed to a friend in this Galaxy, and this is how he repays me… you know why they call him the Eternal Emperor? He has means, from my own planet, to cheat death, time and again… if you ever seek to beat him to his vengeance and take power, and avenge me, you must find that source of his immortality…"

"I do not need your help to defeat my master," Diábolis said, and the Chancellor laughed until his final breath.

Even as the man lay dead however, Diábolis couldn't shake what he had said regarding the Sith Master's presumed immortality. Diábolis had been with Lord Veneficus since the Apprentice's childhood, and it was true that the man seemed to age very little, and perhaps there was some measure of truth behind his words, but Darth Diábolis would find out this matter his own way, and take command of the Empire in his own fashion.

There was nothing left for him to do here, now that his mark was dead, and Diábolis departed hastily, skirting around the Republic security that would surely be coming to save their precious leader. The other man must have delayed them so that he could turn the situation to his advantage, but Diábolis had been the stronger fighter in the end. That was what Veneficus must have judged worthiness upon, the strength of one's connection to the Dark Side. Not any additional skills or extra power that they already possessed, but how well he could shape them into his perfect rival, into a form like unto himself.

It disgusted Diábolis, and he would have his revenge on the man who stole his life away, in due time. He swore it upon the might of the Dark Side itself. After escaping the Senate building, and finding himself in a deserted alleyway, Diábolis activated his datapad, sending a short message to his master that he had completed his mission, and requesting to join the attack on the Jedi Temple.

He did not need to wait long for the reply, but the orders to return to the ship were not the instructions that he desired. Clearly eliminating the Jedi Temple was something that the Emperor wished to take on himself, alone with his armies, rather than to consider his apprentice in the mix of the combat.

Diábolis felt a wave of fresh anger surge through him. Just like many times before, he was tossed aside, seemingly without even thought or consideration that he would prove an asset to his Master in the conflict.

But having learned through sad experience the results of defying his master, Diábolis obeyed. Patience was his weapon in this long game of the Rule of Two, and in due time he would have his moment. While the Galaxy would fall to Veneficus the Tyrant, they would welcome Diábolis the Liberator, and hold him in great honor as their new Emperor.

Perhaps if Diábolis found this supposed source of Veneficus' immortality, he would take it for himself as well, and rule the Galaxy until the very end of time. Yes, he would like that very much.