Happy May the 4th be with you? Because we can expect nothing good from Krazy Kathleen Kennedy and her SJW-wars studios, I will post the final installment of Rise of Darth Veneficus so that there is something good and Star Wars, or at least more Star Wars than the sequel garbage trilogy, for you all to enjoy. I will be taking next week off however, just to have a little extra buffer prepared for the 3rd book. Still looking for title suggestions, currently I have Order Among Chaos, but I'm not terribly excited by it. Next story will be separately posted, so make sure to follow me so you can get that email when it posts. Until that time, please enjoy! ~F

Epilogue

A New Order Rises

Gor-lak could feel the ripening tension through the mysterious power that these Jedi and Sith called the Force as he entered the mighty edifice of his ancient enemies. The Lord of Cruelty was among the rearmost guard of the Emperor's forces, and while he was disappointed to not be part of the main attacks, he was satisfied to see the devastation that the man who would soon be Emperor of the Galaxy wrought upon his personal foes.

Although, to the esteemed ork, even with the frail human senses to which his spirit was now affixed to, he could tell that something was off. There were a significant number of rooms and places of resident within this building, and yet the numbers of their fallen adversaries were so low in comparison.

Gor-lak knew that Jedi were prone to fleeing a fight they knew they could not win, but he had thought, as much of the rest of the Imperial soldiers did, that they would stand and fight over their precious temple. However the evidence pointed to another alternative altogether.

Standing in a rather peaceful chamber, equipped with many pools and streams of water, Gor-lak marveled for a moment at the ingenuity of these Jedi, and their desire for a peace-filled, meditative life. For them to have become such great warriors in addition to beings dedicated to peace was a controversy that he would not understand in a lifetime.

Still, even these small distractions did little to dissuade him from the oddity that was the lack of a populace within these walls. It couldn't be as simple as the Empire wiping out all of their members during the war up to now, as there was a distinct lack of any children Jedi… Padawans, Gor-lak thought they were called, or even ones that were younger and still learning.

This temple was supposed to be the home of their training facilities throughout the Galaxy, was it not?

Stopping in a long corridor to look out at the smoke filled air outside the temple, the ork started to muse aloud to himself, "There's no way that they could have hidden that many people so quickly…"

He spotted a ship trying to take off into orbit, only to be shot down ruthlessly by one of the orbiting Imperial craft, which sparked an hideous idea, "unless…"

He had no proof of course, but there had to be some sort of record that might aid him in what he sought. Turning, he set off toward the communication arrays in one of the Imperial occupied towers, farther away from the fighting, but at this moment Gor-lak cared not for the prey that they had cornered here.

He was going to begin seeking the ones that got away.

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Zhar wasn't sure what all important thing pulled the Emperor away from watching the defeat of another pair of Jedi Council Members, but if it meant that he and Euka were safe from his immediate presence for a time, he was all for it. Watching the three humans, one Jedi and two Dark Council Members, and one Bith duel was far more satisfactory then potentially standing directly in harm's way as Veneficus marched through the temple with the Scepter of Ragnos in hand.

Jedi Masters Lanan Quelross and Aaro Cater were formidable fighters, but practitioners of less than perfectly combative styles, the human female using her single green saber in the purely defensive form of Soresu, while the Bith's dual green and blue blades wove that near dance-like state of Niman Jar'kai. Unfortunately for the pair of Jedi, they were faced by two of the more aggressive Councilors of their styles, each human bringing the best of their respective Ataru Jar'kai and single saber Makashi to bear.

Saber flourishing in the elegant stabs and parries of her style, Jamasila Basksyr drove forward on her line of attack, breaking the supposed power of dual blade combat by battering her opponent's weakness, a lack of strong defenses when both hands were occupied with a saber hilt. Her precision strikes were set to play off the weakness of this, and purposely prevented the Bith from using both of his weapons to block or attack at the same time, handicapping his advantage completely.

Meanwhile, Armadon Jaccam took the alternative scope, playing off the circular motion of both Ataru and his opponent's Soresu, the pair of styles working harmoniously to build the male Human's momentum on his strikes, the pair of crimson blades transforming into spinning disks of leathal cutting force from the continual glancing deflections that Soresu practitioners favored so much.

It was almost poetry in motion, watching each Jedi's own defenses be so thoroughly turned against them, just as the Emperor had planned. It was not long before Armadon built up such a powerful momentum, fueled on by the Dark Side, that he broke through Master Quelross' defenses, severing her arm a the elbow and continuing through with the other blade to end her life.

Meanwhile, Jamasila was through toying with her opponent, and went for the kill. Stamping loudly as she leapt forward on her advancing line, she deftly slapped away every attack that came at her, her single saber bounding between the pair of Master Cater's until, with a deft grunt of exertion, she suddenly stabbed forward, impaling the Bith in the chest, killing him instantly as he backed into a wall to prevent his further retreat.

The two Jedi Masters met their end swiftly, and the Emperor would have three more lightsabers in his precious collection. Meanwhile, Zhar had seen to the capture of the Temple Hangar, and sent a communication to the ships in orbit to send down more reinforcements directly into the Temple, not that he had any measure of thought that they would need more soldiers, but Zhar would obey his orders to the letter, as that meant a continuation of his life.

Even as he made contact, the doors back to the inner corridors of the temple flew open, and the shouts of their soldiers could be heard as more Jedi, mere Knights this time, flooded in to do battle with the Dark Adepts. Zhar only smirked, these whelps would be nothing compared to their precious masters. The deep crimson of his blade lit the stonework of the temple as he, Euka, and the other High Prophets readied for a slaughter.

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Hermione shuddered at the deep cold of Hyperspace. Rarely had she flown such a long distance, but in the light of the siege of Coruscant that began just as they were leaving the planet, she hadn't had the option to make other arrangements regarding comfort. Other Jedi ships had joined them in route to their secret location, and made it clear that they were sent to protect the future of the Order, and to begin again the building up and training of new Jedi Knights.

Even though they were so far from the Core already, Hermione noted that many of the children, although reserved and rather serene most of the time, were fraught with worry and pain, many of them already in tears despite not knowing what was going on back where they had just left.

"Don't worry," she found herself telling Ist, the Bothen Padawan that was all but her assistant in this foreign matter, "I'm sure that all those at the Temple are keeping out the Empire and defeating the Emperor as we speak…"

"I appreciate the attempt, Director," the young girl replied, wiping some tears from her eyes, "but you forget that we're all Jedi. We can sense what is going on back at home right now and… and they're all dying to protect us. One by one the Sith are killing them all…"

The little Padawan trailed off, walking away, and it took all her willpower to not chase after her for answers, or to even begin trying to comfort the young Jedi. Hermione fretted that she was vastly out of her depth when it came to interaction with other individuals, another flaw woven into her being by the blasted Emperor and his countless-times damned manipulations.

Instead of trying to wear a hole in the deck by pacing, Hermione set of toward the cockpit, in order to communicate with the other ships in their evacuation fleet, and find out just which Jedi that the Temple felt were important enough to send to them. She hoped that surely Lord Berethon was among them, the grandfatherly old Jedi Lord was always so kind to her, and she knew that his leadership would be invaluable to these struggling young ones.

Inside, she found that there were already others asking that same question, and in direct communication with those of the other ships. Jedi Master Obo Fequell, a Besalisk with eight massively strong arms, and a tender and protective demeanor was frowning sadly behind the main speaker, Master Restelly Quist, who until recently had been the Chief Librarian of the Jedi Archive. The human Jedi was still clutching several datapads and other items, carefully selected by her as too precious to be allowed to fall into the Empire's hands.

"Are you sure that no one else will be joining us?" she was asking the Jedi on the other ships, who due to the transit through Hyperspace couldn't send more than audio from ship to ship.

"Yes, sure of that, I am…" came the reply, and Hermione smirked as she recognized the altered speech pattern of Luna's good friend and fellow Jedi Master, Yoda.

"Then we are all but alone in this venture," Master Fequell stated sadly, and Hermione could sense the trace amounts of despair, mixed with a deep sense of acceptance. The Mage-born technomancer was moved by it, and wasn't sure if she would be able to handle the same situation as fairly.

The pair of Jedi informed her that alongside those in her shuttles, only Master Yoda and roughly a dozen other Knights and Masters were sent with them, leaving the Jedi Order all but destroyed.

"But we will rebuild," Master Quist said sternly, her stubborn streak revealing itself as he clenched her hands, "We will take the gift that all our friends sacrificed their lives for and do everything in our power to overthrow this new Emperor, and free the Galaxy from the dominion of the Sith once and for all."

Hermione felt drawn to the inspiring words of the Chief Librarian, and had the suspicion that they would be alright in the end, no matter what the outcome of their fate. "Then you are all more than welcome in our new base," she said, taking the elderly Jedi by the hands, "We shall establish your new sanctuary in the midst of the Magi-tech facility, and supply the Order with everything they could possibly need, by technology or by magic, so will it be done."

The old woman smiled back at her, clasping her hands in friendship.

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Fury watched in awe as High Prophet Nssjilirst launched himself at Master Isshaartu, a reptilian roar in his throat as the ancient enemies fought. Aside from the conflict of the Light and Dark Sides, there was something even deeper in their struggle, Fury noted. Trandoshans were the solidified enemies of all Wookiees, and the pair of races fought each other across the centuries that their species were known to the Republic.

But that knowledge did little to portray the ruthlessness that the Dark Side reptile showed as he attacked the hairy Jedi, all four of the combatant's sabers clashing with such force that sparks flew in all directions.

Meanwhile, Master Trangrin was leveling her attacks upon High Prophet Los, battering the defenses of the Dark Side Selkath, the Jedi's saberstaff working effortless to press her opponent fully onto the defensive. Knowing what he had to do, Fury dashed forward, adding his weapons to the fray against the Falleen Jedi Master, and knocking her blades upward so that he could plant his booted foot directly into her torso, knocking the green skinned humanoid back, even as

The High Prophet attacked, slashing and stabbing in a sudden flurry of moves that chained together so fluidly that Fury was almost thrown to the side as the aquatic creature advanced.

However, he pressed the attack as well, and together the three blades worked in driving the staff wielding Jedi onto her back foot. Even as she blocked a powerful two handed strike from Prophet Los, Master Trangrin was left open to Fury, who bore down like a malevolent tide, battering her defenses and scoring a critical blow, cutting her saber right through the center of the hilt.

The weapon came apart, now a useless lump for one side, and a working single blade for the other, and it was only a matter of time, before the might of Fury's onslaught broke the defenses of the Jedi, and allowed the High Prophet to land the killing blow on the one proud being.

A roar of pain and rage tore their attention away from their victory however, as she spotted Prophet Nssjilirst, who was hissing approvingly at the Wookiee arm in his hand, his blade having severed it from the Jedi's body, saber and all. Throwing the appendage aside, the Trandoshan sprang at his wounded opponent, and though Master Isshartu fought like a rabid beast, leaving many wounds on the Prophet, eventually he fell from the pain of his injury and the bladework of his foe.

Only when he was sure that the Wookiee was dead did Nssjilirst stop attacking the body, lifting his head to let loose a garbled shriek of triumph, holding the hilts of his fallen adversary overhead. Fury smirked, knowing that they were to be well rewarded for this deed by the Emperor, once the battle was concluded and the Temple theirs.

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Veneficus was unsurprised that Supreme Prophet Feyd was unable to defeat the blind Jenet Grandmaster, and his patience was running thin. Battling them all directly was the only sensible course of action, if he wanted this to end now and move on to suppressing the Republic. Even though he knocked the Jenet aside, her human allies weren't so quick to simply allow themselves to be defeated, and leapt in to delay him from finishing off their leader.

The Scepter of Ragnos, so powerful that it could deflect glancing saber strikes, hummed in the Emperor's hand as he fought with it and a single crimson blade in his other hand. Flipping sideways out of the way of a stabbing thrust from one of the Jedi, clad in green, Veneficus jabbed outward with the rear end of the staff, catching the other in the chest hard, and knocking the wind from the human's lungs.

The other human charged, blade rising in a traditional Djem-So overhead strike, but Veneficus was ready, the hand holding his saber already extended and lightning sparking from his fingertips. The Jedi only barely managed to bring his blade down to stop the bolts from striking him, but the force of their landing threw him backwards.

Kicking the reeling Jedi again to knock him to the ground, Veneficus planted his boot on the small of the man's back, spinning the Scepter to face downward, the horns at the head of the artifact encircling the head of his next victim. "Know your despair, Jedi," he hissed to the three, "and learn now that my Darkness will be everlasting…"

Activating the artifact with the Force, he began to vicious draw the Force and Life essence away from the Jedi Master trapped beneath him, who despite all their training and supposed discipline, still shrieked in agony and began to flail and twitch under the demanding torture of the Scepter.

The green clad Jedi attempted to rise and fight again, but Veneficus leveled another blast of lightning at him, forcing the Jedi back to his knees as he warded off the deadly energy with his blue blade.

He expected the tiny Grandmaster to try something, but even as the Jedi beneath his foot perished in agonizing torment, Veneficus was actually surprised that the Jenet hadn't rushed in to her death as well. Not to presume that she hadn't done anything, the Emperor turned to witness what he had sensed as a possibility to happen since arriving at the Temple.

The small Grandmaster was rising from the ground; blind eyes shining with radiant Force energy, even as she allowed the pure Light Side power of the Temple engulf her. Alas, Veneficus was more than ready for her this time. Kicking aside the husk of his former victim from beneath his feet, Veneficus raised the Scepter.

If he ended this Jedi right now, the Temple was more than surely his. All would fall before him and the Galaxy would tremble forever at his power. From the corner of his eye, the Emperor spotted a rush of movement. Pulling the Scepter back sharply, he dodged the attacking Jedi, who had flown from his position where Veneficus had thrown him, intent on severing the weapon in Veneficus' hands.

The Sith Master smirked at the failure, before quickly apparating behind the Jedi and plunging his saber into the man's back, not in order to kill, but cleverly damaging several key parts of the body that would incapacitate the man permanently, and allow for him to be the one witness of Veneficus' true victory.

Calling upon the Dark Side that welled inside him like an erupting geyser, the Sith Emperor struck, unleashing a blast of overwhelming energy at the Jedi Grandmaster, still deep in the thralls of her precious Light. She did retaliate, unleashing a concentrated beam of Light to try and counter him, but Veneficus had more than enough hatred to last a lifetime, and another secret weapon: the Temple itself.

Try as they might to forget, the Jedi were willfully ignorant of their own Temple's history. Long before they dwelled here, deep within the mountain upon which their sanctuary was built rested a nexus of Dark Power, energy that the Sith Lords had discovered and called upon time and again to hinder or blind the Jedi to their whereabouts, and now… even as Veneficus called upon its power to aid him, now it would destroy them once and for all.

The comparatively narrow beam of Light energy was broken by the onslaught of the Dark, and struck the Jedi with a horrendous explosion of power. Defiantly, she held on to her Light and her power, trying to bring it forth as a shield around her, defending with her last actions the precious location she held dear.

It was almost amusing to watch her struggle against the inevitable. Nevertheless Veneficus didn't toy around with her. Increasing what power he could send into the artifact, he redoubled his efforts to obliterate her outright, feeling the debilitating effects of the Dark Side amplifying the degradation of his own body in the process, but he had means of forestalling that once this battle was concluded.

It seemed assured, even when the Jedi Master allowed her shield to buckle, and the damaging beam of destruction struck her at last, but there was something off about it. Even from where he stood, Veneficus could see that the Jedi was smiling as she died, and the golden glow of the Light was fracturing off of her to disappear into every corner of the room.

At first he wasn't sure what was going on, but then he spotted the Jedi he had intentionally left alive, the golden glow covering the man's fallen body, before he completely vanished in a small flash of light.

Sensing that the man was transported somewhere far away, but very much alive, Veneficus realized the Grandmaster's initial plan to sacrifice herself in order to save the others. Roaring in rage, Veneficus allowed the Scepter's beam to destroy every last trace of the small Jenet, and leave a sizeable hole in the wall separating him from the Great Holocron.

Somehow the victory seemed deftly muted now, even as comm. channels started to sound from the others, with declarations of every remaining Jedi in the Temple vanishing in a mysterious golden light.

Rage seething within him, he tore the doors open with the Force. The Jedi may have survived, but it mattered not. He had their fortress, and all their knowledge. He had the Great Holocron, and through it he would be truly Eternal. No force in the Galaxy could stop him now.

The Arcanamach stood guard, preventing any from entering the Holocron Vault as the Eternal Emperor ventured in, seeking the first opportunity to drink of his Elixir of Life out of sight of any of his followers.

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Jedi Lord Berethon landed softly somewhere cold and metallic, quite unlike the stone rubble had had previously been uncomfortably dropped upon when the Sith Emperor severed his spinal column. He would never stand or walk again, and Berethon knew this without needing a healer to tell him.

The Jedi Lord also knew what the Grandmaster of the Order had done, and that the Emperor's final act of killing her was probably something considered a mercy, as she had given herself over the Light Side of the Force completely, sacrificing herself to its whims in order to save every remaining Jedi in the Temple, transporting them to a hidden hangar on the far side of Coruscant.

The price she would have paid if she hadn't been killed would have cost her life regardless, and it moved even the stern and biased Corellian Jedi at the willingness to sacrifice for her loved ones.

However, they lacked time to just stand around marveling at what had happened. Sensing his pain and helplessness through the Force, several Jedi came and gently rolled him onto his back, taking care to keep the wounds from sending bolts of pain through his body. "We need to move," Berethon was instructing them, particularly at the handful of Green Jedi that were among the group. Pausing as he looked around with his new vantage, the Jedi Lord paled. There were so few that had survived to be rescued. Less than three dozen Jedi filled this unknown hangar.

"Bring medical equipment and get everyone loaded onto ships, we need to take a long route out of the system, hopefully avoiding any engagement with the Imperial forces." He continued after mustering his voice once more, and in small groups the Jedi Knights and Masters started to obey, several creating a makeshift stretcher to carry Lord Berethon into the nearest shuttle, while others saw to healing the other wounded.

Healers came and attempted to tend to him, but just as the Jedi Lord had anticipated, they declared that the damage to his spine was irreparable, even with a full bacta submersion. He accepted this, and settled for them to heal what other wounds they could, and stated that he would wait for them to move out and seek aid from the hidden facilities of the Mage-born to try anything to improve his condition.

Only when they had loaded everyone on board three of the shuttles that they had found, did Lord Berethon give them instruction to take off, and follow on a elongated route that would have them jumping to many locations before diverting to the secret location of Magi-Tech. he just hoped that Director Granger had enough time to escape when she did with all the Padawans and Younglings.

He couldn't see too much from where he lay, but the jarring shudders and laser fire that occasionally flared past the viewport in his room told him that they were heavily pursued, just as he had expected would happen. The Emperor wouldn't let them get away too easily. But through the skills of whomever was at the wheel they managed to break through the blockade around the planet, and escape into Hyperspace.

Breathing a small sigh of relief as the stars blossomed into lines around them, Lord Berethon allowed himself to fall into a healing trance, to recover what energy he could from the battle, and the terrible experience of losing the use of his legs forever.

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Severus knew that it would be dangerous, contacting anyone that had remained on Coruscant, but he felt it was imperative that they knew exactly what was happening in the Republic, and the only person he could trust was Senator Neville Longbottom, clone of the real man though he might have been.

The Senator had mentioned that there was an emergency meeting of the Senate called, just around the same time as the attack on the Jedi Temple, but the Chancellor had yet to appear, when suddenly the man froze, looking up.

"Longbottom!" Severus said sternly, demanding to know what was wrong. Instead of replying, Longbottom turned the communicator slowly, angling it so that Severus knew the item was out of sight, but perfectly able to see the interior of the Senate Rotunda, even as the Chancellor's podium rose from its typical space.

Standing in the place where Draco once stood was Potter, clad in robes of black, gold and crimson, wielding a massive staff in one hand and his eyes visibly glowing with power even from the distance that Longbottom stood.

The entire Senate was silenced at the appearance of the Sith Emperor, in person, into their midst and as though suppressed by his aura of malice and hatred, they waited for him to speak.

"Members of the Galactic Senate of the Republic," Veneficus began smugly, knowing that he had more than won, "Your government is no more. I have beaten your armies, crushed your guardians, the Jedi, and have taken the planet of your capital for my own. You will surrender and fall under my rule, as you should have from the beginning…"

An angry rumble sounded from the thousands of representatives that stood in the massive chamber, and for a brief moment Severus hoped that they would outright refuse. But no one moved against the black robed man, not a one dared to step forward and deny his claim of the Galaxy.

"No!" Longbottom sudden said from behind the screen that was Severus' only window into the confines of the meeting, "We will not surrender to you, madman. You and your Empire are not welcome here. We would rather die than become your slaves!"

Severus could see that Veneficus was smiling as he turned to face the Senator of New Terra. "Ah, dear Neville, so much like your original you are… arrogant and proud, once he broke through his shell of weakness… I had hoped that you out of them all would stand up to me, so that I could prove my total victory once and for all…"

A holoprojection appeared high above the Chancellor's podium, featuring the world of New Terra, surrounded by massive capital ships of the Empire's design, "For any of those thinking of rebellion from our new form of Government, I will display the full finality of your punishment, so that there can be no dispute among you that I will crush any and all that oppose me…" Veneficus stated, before turning to a comlink on his wrist, "Fire at will, commanders."

"It will be done, your Majesty," came the reply, magnified by the droids that floated around the Sith Lord to have his words echo for all to hear.

There was a brilliant flash of light as thousands of projectiles were launched from the surrounding ships, boring into the crust of the world, and Severus could see that the magma mantle of the Mage-born fashioned world was rupturing from the intense disruptions that were being blasted into it from all sides.

It took an agonizingly long time for the planet to finally give out, and a massive shape appeared, one of the hulking beasts of the Imperial fleet, to drive a final overwhelming beam of pure green energy into the devastated husk of a planet, shattering it into many pieces, utterly slaying every person that had lived upon its face.

"It would seem that you no longer represent a planet in this government, Senator Longbottom, and therefore have no more purpose in being here…" Veneficus said slowly and icily, and in a flash Severus saw the man draw his wand and point it just over the screen, "AVADA KEDAVERA!"

The thud from behind the screen was followed by a shriek from within the Rotunda as many of the Senators, so long possessing the idea that they were safe, suddenly realized that the man who had claimed their government could kill them at his heart's content.

Mercifully, the screen hadn't been moved by Longbottom's death, and Severus was still in a perfect position to see the Emperor as he stowed his wand away and sat elegantly in the Chancellor's seat. "Now that you are all well aware of your plight," he said, taking a far more relaxed stance, "you will forfeit your worlds to my Empire one by one, or else meet a similar fate to our dear Mage-born friends."

Severus was momentarily confused why the Senators didn't just flee the Rotunda, but a glimpse of crimson across from his screen told him all he needed to know. The Dark Adepts and Imperial Royal guard had blocked all exits from the Rotunda, locking in the Senators and their advisors with Veneficus, likely until they had succumbed to his demands and surrendered their worlds to his machinations.

With all the pressure now placed squarely upon them, it was no surprise that one by one the Senators bowed to the Emperor's wishes, and Severus watched in silence as the Galaxy fell to the might of the Empire.

Closing the screen when he had had enough of the horrid scene, he swore to himself that New Terra would be avenged, and the Republic would be restored some day, even if he himself did not live to see it done.

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Veneficus relished in his triumph as he lounged in the meditation chamber of his personal quarters aboard the Terrasque hours later. The Jedi were crushed, if not completely wiped out, and the Republic had fallen to their knees before him, pleading for mercy. And he, being a merciful ruler, had obliged.

Even now his people were making the preparations for a transition of power from the Senate to a more orderly system of governors and loyal Adepts that would disperse the laws and conduct from his Dark Council. Meanwhile, he would stand at the head of the government, mighty and proud as their eternal leader, meanwhile secretly seeking the true depths of the Force from the mysteries of the Great Holocron.

Sure, it was likely, if not highly probable that there would be many to rise up against him in the course of the first years of his reign, but they would be crushed in like manner to the Republic, thoroughly and without question.

Diábolis would be the first and front line of his power, his strong right hand, that would sweep down and destroy his enemies as they appeared, allowing his armies to clean up the remains with little effort.

Speaking of the Devaronian, Veneficus inclined his head in acknowledgement as his apprentice arrived, sinking to his knees in respect to his victorious master. "The Force is with us, Master Veneficus," he stated.

"Welcome, Lord Diábolis," Veneficus replied, relishing the feelings in the Force as the Jedi Temple below surged with Light and Darkness. It was part of his personal project to transform the monument to the Light into his personal palace on Coruscant.

"There are many fringe groups that have fled various battles across the Galaxy," the Devaronian reported, "I suspect that they will soon attempt to mount a rebellion against us."

Veneficus nodded, already vastly aware of the potential, "They will be of your primary concern, my apprentice. You will hunt them down and eliminate them, especially the last remnants of the Jedi. Through those victories you will become strong with the Dark Side…"

Veneficus smiled falsely, hiding his true intentions in poisoned words. He had no desire to release control of the Galaxy to his apprentice. He had fulfilled the power of the Rule of Two, and the Galaxy was theirs once again. The Sith, Master and Apprentice, had long operated with a union of hatred and anger against the Republic. And to be united by hatred was a fragile alliance at best…

Now that he was Emperor of the Galaxy, the only threat that remained was losing his power, and Diábolis unfortunately stood as the greatest rival that he possessed. Veneficus could just eliminate him outright, but that would be a terrible waste of useful energy and potential. It would be far better to make use of his apprentice, and just hope that an accident on one of his many, many future missions would cost the Devaronian his life.

"Once more the Sith shall rule this Galaxy…" he said, smirking, "and the Galaxy shall know our definition of peace…"

High, cold cackling filled the chamber, even as both Sith Lords directed their thoughts outward to their individual tasks and plotting their vengeance on each other, as their Order had so done in time well before the foundation of the Republic.

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The planet Florn was not terribly assuming, Bellatrix though as she brought down her stolen ship into the thick jungles near the coordinates her sweet nephew had provided to her. Her long search through what records were there, garbled and ridden with riddles and false information had finally drawn to a close, and she had found the place where she was sent to at last.

Triangulating the coordinates she had found, and several other things from various Imperial research stations that she had infiltrated in her attempts to locate a weapon to use against Potter, Bellatrix knew where she must go.

Leaving her ship hidden in a thick wooded area, knowing that the locals wouldn't take kindly to someone poking about their ancient ruins and other darker secrets on their world, Bellatrix wrapped herself in enchantment and illusion in order to pass quickly and without notice through to her destination.

Veneficus had done his best to shroud this place in mystery and keep it from becoming known, and the mad witch could only guess because he feared his followers rising up against him and unleashing this power against him.

Else that or the man planned to keep it to himself and use the hidden army that was here as a last ditch weapon to destroy or take the Galaxy if all else failed.

Regardless of the cause, Bellatrix had beaten him to it, and would now wake the slumbering army to destroy the foolish man who had taken her Lord, betrayed his planet, and sold out all things that were right with magic to be corrupted by muggle ingenuity in a hell-bent plot against some intergalactic government that none of them had known about for decades before the blasted boy came back into their lives.

Just thinking of how much she hated the man made sparks shoot from Bellatrix's wand, and she forced herself to be calm as she approached the unassuming entrance to the deep tombs of the Sith Army. Some time long ago, before even the Republic was formed, the creatures known as the Sith had conquered this planet, and in the process of their wars with the Republic after fallen Jedi came and took over their Empire, they secreted away one of their strong leaders here, a Force sensitive Sith with great power, and a army frozen in stone to fight for him when they were ready to throw off their oppressors.

Naturally that day never came, as they were weak, but the army and their dark master endured throughout the generations, waiting for the time that someone would remember and awaken him.

Bellatrix intended to do just that.

Keeping her eyes constantly moving just in case of potential ambush from animal or other beings, she delved into the cave network where the tomb was secreted, cautious picking her way through traps left by who knew what, Veneficus or others unknown.

Through her sheer skill and power in the Dark Arts, she made it to the wide doors of the Tomb, which seemed to require some Force user to open, but there was no time for such things, and with a Dark Curse, mixed with the unlocking Charm, Bellatrix managed to create an opening in the door despite its intentions to remain shut.

A massive hall awaited her on the other side, filled with row after row of dark stone blocks, each a warrior frozen in time, just waiting for the right person to come and awaken them.

At the far end, on a raised platform stood another frozen figure, almost seemingly carved out of the rock itself, but Bellatrix knew better. From the facial tentacles and completely bald scalp it was unmistakably a Sith, and ancient weapons littered the ground around him, symbols of his many victories.

There surely was a means or way that the being was to be unfrozen, but Bellatrix would rely on nothing but her magic any longer, as she repented her long span of time serving the destroyer of all things Pureblooded. Even if she was indeed the last of the Purebloods alive, she would hold to the traditions of the Blacks.

Her knowledge of the Dark Arts were well served this day, she leveled her wand on the statue and muttered the counter curse for petrifaction, which would carefully transfigure the statue back from stone to flesh. Very few had known such a spell existed, as there were so few things in their world that had the power of petrifaction, and Bellatrix had searched long and hard to learn these secrets for her Master, the Dark Lord Voldemort.

From the feet upward the statue started to soften to flesh at last, and the figure flexed his muscles for the first time in millennia, breathing in the cold dusty air.

"At last…" he said silkily, voice wavering with disuse of vocal chords only just returned to use. "The time has come to eliminate the Je'daii and the vile usurpers of the Sith Empire…"

Only then did the figure turn, looking puzzled at Bellatrix's appearance. "You are not one of my people, nor one of my followers. I demand that you tell me who you are and how you came to find my resting place."

Normally, she would have retorted angrily at the demands of anyone, but Bellatrix had a plan to win this creature over to her side. "I am but a humble servant," she said with a bow, "and in the ages that have passed between your time and ours, I can understand the confusion you must face."

The Sith eyes filled with rage, blazing red and yellow at the mention of the time gap, and he lashed out, sending brilliant orange and yellow energy at Bellatrix, so swiftly that she didn't have time to bring up any defenses. Shrieking, she collapsed, sensing what the creature was doing and understanding at last why Veneficus himself would avoid this place.

The being was deranged, leeching off her memories. "I see now…" he stated, even as he continued to slowly kill her. "Do not worry, Bellatrix Lestrange… I will kill your Sith Emperor, as payment for you freeing me and my army at last. But then we will have our vengeance on a Galaxy that all but forgot the name of the Sith…"

Bellatrix died with a smile of pure hatred.

To Be Continued…