Wow, it's been a rough week; makes me glad that I prepare all of these chapters in advance, and I'm still theoretically on time, so I guess it's not that big of a deal. Still, thanks to those who review, and here's the next one. Enjoy! ~F
Chapter Twelve
Discovering Triumph
Veneficus sat in his throne, not quite in the heart of his palace, but near enough that his aura shone like a beacon of blackness through the building, and he knew that this alone would be sufficient to pull the two invaders away from considering his holocron vault or other targets as their destination.
Diabolis paced methodically around the front of the room, waiting in clear impatience for the event that the Sith Master was sensing through the Force as it unfurled before him.
In the meantime, it gave Veneficus the time he needed to monitor the progress of his security as they mobilized against the threat that would overcome them inevitably. It was truly sad, the guards were less than capable of even finding an intruder of any caliber of note, let alone actually detain or slay them when already notified by Veneficus himself.
Veneficus sensed the dozens that were systematically killed as Skarok-Nur carved his way to the prison cells, where his apprentice resided for the time being.
"I would have thought that such a powerful force such as the Arcanamach would have already started forming their defenses for us against such powerful intruders," Diábolis said casually, striking the cord that Veneficus had already felt being worn thin.
The time for the royal guards was slowly passing. As soon as he found immortality in the depths of the collected knowledge of the Jedi and the Sith, he would become invincible, and have no need for any mundane force to protect his welfare, but even still there was a clear deficience from this latest batch of clones of Blaise Zabini. Granted, the DNA that they had left of the man was wearing thin, and perhaps it was time to look for newer, stronger stock to fill the gaps, but that was a notion for another time.
"Intruders in the cell block!" spoke a voice over the communication systems for the palace, finally notifying them all that Skarok-Nur had freed his apprentice.
"They come now…" Veneficus said lazily, already turning his presence toward them as they swiftly cut their way through the corridors of the palace and made their way directly to Veneficus in his throne room.
Smirking as he sensed their presence at the final corner, Veneficus gestured at the door, wielding the Force so finely that it slid open silently, moments before the pair of Sith Hybrids appeared on the other side, their black lightsabers lit and glowing with their faint light.
"Well, well…" Veneficus said, unmoving from his near lazy posture on the curved throne. "I was wondering how long it would take for you both to arrive here… and I find myself disappointed…"
Diábolis lit his own weapon, moving to stand between the threat and his master, even as Veneficus sneered at them, amused at their brashness to so willingly follow his scheme in the Force to their deaths.
"Your rebellion against my rule ends here…" Veneficus said, probing the pair to find what small jab would be needed to send them into a blinding rage and eliminate their reason to fight strategically.
"Rebellion?" Skarok-Nur responded, equally amused in tone, "it is revolution, false Emperor. Your entire line was placed into power based on the false move of Naga Sadow against my master, the true heir of the Sith Empire anciently. But that time has passed, and it is you that will suffer in Sadow's place…"
Leaning forward slowly, Veneficus allowed the full power of the Dark Side to flow from him, revealing the deep lamp-yellow of his eyes, "Oh… I'm afraid that your desperate plan will be quite unattainable, against my superior might…"
"Then we shall destroy you to prove it!" the younger apprentice shouted, falling for the seductive trap, and leaping forward.
It was almost child's play for Diábolis to intercept and block the forward momentum of the younger hybrid, even as Skarok-Nur advanced more slowly. It would have been an excellent test of his apprentice's might, to face off against these two at once, but with their clear and determined focus on attacking the seeming defenseless Emperor directly, it was laughable for the Devaronian to hedge them back, blocking their attack routes and otherwise hindering them from trying any sort of united front against Veneficus.
Inevitably however, Skarok-Nur stopped playing, and turned his attention to Diábolis, and was able to engage the apprentice well enough that Yihdâ, the apprentice made it nearer to the massive throne. Feigning a small dose of fear, Veneficus raised his hands against the young being, watching the dawning horror as the Hybrid Sith dove in for the strike, only to realize his mistake even as Skarok-Nur called out for him to watch out.
The flow of lightning from his fingers was music to Veneficus' ears, mixed with the screams of Yihdâ as the younger opponent was thrown backward, crashing heavily into the solid wall of stone.
Rising slowly from his throne, Veneficus reveled in the expression of power that the Force that rang out as he reached for his weapons. His presence was growing so great that the Force itself responded to his movements. He commanded the dictates of the future with a thought, and through rituals he eclipsed even the strength of starships.
The crimson beam of a single blade erupted from his hilt, as Diábolis stood aside as the Emperor of the Galaxy leapt with a roar of rage at this upstart that considered himself a rival to the ultimate being of the Dark Side.
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Filius watched in tense suspension as the last few shuttles slipping into the hangar of the Pursuit of Justice, escaping the threatening Sith fighters and other ships that were starting to wear through the powerful barrier projected by the massive rebellion ship.
But the problem was that there were still more on the surface, and several of their communication officers were desperately trying to triangulate the position of their forces, as well as the remnant Republic soldiers that were trying to hold off the Imperial ground troops as long as possible.
"Sir, shield strength dipping below twenty percent!" another called, sounding worried.
They had held in close orbit for well over an hour of solid bombardment, and more of the officers were now desperately looking toward Filius for permission to start pulling away before the shields failed completely, and despite the fact that he had a great deal of anxiety at doing so, they had little choice but to fall back for the time being.
As much as he wanted to continue to wait and save everyone that they could, Filius knew that he had a duty to those that had already escaped from the march of the Empire across Ord Mantell.
"Pull the ship back," Filius ordered after another long pause, feeling a great weight settle in his chest. Not everyone made it off the planet. He had meticulously counted the shuttles as they entered and registered with the ship, and they were one short.
But they were out of time. "I hope whatever poor souls are still down there are wise enough to go to ground until we can return, or else escape on their own," Filius said to no one in particular, even as the planet started to pull away from their view, and the Pursuit of Justice made for deep space in order to hyperspace away. They had a long, circular route planned to swiftly shake off any pursuit, and then return back to their new base at Bakura.
Closing his eyes as the starlines enveloped their ship, Filius apologized once more to those that they had to leave behind. If it had been only his own crew, or even Admiral Weasley, they would have remained until the ship had to limp away to give all the time they could to those on the surface, but those times had been against a severely weakened fleets under the High Inquisitor, and they had not been carrying so many important supplies and personal that were needed for the furthering of the rebellion altogether.
After several tense minutes, they pulled out of Hyperspace once more, the officers immediately flew into action, resetting weapon and shields, as well as setting to regulating their engines and calculating what damage they took in the battle.
"Commander, incoming objects from Hyperspace! T-minus twenty," the long range sensor officer called.
"Jump to the next location." Filius called, and within moments the star lines glared past them once more, and they were off to the next stopping point.
This was the strategy that they used to escape Gor-lak the Cruel time and again: staggering their jumps between a myriad of locations, combined with rapidly seeing to the repairs and recharging of the ship. It was a complicated process, one that had been carefully tailored to their crew, but was currently going far slower than before because of the surprise boarding that they had weathered, and had lost some of their command staff and crews throughout the ship. Filius was certain many of the Republic soldiers would jump in where they could, but for the moment he was focused on the need of keeping them a step ahead of any pursuit.
They would follow the closest hyperlane for the next few jumps, before carefully diverting from it and doubling back to go in another direction, and then a third time to turn back toward Bakura. Fortunately, their astromechs and technicians that worked the Hyperdrive had been spared, and they would make it back in time, and likely lose all pursuers.
As they entered their fourth jump, the door to the bridge opened, and Filius turned, hand on his wand out of habit, but he released it as more technicians appeared, followed by a pair of men in Republic military uniforms.
At a glance, Filius could tell their ranks instantly. One was that of a Republic Army General, while the other was a Fleet Commodore. "Marshal Commander Flitwick!" each said, slapping sharp salutes as they recognized the former rank that Filius had attained in the Neo-Sith war. Waving away their formalities, Filius gestured for them both to approach. The General gestured for their technicians to fill the room, and each of the other beings immeaitely went to fill places that had been vacated, studying closely what Filius' crew were up to in order to assist as best they could.
"The situation seems grim, Commander," the Commodore said, hands clasped behind his back in proper military decorum.
"At ease…" Filius said, one hand twitched as he resisted the urge to rub at his temples. He was still weary from the mad dash through the ship to eliminate the Dark Adept that threatened their entire ship mere hours ago, and he hadn't had any rest or sustenance since the battle began.
"Of course, Sir," the Commodore said, relaxing his posture, but Filius could tell that the man was a stickler for the required amount of respect between ranks.
"I will get to the point," Filius said slowly, "we are executing a series of maneuvers to shake off any pursuit, and then we will be going straight to the location of the new rebellion base, being built specifically for our use as the front of our military planning against the Empire."
"Sir?" the General asked, and Filius turned to him.
"General Caldev Marlas, third division Republic Ground Assault Forces, sir, I was curious as to why we are going to a new base and not the main base?" the human said quickly, and Filius had to resist rolling his eyes at the military rattling of name and rank.
"Gentlemen, please, I have no patience for military formalities. I was a professor for a long time before entering the war, and I am used to a relaxed discourse of ideas." He said at last, having enough of their strict etiquette.
"We are not going to the main base because, among other things, the director of the Rebellion does not yet trust that all who wish to join us have the best intentions," Filius quickly explained, holding up a hand to forestall the Commodore from interrupting, "you will meet her, as she is heading the construction, and you can ask in person when the time is right."
Filius left the conversation at that, having little else that he was able to explain perfectly, and knowing that they had more important matters to tend to, such as detailing exactly what had prevent their remaining forces from escaping the planet, and the status of the other forces of the Republic throughout the sector.
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Diábolis was taken aback at the duel that unfolded before him. As much as he had wanted to understand just how strong his master truly was, this was not what he had expected.
The pair of Force users transformed into blurs of motion, crimson and onyx blades shattering against each other with flashed of light. Liberal uses of the Force were incorporated into their graceful dance of death, and Diábolis had to retreat to a safe distance to avoid the crashes of lightning or the blasts of telekinesis.
Even attempting to view the chaos before him required a focused effort of the Force, just to slow their motions to his eye. Veneficus clearly held the upper hand of the aggressor in the duel, his twin sabers having been brought to bear in all vengeance against Skarok-Nur. But the Sith-human hybrid was not without a level of skill all his own, able to handle the onslaught for the time being.
But Diábolis could see that the Dark Side flowed through his master in far greater quantities than the other Sith. Unfortunately, his eyes were torn away from the powerful duel as the Force cried out a warning to him, and he dodged the hastily thrust ebon blade, wielded by the now recovered Yihdâ, and he had his own rival to match against.
Twinblade whirling in tight arcs, Diábolis allowed his consciousness to sink into the rage and miasmic power of the Dark Side, even calling upon a portion of his master's darkness through the bond of master and apprentice, in order to bring every ounce of power to bear against this usurper. What he received from Veneficus was unexpected. Instead of the trickle of foresight and strength that he was used to, it was closer to a tidal wave of pure power.
This was a fight for the right to rule as Lords of the Sith, and Veneficus was giving the battle no quarter, unleashing every ounce of skill and knowledge that he had amassed in his lifetime, through struggle and trial.
It washed over Diábolis, and he became hyper aware of his surroundings. If this was even a fraction of what his master felt, then the Devaronian knew he had his work cut out for him in the process of usurping the mantle of Sith Master from the man.
Charging headlong at Yihdâ, Diábolis did not care that his weapon left deep gouges in the throne room of his master, the blades sending sparks flying at the other Sith, who staggered back from the sudden series of attack, only managing to bring up his defenses in time to keep his head, and his life.
Surrendering to the madness that his master generated, the Apprentice felt all the calculating brilliance of Veneficus surge into his mind, allowing him to foresee the moves of his opponent long before they were even committed to by the hybrid, and allowing him to counter them gracefully and efficiently.
Pressing Yihdâ back immediately, sticking to a series of pure offensive techniques, Diábolis hammered his blades back and forth across the forceful blocks of his opponent, feeling every amount of energy that he was leeching from his opponent in the process, and allowing the momentum of his weapon to carry him into his next attack.
Sensing a pitiful attempt to reverse their positions, Diábolis leapt into the air, dodging the sweep at his legs completely, and channeling the Force, he landed heavily with a shockwave of telekinesis, throwing Yihdâ back even farther from him.
Sprinting forward, Diábolis executed a spinning leapt, his weapon spinning tightly around him like the end of a drill, deflecting any attempt at counter attack, and throwing his opponent out of position. Catching his enemies' blade with his own, Diábolis threw it heavily to the side, leaving Yihdâ dangerously exposed for the counter slash, which ended the hybrid's life and sent the usurper to the floor in a heap.
In a torrent, the powerful surge of the Force fled from him, leaving Diábolis drained and weary, and it was all he could do to stay in his feet and turn his head to watch the continued battle of the two master's of the Dark Side; the most powerful Force users in the Galaxy.
Veneficus had clearly been forced to yield a bit of ground in order to flood his apprentice with all the help he needed to eliminate Yihdâ, and had paid for it a bit. There was a clear scorch mark on his robes, and Veneficus was carrying himself more to the left side, shielding his injured right from further damage.
But now, the Emperor charged forward once more, with a roar of rage and anger, his weapons flying forward to catch the single blade of Skarok-Nur, shattering the hybrid's stance and throwing him off his footing completely.
Seizing the opportunity, Veneficus' offhand blade vanished, even as the Force caught and threw Skarok-Nur into the air, separating the other duelist from his weapon completely.
The hybrid slammed back into the ground, Diábolis wincing at the audible snap of bone and ligament as the hard surface shattered something important in the other Sith, causing him to bellow in pain.
"That is only a taste of what is to come," Veneficus said, his voice soft but the menacing tone audible over even the wails of pain, even as the Emperor withdrew the short wooden wand, which crackled with energy and the touch of the Dark Side.
Diábolis felt the unnatural power that the small implement represented, and it truly frightened him. This was a power that he had no capability of matching, because he neither understood it nor could use it himself.
"I've developed a special ritual spell just for you…" Veneficus said, even as he waved the wand, causing runes to appear in sickening green and blood-red lights around the pair of Sith Lords.
"Simply put," Veneficus explained, between bursts of incantations, none of which Diábolis understood, "your death is not sufficient to satisfy me… so I will take it a step further, and erase you from the history of the Galaxy…"
Diábolis widened his eyes. Could such a thing be truly possible? Surely the Emperor was exaggerating, and was simply planning a brutally ignoble death to place Skarok-Nur in and leave him to rot for a long time.
But no, Diábolis had heard his master quite well, and the man had specifically indicated that he would erase Skarok-Nur from history, as in make everyone who had ever known of him forget.
The spell concluded, and runes flew through the air and latched onto the hybrid painfully, searing their way onto his flesh through his clothes and armor, making Skarok-Nur thrash on the ground and scream all the more.
"I developed this spell off the means of defending a location by erasing it from the memory of all but a secret keeper. I alone will remember that you ever existed the moment you die, so at least know that your memory will be kept by me, the one who triumphed so easily over you." Veneficus said, leaning over the fallen hybrid.
"You are now nothing! Avada Kedavera!" he exclaimed, and a massive green bolt shot from the wand, striking the figure beneath Veneficus, and the strange hybrid creature died.
Diábolis blinked. He could have sworn that he knew something about the man who had just been killed, a name at the least, but all of a sudden it was a blur. He was straining his mind to even recall why he had come back to the Imperial Palace in the first place.
There was something that was a threat to the Empire, but he couldn't place the exact focus of that threat.
"Any now he is no more…" Veneficus said, and the triumph surging through the Force was palpable.
The Sith Master stopped, shifting on his feet poorly, and almost instinctually his hand plunged into his robes, withdrawing a vial of blood-red liquid, and pressing it to his lips. There was a pause, and then the eyes of the Emperor turned toward Diábolis, even as the Apprentice witnessed the clear injuries in his master vanish completely.
That was the secret. Veneficus had found a means of immortality, and it confirmed everything that he had learned from the end of the war with the Republic to now. Veneficus wanted to eliminate him and rule forever himself.
"You will take the fight back to the rebels, and discover their hidden base… kill them, and destroy the last remnant of any resistance to my Empire, Lord Diábolis." Veneficus said scathingly, as though daring the Devaronian to challenge his authority.
"Yes, my Master," Diábolis responded automatically, his mind already spiraling away with a myriad of thoughts as to how this little piece of information would spell the doom for one or the other of them. This was the key to eliminating his master. Veneficus was not immortal, but he could heal any wound, any disease, any corruption of the Dark Side.
But if he could destroy or separate the Emperor from that source of life, and the man would become mortal once more, and then it was just overpowering his formidable skill in battle and in the Force.
That, at the least, was an obstacle that he could strive toward overcoming, now that he knew the lynchpin that would spell the doom of Veneficus.
But that was also dependant on his own survival through to that point. Even as Diábolis departed his master's presence swiftly, he could sense the flow of the Dark Side clinging to him, as though the Emperor was withholding himself from destroying his apprentice right then and there.
It was a miracle that he made it to his personal shuttle in one piece. However, he was suddenly aware that it was highly likely that his master, now knowing that Diábolis knew the secret of his immortality, would sense assassins to directly challenge the other Sith for his life.
It was what he would do in the same position as his master, and even as he settled into his personal quarters of the shuttle, as it taxied them back into orbit and he awaiting fleet, he sought to center himself once more in the embrace of the Dark Side, and prepare for whatever surprises awaited him when Veneficus finally made his move to destroy his own apprentice and take command of the Galaxy for himself, for all time.
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Ist couldn't have felt better about their situation than when the group reached the opposite end of the cave network and found it unguarded.
The Republic troopers had by now removed their helmets, and the lieutenant, a Twi'lek named Jezhala, just returned from scouting the area with a small squad. Ist would have gone with them, but the troopers had all but forced her to remain behind and have her injury more closely looked at.
"What news?" she asked; therefore, as the lieutenant approached.
"The shuttle is just where you said it was," Jezhala reported, lekku twitching slightly after being cramped into the republic helmet for so long, "fully fueled and ready to go, but there's a problem."
"What is it?" Ist asked, even as the Twi'lek pulled a holoprojector out of his belt, activating it to show a tactical map of the area. "not only has the outpost been recaptured by the Empire, the anti-air gun is active once more, meaning we wouldn't get over the cloud line before we were shot down, and the nearest clear spot would have us flying for nearly fifty kilometers."
"We'd be spotted and chased before getting that far," Ist surmised, and Jezhala nodded.
"However, there was a recorded message waiting for us at the shuttle, that might offer a bit of help, albeit unexpected." He added, pulling out a communicator and activating it.
The voice was unrecognizable to Ist, but it was oddly familiar to her somehow, "This is Operative Shade to any Rebel or Republic forces, the system of Ord Mantel has been quarantined by the Empire, in order to capture and eliminate any forces left on its surface. If you are hearing this, and need to escape, I have set up a small base in the mountains at these coordinates. Find me and I will get you off planet and back into the fight. The Empire will fall, and we will be the fire that burns them down. May the Force be with you. Shade out."
"It sounds too good to be true, but I figured your opinion might be more valuable if you know this Operative by any chance." Jezhala said, even as Ist nodded.
"I do know of this person, although no one in the Rebellion has met him or her," she affirmed, "I think, regardless of whether we can fully trust Shade or not, it's our best hope of getting off the planet. How far are these mountains?" she asked, and Jezhala indicated on the tactical map.
"Just twenty kilometers north of us." He said, pointing at the large rise above their position. "it would take us away from the outpost, and not in a direction that has another Imperial position for a good range around it, so it is a suitable position to hold up at the worst."
"I suggest that we go there," Ist said, feeling something good about it in her gut. "at the worst it's a base camp we can make to plan our next move, and as you said, it's well away from any Imperial locations."
"As you wish, Commander," Jezhala said, motioning at his supporting officer, Sergeant Stecale and Corporal Togo, to get the rest of the troopers up and ready to move A.S.A.P.
But even as they moved out, Ist felt another strange sense of foreboding, "odd," she said, looking about, "why would the Empire give up looking for us so easily?"
"I don't like thinking about it myself," Togo said, the Zabrak passing by her as he guarded a company of technicians, "it's downright eerie on this planet now that the fighting has more or less stopped."
Ist couldn't help but agree. Still, they arrived back at the shuttle without any confrontation, real or imagined, and Ist quickly saw to their takeoff and plotted their course toward the mountains. They had to keep low to the treetops, in order to avoid any sensor sweeps that might be going across the surface from the ships in orbit, but they were able to make good time.
As they traveled, Ist searched through the originally message that had been caught in the frequency for the shuttle, and back traced the original dispenser for the signal, and was able to reverse a short burst message indicating that they were on their way, and some means of knowing where to land would be appreciated.
She wasn't sure if the message had been received, but as they drew closer to the exact coordinates a small section of the mountains suddenly lit up with high powered lights. "I suppose that is where we need to head toward," Sergeant Romacor Stecale said, who was the only trained pilot in the group outside of Ist herself, who was serving as copilot.
"We better land quickly, before those lights attract the attention of the Imperial forces." Ist said, hitting a few of the controls that shifted power to the engines so that they could travel faster.
That cut the time it would take to reach their designating landing zone the rocks perfectly hid the ship from view, and activating the localized jamming signal would scramble any signal that would I've away the presence of their ship to a casual scan.
Disembarking from the shuttle, Ist was rather uneasy about the whole situation, even as the carefully laid path took them deeper into the mountain, and slowly an entire complex was unveiled, and yet there was no one around.
"Hello?" Ist called, sweeping the area with the Force, trying to locate the person that had summoned them here.
"I was checking whether you were followed or not," a voice said to the side, and they all turned sharply, some of the troopers raising their weapons in their surprise.
The figure was shrouded in heavy black armor and a dark cloak, the only thing that Ist could physically see was a gleaming green gem in the center of the chest plate. What was odd about that was that Ist couldn't sense the figure in the Force at all, not even a void where the presence was hidden, just complete invisibility.
"Operative Shade?" she asked, taking a step closer.
"Yes," the figure affirmed, stepping into the light and lowering the hood, revealing a full facemask that was so familiar to anyone in the Rebellion that had seen the Operative's transmissions.
"I see that you received my message about the lights," Ist commented, and the masked figure shrugged.
"I was something of a rush job, but I got it done," The unknown being stated. "Since sending away all on my operatives, things have gotten a bit harder, but that won't matter for long. The Empire has won here, and you and your rebels have seen well to removing the Republic forces I was assisting from the shadows."
"About that," Ist said, diving headlong into the reason that they had come, "you say that you have a method of leaving the planet without the Empire interfering?"
"I may have recently acquired a group of Imperial shuttles, which through my connections have not been declared missing or had their codes revoked yet. My associates already took most of them, but I have a pair left that I intend to take tomorrow and flee to another planet and start once again with my network."
"The rebellion is starting a new base, one that isn't as strictly screened for who can come participate there, I'm sure that Director Granger would be more than grateful for your show of support with your shadow network being established there…" Ist offered.
"That would actually be extremely helpful for me, if my central base wasn't constantly on the move," Shade said, turning back to Ist, "I accept, you may take use of my shuttles, so long as me and the last of my equipment come with you."
"Show us to what it is you need, and we'll get them loaded as quickly as possible. The sooner were off this planet and heading back to base, the better." Ist offered.
"I'll hold you to that…" Shade replied, "but after I reveal this next piece of information that I received before I took down the network, I wonder if you'll want to come with us…"
Ist raised an eyebrow, but said nothing.
Taking that as indication to continue, Shade spoke again, "news reached me regarding the planet Dathomir, currently one of the greater strongholds of the Empire. Someone, or something, powerful is threatening the training facilities on the planet, and disrupting the Imperial control of the planet. The High Prophet of the planet has yet to inform the Dark Council, as far as I know, but it is a serious threat. There is a small clip of video that my spy was able to get before needing to withdraw."
The figure offered a small datapad, and Ist took it. Confused as to why this might affect her, she activated it, before her eyebrows shot up. It was a short clip of Sith assassins, fighting and losing against a shrouded figure, but the other was wielding a purple lightsaber.
"Last I heard, this ghost of Dathomir has racked up a massive body count, and there is a bounty on their head where the High Prophet has sworn to take upon the slayer as her personal apprentice. It doesn't help that her previous one died trying to kill the ghost, as well as the three subsequent apprentices."
"You think it's a lost Jedi?" Ist asked, looking up and handing back the datapad.
"What do you think?" Shade retorted, and Ist didn't need the Force to sense the smirk behind the mask.
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Zhar couldn't have been more proud of his apprentice, then when he was able to watch Supreme Prophet Feyd give her a medal of honor for slaying the enemy commander that had launched the vile terrorist attack of New Kaas City. In full view of the entire populace, the ceremony had the decorum that attended the majesty of the Emperor, although the man himself was naturally absent.
Sensing the writhing anger of the Supreme Prophet's own apprentice was just the cream atop their achievement. Knowing the young Mirilian was so easily agitated against his apprentice set in motion the events that would define the future downfall of his future, and the rising of Euka as the potential new Supreme Prophet.
Zhar accepted that he would not reign in that particular role, and he was alright with that fate, so long as he was indispensible until he was satisfied with his life, and was ready at last to die. For now however, together he and Euka would continue to make sure that they were protected against the madness that plagued the Empire, from the top down, and were more than prepared for the worse to come when it did.
One thing was odd; however, and Zhar longed to know the exact reasoning behind it. For some particular reason, he could remember that his apprentice had eliminated Srenmivu, the leader of this Force-wielding terrorist group, but he could have sworn that they were part of something bigger that had threatened the Empire as a whole.
Even the idea that they had a leader over the one slain seemed to be slippery, and something that he couldn't force his mind to recall. It led to a small amount of concern that his mind might at last be slipping in his old age.
Euka approached him, standing at his side as the entirety of the populace of the Imperial Capital cheered for their defenders, "And now back to dusty Korriban to continue our plots for survival?"
"Indeed so, but let's say no more regarding that for the time being," Zhar affirmed, smiling falsely to the crowd and waving.
Soon enough the speeches of the Supreme Prophet and the celebration of those involved in protecting the city died down, and they were escorted back into the Dromund Kaas Palace, but Zhar and Euka held back from joining to deeply into the festivities.
"Something has always bothered me about all of this," Euka said, when they had another rprivate moment, away from the other attendees, "why would the Emperor be so quick to depart from actively participating as Head of State, so soon after the war that won our enemy's capital? Wouldn't it have been more realistic for him to increase his view of the public, and slowly withdraw over time rather than immediately?"
"That is something I've asked myself every day since that time," Zhar agreed, glancing around their sheltered corner of the ballroom, making sure they were not overheard, "I suspect that there was a plethora of ulterior motives for the Emperor in claiming the Jedi Temple, least of all not being the vast Holocron library that the Jedi kept, of both Jedi and Sith teaching hoarded over the years."
"That's would explain why the man always keeps to himself down in those vaults, but what possibly could he be searching for?" Euka asked.
"I think we, of all the ranking members of the higharchy, are in the best possible positions to find out…" Zhar replied, looking pointedly at Euka, who raised her eyebrows in understanding.
"So you haven't just been toiling useless on that rock," she said, smirking at the brilliance of Zhar secret, "you've been looking for answers to what the Sith desire above all else…"
The High Prophet held up a hand, forestalling their conversation as a group of Adepts passed by them, speaking loudly and partaking liberally of the offered drink at the party.
"Yes, that exactly," he said, once they were alone once again, "and now that I have completely ascertained your loyalty to my side of this plight, you will aid me, in ways you have only yet begun to understand."
"Of course, my Master," she said humbly, but her eyes flashed with sparks of excitement and greed. "Do we seek to only find whatever he is searching for, or claim it for ourselves?"
"We do what the Dark Side teaches us…" Zhar said, setting aside the one glass that he had taken for himself, and starting for the exit, "We survive…"
Departing swiftly, Zhar hit the small button on his comlink, signaling for their shuttle to prepare.