Chapter 33 - Confessions

Takodana

The Jedi Temple

The calm evening night settled into something of a soothing balm amidst the flowing reports of violins stringing their soft chorus in tandem with the soft chirping and hoots of the wildlife baying to the approaching moon. Moments later, the soft soprano of an operatic Twi'lek slowly uplifted the theatre house, rising in tandem with the growing chorus of the accompanying orchestra playing to the Ryl tale of loss, tragedy and redemption.

Skillfully, the beautiful singer captured the hearts and ears of all those witnessing the broadcast, her splendid radiant cornflower form contrasted sharply as the camera panned from left to right, bringing the gas giant of Yavin into the foreground. Slowly, the chorus increased its pace, the soprano growing in conjunction almost to the point of cracking.

Yet, the veteran of the form kept a slow and careful pace to her voice, the twists of her tale reflected in the changing patterns of her vocals. She reached her hands up to the heavens, falling to her knees as the story reach its zenith of grief, the singers' eyes even coming to close to tears as she swept herself back to her feet in one smooth motion.

Now the scraping of the violins increased; a chase in the underworld and her voice soon matched this sudden pace with an equal sudden snap of her vocals. The recording suddenly stopped.

"Oh come on!" Jacen Shrike, Commandant of Antarian Rangers, exclaimed bitterly; unintentionally biting down too hard on his pipe and coughing up dragonsfire in a splutter, "Why'd you stop? It was getting interesting!"

"Vraiment?" a Ryl voice asked from his elbow, "You didn't notice at all?"

Jacen grunted, swinging his chair over to look at the holographic projection of the same singer sitting in the chair across from him. "Notice what exactly?"

"The pitch was wrong, mon amour," she snorted, slamming her fist into the armchair, "it sounded horrible!"

"So you say," Jacen grinned as he took another puff of his pipe, "it sounded fine to me."

"Yes well, my worst still sounds wonderous to you. Jacen, please be objective."

"Cheri, I am being objective… as much as someone who can't sing can be. Look, I've heard you string tales written by plebeians into something spectacular. That's your gift."

"A gift is only as good as one continues to sharpen it," she smiled, "you would know this. What, with you always digging around in other people's business."

"Yeah well, you were there for half of it, Aya," Jacen grinned back, burying the smoke in his lungs with a shot of Gaelan Scotch.

"So any luck with that horrible book?" she asked, shifting her position slightly in her chair, resting her chin on her arms.

"Yeah," he sighed, "got tired though. Why do you think I called you up from Ruusan?"

"Oh? I thought you just missed me?" she said with a playful heartache.

"Who says I don't? I just don't like reading through the testimonies of a bunch of egotistical, genocidal pseudo-philosophers."

"Oh come now, you've certainly read through the works of egotistical, genocidal pseudo-philosophers before."

"Not pseudo-philosophers. Okay, fine. Grakkus the Hutt was one, but he didn't have concept of actually puttin' his drivel to pen. Kinda glad he didn't, his writing would probably make me puke."

"I'll take that over his arena of rancors, ackleys and reeks, oh my."

"Nah, that's just straight forward. These guys, though? Trying to decipher their drivel is like pulling teeth from a wookie."

"You don't seem to be missing any arms though."

"Oh har har har. Don't get me started on the supplemental notes. At least with the main edition, our gloriously-murdered ex-galactic monarch had the good sense to only put down what was relevant."

"Oh, so he did achieve some good, then?"

"Yeah, well that's ruined by him being like every other schmuck and putting footnotes in the actual book like some pampered college brat."

"Oh, here we go," she sighed dramatically, "you on and on about people putting their horrible thoughts down in that horrible book. Surely, it gives insight into the horrible minds of horribles bâtards."

"Aya, you try and read through Vader's self-righteous crap about needin' to burn down the Temple to save lives. Uggh, at least Ahsoka had the good sense to put her own thoughts below his and call it what it is. Y'know, that's actually the worst part about these folks."

"Their sanctimonious belief that they are absolutely right?" she grinned salaciously, "Come now, mon amour, at least they're not monologing."

"Aya, they are monologing. It might as well be the prepared speech the big bad baddie says at the end of a bad holo-flick. Y'know, speeches with cold calculations about order and needing to put down the weak, and yada yada yada," he snorted with another drink, "drivel. Tells you something, don't it?"

"Oh, that they lack imagination? That they're lives are miserable, and their childhoods terrible? Please, I had a miserable life and a terrible childhood, and here I am."

"Yeah well, you're different, Aya. Actually know how to move on and focus on what's important in life."

"Oh?" she grinned slyly, inching slowly forward in her chair, "And what is important in my life, husband?"

"That you're a fine singer, and you don't need to beat yourself over it."

"Ha. And what about you?" her face suddenly grew uncharacteristically dour, "I heard about what happened to Lor San."

"Yeah," he answered in a soft whisper, downing the rest of the scotch, "another body bag."

"Jacen," she soothed, her holographic hand touching his arm, "what happened to the professor was not your fault."

"Tell that to the dead, Aya. Lor San was on that planet because I put him there. And this?" he gestured his hands all around the aged stone of the Temple, "This is my doing. All of it."

"It's not simple, and you know it, mon amour. We were placed in a bad place where the only way out was through worse. You know this."

"No excuse," he closed his eyes and pulled his pipe from his mouth before he had the urge to bite into it again, "never is."

She nodded sadly, "Have you thought about what you're going to say to Han?"

"Yeah," he nodded, "and he's standing right behind me."

The Twi'lek spun in her chair, and there he was, looking expectantly at the two of them from the archway. She nodded softly and offered a kiss on her husband's cheek. He smiled at her, his craggy face becoming hard in that moment. "Thanks. See you soon, Cheri," and then she was gone.

"So," the spy-master called, "how long were you standing there?"

"Long enough," Han replied, "where's my son?"

"If I had to guess, probably looking for us right now."

There was an uncomfortable silence that followed; like a lead weight bearing down on the room. Jacen didn't bother turning around as Han's footsteps echoed over the cobblestone, coming to stare out at the forest below.

"How long?" Han asked, his voice unreadable in that moment.

"Since Antiga, he volunteered to infiltrate the red blades ranks after Master Tano was killed and Kali went missing."

That made Han spin around, his eyes suddenly hard and venomous like a coiling snake. "And you sent my boy in there, alone?"

"I didn't send him, Han," Jacen shook his head, "he went alone, right after his master's funeral. He told me to expect communications from him."

"And you let him," Han growled, "you let my son go into a rancor pit, and you didn't even try to stop him."

"Han, he's a Skywalker and a Solo. You really expect me to stop him from doin' something he was hellbent to do?" he shook his head, "But you're right, I didn't try to stop him."

Han leaned against the bannister, his right hand going to his belt as his face contorted into a barely controlled snarl. "Why him?" he managed evenly.

"Because I didn't have any other alternative, Han," Jacen replied, rising to his feet and carefully moving away from the chair, "because we've been playing catch-up for the past thirty years and our enemies have at most a sixty year head start."

"You said 'I,'" Han interrupted, "did you sanction this mission on your own, without the Council's approval?"

Jacen replied was immediate. "Yes, I did. The Council didn't find out until after, just before the attack here happened."

Han stared at him for a long moment, his eyes a mixture of confusion, disbelief and then rage. Han Solo was the quickest draw in the galaxy, and that translated into the blur of motion that saw the Commandant slammed against a wall.

"You sent my boy in there alone!" he snarled, his eyes flaring dangerously, "And what? You thought revenge would keep him steady? He isn't one of your little agents, Shrike. He was my son, and you damned him!"

"I know," Jacen replied evenly despite the fact his head was ringing like a drum, "I let your son go to the enemy because I thought it was our one chance to make things right."

"Yeah, and look how that turned out."

He shook his head, "You don't need to remind me. I've accepted the fact that everything that has happened has been my doing. That my best friend is dead because of it. Believe me, I'll carry that to the day I die… and probably after."

Han stared at him for a long moment, unsure of what to do or say. In the end, all he could do was release his lapels and step away. He shook his head, running his hands through his hair as he stared at the floor; his face a million emotions all running at lightspeed.

"So you think he is this… Kylo Ren?" Han barely got it out, "That he betrayed everyone? That he killed Lor San?"

"Yes," he sighed, fixing his coat, "I do. Given Finn's description."

"Why?"

The two men turned to find Rey at the archway, her face on the verge of falling to pieces like a crumbling mirror. Han's heart sank at the sight of her, and he immediately beckoned her over to take her into his arms, but she shook her head.

"Why?" she asked again.

"Why what?" Jacen asked after a moment, "Why Cale murdered Lor San, or why I let him go?"

"Both," she whispered.

"If what Finn said is true, then he gave him a mercy compared to what the First Order would've done to him."

"Mercy?" Han snorted, "You call my son being a murderer a mercy?"

"Yes Han, I do," Jacen suddenly growled, "because I know what these people could do. I've been playing the spy game since before they ran into the Unknown Regions to play dress up. They would've broken him, and if they couldn't, then they would've done worse than a lightsaber to the chest. So believe me, what Cale did was a mercy. As much as it pains me to say that."

"Sure," Han scoff, "coming from the same man who threw the head of Chimera out a window instead of making him stand trial for what he did to the Jedi."

"You still don't get it, you two bit smuggler," Jacen growled, "the man would've walked. We had his entire organization dead to rights, but the bastard was slippery enough to make sure his name and his face was never on anything. Hell, I went there that night with a warrant in my pocket just hoping to get him to crack, and he just laughed. He'd walk, and he'd start the whole thing over again, and there was nothing I nor the law could do about it. So, I did the one thing that nobody, not you and certainly not Luke, would do. He went out the window."

"So what? You just get to decide what's best for everybody? Including sending my boy into a mynok nest full of psychopaths?"

"I didn't send him, Han. I let him go."

"And what did you think was gonna happen? Did it not occur to you what they would do to him? What they would turn him into?"

"Of course I did. I knew the risk. Hell, it took Lor San to convince the rest of the Council not to throw me under the grav-train after they found out."

"So he knew, then?" Han poised, hurt clear in his eyes and clearer in his voice, "Luke knew all along where my boy was?"

"He had nothing to do with it, Han. I made the decision alone because I knew he would never have been able to keep this secret from you or your wife, and I knew that if you two knew, it would compromise him."

"You think I would betray my own son!?" Han snarled, curling his hands into fists.

"Oh for the love of the Force, Han, wake up. We're dealing with an enemy that's had a headstart on us since before the Old Republic fell. They would've found out! I made the hard call because no one else would!"

"That's no excuse. Luke should have made you step down."

"Maybe he still will when this is over."

"How do you know he's not dead?" Rey asked suddenly, imploringly, "How do you know that he and the rest of Council aren't dead? It's been three years now!"

"Rey dear, if the Sith had gotten a hold on them, we would know. Besides, this is Luke Skywalker we're talking about, remember? Until today, I didn't think there was anyone who'd take him on and actually win."

"Today?" she asked, "What do you mean by that?"

"What I mean is this," he reached into his coat pocket, pulling out a leatherbound red book that Han almost mistook for a ledger it it weren't for the strange symbol on its cover.

"What is that?" he asked.

"That's…" Rey voice quavered a moment, "that's the book of the Sith, isn't it?"

"Yeah. The Monarch's copy itself. Plus a couple other things Lor San decided to stick in there for simplicity's sake. Luke's wife pulled it from Palpatine's storehouse on Wayland back when she defected to us."

"Palpatine? What's that scrotum face despot got to do with any of this?" Han asked, crossing his arms.

"Everything," Jacen said grimly, gesturing with the book, "it's a collection of the accounts of every grandioused psychopath who ever picked up the title of Darth, Emperor or whatever else they took a fancy to since Marka Ragnos decided to put his thoughts down."

"Oh stars," Rey groaned, "I thought I'd never have to hear his name since that damn cult tried to resurrect him on Korriban."

"Yeah well, you know the saying: evil never dies, it evolves."

"You still haven't answered my question," Han interrupted. Jacen sighed and gestured Rey over, handing her the book.

"Kiddo, do us a favor and turn to page 150. Read the thing that's highlighted."

She nodded, but found the irresistible urge to thumb through the tome first. A dozen terrible names soon came forth. Sorus Syn, Malgus, Bane, Zahanna, Mother Talzin, Plagueis, Sidious, Lumiya; all had something to say within the preserved pages of the book.

She even found a manuscript penned by Darth Vader himself on Kaminoan process paper, and she stopped a moment when she found Master Tano's footnotes scribbled there. At first, she thought it must've been after the book had been taken to the Jedi by Mara. That made sense considering her's, Lor San's and even Luke's own footnotes were also included.

However, she came to a different conclusion as she ran her fingers over the blue ink. It felt older, somehow. She shook her head. Cale's master had never talked about her time under Vader's forced tutelage before she went to hunt down Exar Kun in the Unknown Regions. Reading over the apoplectic espousings of authoritarian rule and the importance of order and loyalty in the galaxy, she wasn't surprised. It practically read like Vader shaking his fist at the Emperor.

"Ahem," she heard Master Shrike cough, "page 150, if you please."

"Sorry," and she flipped to the fifth page of Sidious' first book, The Weakness of Inferiors. Under the subtitle The Useful Bureaucrats, she found the highlighted passage and began to read:

"My Master, Darth Plagueis, developed an obsession with midi-chlorians, neglecting his greatest talent-manipulating the strings that kept the galaxy from degenerating into anarchy. As a key figure in the InterGalactic Banking Clan, he was well acquainted with the business leaders and politicians who shaped the very galaxy-yet for all their power, not one of them was recognizable to general citizens."

Han shook his head, "So he was scrotum's master. What's that got to do with anything?"

"Rey, go to page 159. Read the highlighted section there."

She did so, turning to the second page of the third book The Manipulation of Life. She began to read aloud:

"I will achieve immortality. Even if I am killed, I will return from the chaos of nonbeing to restored physical life. This, even my Master could not achieve. I knew it was so when I halted his breathing and watched the light vanish from his eyes. He sought the secret of life, to live forever, but I took his life. I remain the ultimate Sith."

Rey's eyes suddenly flashed with understanding, "Are you saying that the leader of the First Order is Plagueis?"

"Not just me," Jacen replied, "Lor San started the research. I just picked it up when he went digging in the desert."

"Now wait just a second," Han interrupted, "first, we have no way of knowing if these two are even the same person. Second, even if he was, he'd have to be, what? Two, three centuries old? Demask is supposed to be a Muun, and even he would ancient by their standards. Third, Palpatine said he killed him."

"You're right. We had no way of proving Hego Demask and Darth Plagueis were one and the same. In fact, all we did know is that he was the head chairman of the Banking Clan prior to the Battle of Naboo, and that all records of him were either destroyed or sealed somewhere we would never find them. Until today, that is."

"Finn's testimony," Rey concluded.

"Yes. That was the final piece of the puzzle. Hego Demask, a former Muun Banker who completely dropped off the proverbial radar only to reappear commanding a secret Empire. Who claims to have been betrayed by Palpatine himself."

"Of which he admits himself," Han nodded, "okay, so how do you explain him coming back to life?"

Rey provided the answer this time, "It's actually here in the book too. Plagueis' own notes about his experiments with midi-chlorian manipulation."

"What kind of experiments?" Han asked, "Also what the hell is a midi-chlorian?".

"Resurrection," Jacen answered, "as for that, well to put it really simply, it's just a microscopic organism that helps us mortals communicate with the Force, as well as being necessary for keeping all life as we know it, well, kicking."

That instantly remind Han of the crazy wizard Ben trying to teach Luke how to deflect blaster bolts on the Falcon. What was it he had said? He wondered, A Jedi could feel the Force flowing through him?

He cracked a wry smile, "Uh huh. Wait a minute, are you trying to say that since this guy has the ability to control these things? That he basically has the power over life itself?"

"Got it in one," Jacen nodded, "which brings things to Lor San's theory, and by extension, mine. Palpatine attempts to kill his master, who survives and uses his wealth and influence to go into hiding. Then, I dunno, he gets bored or something, and decides to use that wealth to build his own empire."

"Then what? Gives it to the remnants when they come screaming from Jakku?" Han asked incredulously.

"That is what Finn basically said," Rey countered, "and it explains how the remnant got so powerful in less than thirty years, and where these Knights of Ren come from."

"Yup," Jacen replied wearily, lighting his pipe again, "basically, we've got a machiavellian puppeteer, with super powers to top it off, gunning for us."

Han's eyes narrowed at that moment, "When you let my son go undercover, did you know all this?"

"Some. Like I said, it took Finn's testimony to put the full puzzle together."

Han nodded slowly, his eyes growing cold, "Then you knowingly sent my son into the same situation his grandfather went through. You knowingly damned my son."

"Sure I did," Jacen snorted, "because this bastard has been hounding us since the Battle of Jakku. Hell, probably even before."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"Doesn't it seem rather convenient how many things have been out to kill us, seem to happen one after the other? Lumiya's Sith terrorists, the Chimera Crises? A death cult trying resurrect a long dead Sith Lord followed by a war that solidifies Zhan and the Hutt's holdings in the Outer Rim? The War for Antiga?"

"Even the Black Fleet?"

"No," he shook his head, "that was its own thing. The Duscan League was never on good terms with the remnants, and I seriously doubt they'd just loan their fleet of dreadnoughts to some guy they owe no allegiance to."

"Still, I think you get where I'm getting at," Han said incredulously, "one man couldn't do all that."

"Palpatine did. And ironically, it goes right back to the monarch himself."

"How?" Rey asked.

"Right around the time Kanan and his merry band hooked up with us on Jakku, we discovered the Emperor had been murdered."

"By Vader?" Rey asked confused.

"No. Remember how Palpatine said he achieved immortality? He did it by sticking his conscience into clones of himself on the fortress world of Byss."

"Oh come on," Han scoffed, "now you're saying these guys can swap souls?"

"Yes, it's called Essence Transfer, but that's beside the point. Less than a few months earlier, someone went to Byss and killed not only Palpatine, but every single one of his clones. Hell, what was left of the Inquisition thought it was us who did it."

"So you think it was Plagueis?" Rey concluded, "The one who killed Palpatine again."

"Dear, there was exactly one other person at the time with the stones to get the drop on Palpatine and that was Luke. He obviously didn't do it."

"So, revenge then?" Han interpreted.

"Maybe. But I think it might've been more so to remove Palpatine from the board, get him out of the way. Good thing too, otherwise we'd be going round two with Sidious. The documents we managed to pull from Byss all talk about something called the 'Dark Empire' and 'Operation Shadow Hand.' No idea what those pertain to, but they don't sound pleasant."

"Foreboding," Han nodded, "maybe when we can thank Plagueis after we kill him."

"Master Shrike, you mentioned earlier that when Cale went under, he started sending you messages. Is he… still doing so?"

Jacen could see the faint glimpse of hope in her eyes, and it pained him to squash it. "No. He stopped almost three months before he betrayed us to the enemy."

"But why?" Han asked, shaking his head, "Why would he betray everyone he ever cared about?"

"I don't know," Jacen sighed, "maybe we never will. Regardless, he's now working for the enemy, and when he eventually finds us, then we need to be ready for him."

"Ready for him?" Han asked accusingly, "This is my son we're talking about."

"Yeah, the very same son who sold us out, and killed a member of the council."

"I thought we just established he did that to keep Lor San from the enemy?"

"He still killed the man," Jacen growled, "he made the choice to cut off communications with me. Why would he do that if he hadn't gone over to the other side?"

"What if…" Rey shook her head, "what if he's still doing his mission? What if he didn't have a choice in the matter? What if he can't contact you?"

"No offense, Knight, but that's a lot of what if's with no proof to back it up."

"He turned the defenses back on."

Han and Jacen looked at her as though she suddenly gone mad. "What are you talking about?" Han asked.

"It's… complicated," she sighed, "Master Shrike, do you remember what Master Tekka said about this place? That the barrier between the material and ethereal planes is much thinner here than almost everywhere else?"

"Yes, but what-oh. I get it."

"What?" Han asked.

"I received a vision," she answered, "I didn't understand it at first. I mean, I saw myself and everyone else back when we were kids. I saw my dad and…" she smiled for a moment before the rest came to be, "then it showed me the attack on the Temple, and I saw Cale."

"When?" Han inquired, urgency heavy in his voice, "You mean when he came to warn you?"

"No. When he shut off the Temple's power grid. He was just sitting there, in the control room watching everything happen."

"And you say he turned it back on?" Jacen concluded, "Why did he do it?"

"To save me," she bit her lip a moment and sighed, "but not just me. Master K'Kruck and Ti were trying to get the younglings out and they were trapped. He… he let us go. I heard him talking to someone, saying," she stopped, trying to remember exactly what he had said, "'I agreed to let you in. I didn't agree to let you butcher them. Besides, our work is done. The Jedi won't be able to stop what's coming.'"

"That doesn't sound like someone who's secretly helping us," Jacen began skeptically.

"It does considering he was talking to someone," Han countered, "and it means he isn't too far gone. If we could find him-"

"What? Talk him out of it?"

"Luke did it with his father, and he'd done far worse by that point."

"Yeah, and he almost died doing it."

"If that's what it takes," Han replied with pure conviction, "I will not abandon my son. Never."

"Han," Jacen sighed and shook his head, resting his forehead against his hand, "I want nothing more than that to be true. I want Rey to be right, and to see that the poster boy is still the poster boy. But we don't know that for sure, and right now there are bigger things at stake."

"There is something else," Rey whispered, "when I was in the control room, we were surrounded by the personnel and staff."

"Dead?" Jacen asked.

"No, alive. Unconscious."

"So he only kills when he has to," Han concluded. "that's not the mark of a cold blooded killer."

"They said the same thing about Anakin, back in the day," Jacen sighed, slumping back into his chair and taking a long drawl from his pipe, "and look where he ended up. Hero with no Fear turned into the Mailed Fist of the Empire."

"Cale is not his grandfather," Rey interjected, "I know he isn't."

"Are you willing to bet your life too, Knight? It may very well come to it."

Rey didn't answer, her eyes sliding to the floor as silent tears ran down her cheeks.

"I wasn't there when the Temple went down," Jacen said after a while, staring out into the wilderness beyond, "the old one, I mean, but I was there for everything after. I was one of the trillions who lived under the tyranny of Sidious, and for years I tried to stay away from the war. From the fight. But I learned a lesson during those years: that evil will triumph when good men do nothing."

He removed his pipe, staring once more at the the inscription at its base. 'To a friend,' it said, and he shook his head, "When Luke asked me to rebuild the Rangers, I made an oath that what happened to the Republic, to the Jedi, would never happen again. That I would do what was necessary, no matter how unseemly, to ensure that another Empire never rose. You asked me why I let your son go, Han. That's why. All I could see was my brother dying so I could live; that everyone I ever cared about being ripped from me because I lacked the will to act."

He shook his head at it all, "So I let your son go, hoping that his lust of vengeance would keep him on the straight and narrow. That maybe, just maybe, we could stamp out the fire of the Sith before it burned the whole damn galaxy down again. But all I did was," he gestured his hand all around, "this."

Han and Rey looked at each other, not sure what to say.

"I'm not asking for sympathy or forgiveness," he turned to face them, his eyes marked with certainty, "I'm asking you to prove me wrong. I'm asking you to be better than me."

"Cale's my son," Han replied, "and whatever it takes, I will get him back. Come Hell or a black hole."

"Hopefully neither," Rey whispered, "I'm tired of losing fathers."

"I'm not going anywhere, kiddo," Han smiled as he placed his hand on her shoulder, squeezing it tightly.

"Which brings us ironically to you, Knight," Jacen nodded, "you know your duty now, don't you?"

"Pass on what I've learned."

"The galaxy needs the Jedi, Rey. Everytime we ain't there to pick up the pieces, whole thing comes apart. Now I ain't asking you to start-"

"I already have actually."

"Finn?"

"Yes, and potentially someone else, too."

"I take it you've got a plan in the works?"

"Yes," she smiled simply, "I do."

"Then I'll give the all-clear for Finn to move about without an escort, but I will keep an eye on him."

"Fair enough."