Chapter 45 - The Seven Lords of Ren

Hyperspace

Providence-Class Cruiser Scarlet Night

Captain Sydow was, as per usual of the last several hours, particularly cross with the most recent request Kylo Ren had made of him. "Remind me again why you need a table this large? This is just a holo-conference."

"Tradition," Kylo Ren answered, "that is the simplest answer I can provide you. And this is not just a holo-conference, as you put it. This is a hosting of the Lords of Ren. That demands standards."

"You could just copy the Jedi and just have chairs. Wouldn't require me boys to dig one up and roll it in here."

"That defeats the purpose of us not being the Jedi, Captain. Besides, this is tame compared to the Throne World of Asukku. That table is made from Mustafarian basalt and even I can barely move it."

"Why do you need a table like that? Wait, don't tell me. Tradition."

Kylo shrugged, "Or just Praetor Ren being his usual bureaucratic self. Either answer works in my opinion."

"Noted. Now, can I go back to doin' my job?"

"No one is requiring you to stand around, Captain. I can manage any malcontents."

"And I have to manage the medical bill. Now, are you finished here?"

"Hmm," he pushed the table a bit over with the Force and then nodded.

"Have fun."

The door shut behind him as the lights dimmed and he pulled up a chair, eyeing the other empty six ringing the table. He sighed, "Yes, I am sure."

A minute later, the projector above flickered on, and holographic beams shot across the room to each of the individual chairs. One by one, they would be filled by the shimmering, opaque forms of his fellow Lords of Ren. When all six arrived, the meeting would begin.

"Lord Kylo," the first to arrive said, his accented voice thick with superiority, "how generous of you host this meeting."

"Lord Praetor," Kylo nodded. 'Always have to be the first, don't you?' he did not add, 'Political punctuality and all that.'

Indeed, the Lord of the Praetorian Guard was always first to a meeting he curated and second to any he was not. It was his way of projecting his importance. Even his silver segmented armor was freshly polished with every golden sigil, wreath and wolf head waxed to reflecting perfection. And of course, the man's purple cloak and ploom of animal hair dyed indigo and white all looked pressed and formal.

"One should take pride in one's appearance, Lord Kylo," Praetor said with the hint of a smirk, "if one fines fault in such a thing, perhaps they are looking for it in the wrong direction."

"Thanks for the wardrobe advice. Now where's your shadow?"

He gestured to his right, "Right here, of course."

He materialized a moment later. Praetor never attended these meetings without Hussar, Lord of Shadows, and the man looked to have been called from a hunt. His aura and irritable demeanor was enough to confirm that, but Kylo couldn't help but stare at his latest trophies. A fresh Wookie pelt lining his leather coat collar, the jawbone of some predator grafted into his gaunt helmet… and new lightsabers dangling from his belt.

He didn't recognize any of them. "I see you've been busy, Hussar."

"Indeed he has, Lord Kylo," Praetor answer, "performing the Master's good work."

"Yes, I'm sure."

Hussar glared at him from behind those red irises of his, crossing his arms to show he'd brought his gauntlet sabers. Kylo's head tilted slightly his hand resting just short of his crossguard.

"A pity we are not here in the flesh or in the arena," Praetor chuckled, "such a match would make for grand spectacle."

"That however, would be quite improper," another voice replied in a strained yet authoritative whisper, "nobility must set forth the proper ways of bearing, as is natural."

They all turned to the fourth of their company, glum as he always was. Kylo bowed his head in his presence, "Lord Bal'Win. A pleasure to see you again."

He returned the nod as he settled in his chair, "Quite, Lord Kylo. And perhaps on this occasion with a measure of correct timing."

Like with Hussar, Kylo couldn't help but stare at his humble attire and compare the difference to his contemporaries. Kylo had once seen the Lord of Strategy in his royal battle-armor, and it put Praetor's to shame. Yet he never wore it outside its intended purpose, instead always with simple white and gray robes that covered the full extent of his body. In truth, the only real physical sign of his kingship was his golden death mask, forlorn as the man who wore it.

"You ponder far too much on matters of trivial definition," Bal'win said, staring at him with those pained, piercingly blue eyes wrapped in sickly skin, "time is a precious commodity. I thought you took to that lesson."

"I'd say he has, but he's always had a funny way of showing that."

The woman's voice was soon matched in the form of a white mask, harsh in shape like a swooping-hawk. It gave the Lady of Vengeance an impression to match the name, as did the piercing crimson eyes and knifing Sith tattoos dotting the twi'lek's red skin.

"And you always have to talk behind my back, Lady Talon? I can answer my own questions, you know."

"But never well, though. That was never your forte."

"Ah, my friends, my friends," a harsh mechanical voice boomed jubilantly as he arrived, "why do I sense such incredulity? Where is your merriment? Such a meeting is such a painful rarity and should be cherished!"

"I would pray make the same comparison to your illustrious elucidations, Lord Mechos," Bal'Win chuckled, "I dare say it brings warmth to my vitality."

"Ah, then I say aspire to greater… elucidations, my friend!"

"Maybe you should've been a party announcer instead of an Archon, Mechos," Kylo Ren replied.

"A tempting proposition, my good son! But I will have to pass. Too much work to be done. Yes, far too much."

Kylo just shook his head at the walking contradiction that was the Lord of the Forge. The Talos Noble was always so damn cheerful, even when he wore the tightly pressed navy-blue uniform more akin to an officer than royalty. Though maybe that was the point. Since escaping genocide in another galaxy, his people had remained in a state of unending war. Perhaps humor was their only means of remaining sane.

Even Mechos, who was the third Archon to rule their Hegemony, didn't hold himself like a king. That much was even reflected in the plume war-helmet he wore. He could imagine a common Sarisai wearing it, if not for the elaborate gildings and the quality rebreather pumping in a higher concentration of oxygen.

In a way, Kylo respected him for that. He was was never separate from his people.

"Ah, before we begin this meeting proper, I must beg you a question!" he boomed, "The new war-droids we provided for our benefactors? The Reapers, as they call them? How did they fare, my good son? Exemplary, I hope."

"Well enough. One took a lightsaber to the chest and didn't feel anything."

"It's a droid, Kylo," Talon deadpanned, "that's kind of the point."

"And that is where you are mistaken, my dear! The great Ether resides in all, especially in the immaterial. All feel measures of pain and joy, just as you and I do!"

"Mechos, it's the Force. That is literally what it is called, and it does not flow in robots."

"Immaterial! The Ether resides in all! Were it not, our gifts would not be bestowed upon you! Do well to remember this, my dear."

"A curious trait I never understood about you, Mechos," Praetor observed, "you have an overstated sense of importance, and you even take pride in it. Curious for a smithie."

"Praetor," Bal'Win whispered, glaring at him, "there is an utterance the Lady Talon once bestowed upon me. I believe it is in the context of a basin calling a gallipot black."

"Ha!" Talon chuckled, "Close enough, old man."

"Humorous," Praetor snorted, "and I notice that our seventh has yet to arrive. Our meeting cannot begin without her."

"Bah!" Mechos grunted, "Let the witch be as late as long as she wishes. Perhaps she is chasing yet another farflung fable!"

"Chase? I think not. I have caught what I have been looking for," a voice with siren's grace answered as it took physical form, "I am merely fashionably late."

Mechos jutted a mechanical finger at her, "A shame, then. Perhaps it should've consumed you and died of rot. By causality, of course."

"And perhaps you should chance upon a dreadful accident within your great forges. I can actually imagine you making a great statue. By causality, of course."

Before the usual argument could escalate further, Kylo rose to his feet and slammed his palm into the table to bring the matter to hand. "I call this meeting to court. Lady Typhaen, since you have arrived bearing news, speak of what you have found."

The Shii'do's emerald skin glowed jubilantly; the runes in her dragon mask and carapace sparkling with ancient magick as she answered. "I have discovered the Great Lyviathan in the Azure Arm in the outer reaches. I am bonding with it as we speak. In time, I will bend its mind to my will, and it shall serve us well."

"That is excellent news, Lady Typhaen," Praetor replied, "the Master will be greatly pleased. When shall you both be ready to take to the field?"

"In due time, Lord Praetor. This is a delicate matter that cannot be rushed for any reason."

On the other side of the table, Mechos fumed with absolute disgust. "You truly believe you can harness this abominable monster, Typhaen? It is an abhorrent abomination of the great enemy that nearly exterminated my people. It should be destroyed."

"Objection noted, and summarily ignored," Praetor dismissed, "the Master looks for every possible advantage in this war, and this is no exception."

Kylo turned to Praetor, "With respect, Lord Praetor, I would not dismiss his experience out of hand. Do we know if Lady Typhaen even has the capability to control this creature?"

"Oh ye of little faith, Lord Kylo. Do you doubt me?"

"Do I need a reason to?"

"No, you do not. I have conquered the secrets of the Yssalimir. Of the Dathomiri, the Gorgon, and all of the magicks of the Forebearers. This will be no different. In time, its mind and soul will be mine."

"I submit again the proclamation that this creature and all others like it should be wiped from the face of this galaxy," Mechos stated, "Only fools would dare hope in mastering the heretical arts of the anathemac ones."

"The Master encourages and demands progress in all fields. Mine is the study of the enemy your people were too weak to handle," Typhaen smirked, "the one you oh so bravely ran away from."

A silent rage took hold of the Archon of the Talos Hegemony, signified as four mechanical tentacles topped with the emitters of lightsabers appeared at every corner. Casually, Mechos took the nearest of these and began to tinker with it, his eyes never leaving Typhaen's.

"You're a child playing with fire, oh Queen of the Ferals. And like any fool who hasn't learned their lesson, it will end up eating you up. I dare say I might even be around to witness such a spectacle."

The Sith Shaman glared with an aura of indignant fury. Her honed and exotic body tensed with the effort of attempting to subvert it, though her skin radiated from the superlative emotion. Then at the climax, her arm began to transmute. Skin, muscle and fiber shifted unnaturally into rows upon rows of reptilian scales, the fingers tipped with obsidian talons sharp enough to rend steel.

Her lip curled into a cruel smile as she brought them up for inspection. "Perhaps you should be reminded of your own analogy, Far Outsider. After all, your own fetishes could very well be your undoing, as well as mine as you so generously put."

"Lord Kylo," Bal'Win suddenly said, "you called this meeting to court. I expect the reason for which to be expressed in a timely matter."

"If the current matter is adjourned?" Kylo asked, glaring at the two antagonistic parties. Reluctantly, they withdrew their provocations and nodded. He continued, "our mission to Takodana was a success. We have the final piece."

Mechos glowed at that, forgetting his murderous mood. "Then the Forge is ours?"

"As soon as we return, our cartographers put the map together, and I go out to claim it."

"Lord Mechos will be accompanying you, then," Praetor commanded, "as the records suggest, he will be needed to communicate with the ancient networks of the station."

"I would have it no other way!" Mechos laughed, "This truly will be a day long remembered in the Parables of the Talos!"

"Yes, and if I may speak rather casually," Talon commented, "I suppose that makes your title a little more literal now."

"But of course, and a great honor it shall be! The Rakata were true artisans to their craft. I shall indear to unlocking their secrets and building upon them!"

"Yes, the secrets of a bunch of cannibalistic savages who built their empire off the backs of slaves."

"An unfortunate candor you must recollect, Lady Talon," Bal'Win replied softly, "slaves, serfs and workers are the basis from which all society in one form to the next are birthed and built, as detestable as that is. This cannot be denied in its verity, nor can it dissuade us from seeking a natural advantage in the coming war."

"I'm not stupid, old man, nor am I stubburn enough to refute that. I'm just not comfortable with us digging this thing out of whatever corner the cannibals stuck it in, especially if it was put there for a good reason."

"Your comfort is not our concern, puella," Praetor replied, "and I hope it does not distract you from our orders."

"Did I not just say I wasn't that stupid ten seconds ago?"

"You did, and I hope you remember that."

"There is something of concern, however," Bal'Win interrupted, "as I have gandered, the last of these Forges corrupted the very souls of their masters. Calamity followed soon after. Are we of sound certainty the same will not transpire here?"

"Immaterial, my friend," Mechos chortled, "Malak and Revan were little more than foolish children who knew not what they found. They thought it a mere tool. Bah! It is alive even more so than anyone here at this table."

"I doubt that," Typhaen snorted, "a machine is a machine. It possesses no soul, therefor is not living. Nothing will change that."

"I disagree, Typhaen," Kylo countered, "all the records from the Old Republic indicated these 'machines' were powered by the Force itself. By definition, that makes it alive."

"With respect, Lord Kylo, is a ship alive because it's crew is? You forget that there are countless organism independent of the Force that are quite plainly alive."

"I fail to fathom how any of these quarrels answers my original query," Bal'Win sighed, "record makes tangible the fact of its corruptibility, and the two of you will be there for a passage of time. Are we certain this is worth the peril?"

"To answer your question with finality, yes," Mechos replied, "unlike our Orders' predecessors, I am quite prepared for my commune with the great machines and its spirits. I suspect they will find me quite the warm company."

"If it is corrupted, shouldn't the old man go with?" Talon asked, "He's the only one among us that could… um, well for lack of a better term, purify it."

Praetor shook his head, "Even if our counterparts in Intelligence are correct and civil war within the enemy is certain, we must be ready to deliver a decisive blow should things turn away from our favor. Which is why you two are going and the rest of you will carry out your orders."

"And where will you be when this invasion kicks off, exactly?" Talon asked.

"Attending to matters of concern to the Master, puella. Matters that do not concern you, or this court."

"Except they are our concern, Praetor," Kylo replied, "as a Lord of Ren, you are not entitled to keep secrets from this court."

"Is that so, Lord Kylo? Then I dare ask on behalf of this court a matter that concerns you, then. Since you are so prudent on the matter of secrecy."

"Stop trying to deflect-"

"Why is Jedi Master Tekka dead, Kylo?"

Talon suddenly looked at him sharply and Praetor chuckled, "Alas, I forgot. You failed to inform the council of that particular development."

"I was busy at the time."

"Yes, busy killing a member of the Jedi Order, and a potential lead to their whereabouts. What was your reasoning for such a rash action?"

"Simple. The Jedi weren't stupid enough to tell him anything."

"Which we cannot confirm, thanks to you. Just like the Order continues to survive, also thanks to you."

Kylo's hand tightened into a fist as he growled, "The Master wanted the Jedi out of the way. I just took the literal interpretation of that. He didn't seem to have an issue with that."

"Perhaps, but it has allowed our greatest threat to continue existing. Much like you dispatching a member of the High Council without consulting this Court first."

"And wasted our time while you would've ripped out whatever little pointless secrets he had, hmm?"

"Oh, I can imagine all those historical and archaeological secrets would've been quite informative. It certainly would've made up for our failure in acquiring that information from their archives to begin with."

"You mean when you failed to acquire them because you were getting tossed around by Master Katarn?"

"A calamity caused by your poor judgement, boy. Had you not deviated from you orders, we would not be in the situation to begin with."

"I would be careful to associate all of the blame on his shoulders, Praetor," Bal'Win interrupted, "I shoulder such in equal tandems."

"Yes, thank you for reminding me, Third of Ren. After all, you're the one who let that shuttle full of Younglings escape."

"Yes, I did, and I carry no regret over that decision. I would not be party to the slaughter of children, or their protectors. Especially not under your authority, Aquillan."

"And need I remind you that less than a generation ago, the Jedi inspired a popular uprising against their own government? Your chivalry is going to cost us dearly, I reckon."

"Then I pass on with that knowledge that my soul bears not that particular wicked fruit."

"Perhaps. But the difference is that when I pass, the universe will be a better place than when I first came to it. And I am not ashamed of the path I walked to build that better universe."

"I wonder if that's why you didn't get Primaris' title, Second of Ren."

The air went cold as all eyes went to the Lord of the Praetorians. Hussar growled and made the effort to rise, but Praetor beckoned him to sit.

"The Master ordered you to receive my brother's title and fleet, and thus it was done," he said after a moment, his voice not even changing a decibel, "I do not make a habit of questioning his decisions… not even in this matter, First of Ren."

'But if given word?' Kylo did not ask, "Do you have anything to add, Lord Praetor?"

"None."

"Then it's settled. Lord Mechos will meet me at Vardos, and we will move to take the Forge as soon as we have discovered its location. Everyone else will carry out their own orders."

"And into war we go," Talon sighed, "all this talk of superweapons makes me wonder if the Master has a Death Star hidden somewhere."

"Puella, we did not kill Sidious just to find ourselves in the same trap as him," Praetor retorted, "and the Master learned well from his mistakes."

"It was not the only mistake Sidious made that ended him in oblivion," Bal'Win countered, his somber eyes turned to Kylo as he spoke, "we speak of our superiority to Palpatine and his Empire, but without the deeds to mark the integrity of that claim, we will be no better. If we see ourselves the true inheritors of the Sith, then we must earn the right to rule through example. We must strive to be better, with absolute certainty."

"Only a fool is certain, Bal'Win," Kylo replied wearily, "at the end, all we can do is try."

"Do or do not, there is no try," Talon retorted as she glared at him, "Lor San taught us that, remember?"

"I remember," he turned to the rest, "anything else to address? No? Then I adjourn this court."

They all nodded and one by one disappeared as their signals flickered out, with Talon the last to leave. Her crimson eyes glared into his obsidian with silent intensity.

"Is our transmission secure here?"

"Yes."

"Good," she spat, "where is she?"

"Safe."

She shook her head at him, "You're an idiot, you know that?"

"So I've been told."

She scoffed at him, "I accepted the reason you being here. I even offered to help you when the time came. But you've taken things too far!"

"Really? Says the woman who wants to commit genocide against the Hutts."

"Don't try to deflect this. First you killed our teacher, and now you've taken my sister."

"For her own protection, Kali."

She stared at him baffled, "What does that even mean? You brought her into this."

"Because she's a loose end, and with what I'm about to do, I can't afford her being in the wind. This way, close to me in a place even the Master cannot get to, she'll be out of the way."

"And what happens if you fail?"

"I won't."

She stared at him for a long moment, sighing eventually as she sat back in her chair. "I will keep my promise. But if you endanger her or worse? I will kill you myself."

"I'm sure."

"Where is she anyway?"

"On this very ship. Part of the deal Sydow stuck with Damask was that no one would be allowed to step on this ship without his permission. She'll be safe."

"For how long, though?"

"Long enough. Now, don't you have assassins to brief?"

"I do. Don't make me sic them on you," before she could leave however, she turned back around, "I wouldn't push Praetor if I was you. He blames you for what happened to Primaris. If the Master gives the word, he will kill you."

"I know."

She stared at him for a moment, and then she was gone. Kylo sighed in the gloom, and then pulled his helmet off. He stared into the visor reflection, seeing the face he'd grown to hate. The face that bore all the horrors and pain that had brought him here. As he closed his eyes, he heard the screams in the backdrop… and he was reminded of why he was here.

Of what he had to do.

"Soon," he said, pulling his helmet back on, "soon."

Authors Notes

This is JSailer and Sqausher. The semester is over and we'll be returning to writing. As you've noticed here, we have reposted Chapter 45. Thanks in part to the recommendations of Terminator-57, we have heavily edited the chapter to make the scene a bit less of a picnic and more so a professional meeting between people who hate each other. We hope this will be an improvement over the last one. On the note of the next chapter, we hope to get it up by the 22nd. However, we shall see with the holiday season. In the meantime, we have a preview of the next chapter here for you. Merry Christmas:

Pain. That was the first thing that came to Rey's mind as she slowly stirred. A pain like she'd been struck in the head with an axe, soon accompanied by the slow and steady thumbing of a drum in the deep darkness. Ironically, she took the anguish as a comfort; you don't feel pain if you're dead.

She tried to open her eyes, but the sweet darkness was replaced by a piercing light. She immediately shut them, suddenly conscious of how cold and even numb she felt. It was as though she was in water, unable to move or to breathe or…

She heard something. A voice. She couldn't make it out yet, but it was there. It was speaking to her, and she focused on it like a lifeline. She pulled on it, mentally yanking herself out of her unconscious state back into the living. She tried to say something, but she couldn't hear her own words. She couldn't even remember what she had said.

"Where… am I?" she tried again, finally hearing how hoarse she sounded. What had happened?

"Safe," the voice said again, heavy and reverberated. She had heard that voice before, but where? Then she remembered.

"No!" She gasped, suddenly coming fully awake. The piercing light was there again a moment, making her eyes burn. Panic took her when she realized she couldn't move her arms or her legs. Something was holding her down!

"Easy…" the voice soothed, a cold leather hand moving across her brow, "let me help you."

She felt at ease suddenly. It was sweeter than a shot of morphine. Purer. The pain disappeared, and reluctantly she began to open her eyes again. Everything was blurry at first, the light still there. Then something move between them, a shadow coming over her. She focused, and her heart sank when the image became clear.

"You," she said.

"Yes, me," Kylo Ren answered.