Chapter 8
"Where did you take Ellysia?!" Doran yelled.
"Whoa. Calm down soldier," Rhapsody replied, putting his hands up in mock fear. "I'm just following orders. This doesn't concern you, but if you're interested, come to the Planet Manajra. There you will find the girl."
A portal opened, and Rhapsody was about to step through. Where he was going, Doran didn't know for sure, but he bet that it was Manajra. And he wasn't about to let him slip away.
"And what orders were those?!" Doran shouted. Still holding one of Ellysia's lightsaber in the back of his belt, he unhooked it and threw it at the Kore. Spinning horizontally, the blade ignited midway, catching Rhapsody off guard.
To his credit, Rhapsody was quick. He nearly dodged the entire blade. But the sword nicked his left cheekbone. Screaming in agony, more out of anger than pain, Rhapsody unleashed a howl. "My face! What have you done to my face?!"
"I want Ellysia back now!" Elliet demanded, not caring whether it was futile or not.
"The girl's with us now, whether you like it not," Rhapsody retorted, his hand held over the cut in his cheek. The wound though had already cauterized keeping the blood from dripping. "If you want her back. Come get her."
Rhapsody slipped into the portal, closing it instantaneously. And Doran just stood there even more helpless than he was a few seconds ago.
He walked over to where the lightsaber landed, picked up the blade, and punched the wall nearby with his free hand.
"Dammit," he muttered.
...
It took a few days for the Majesty at its mere Point Four cruising speed to reach the remote code planet of Wayland. But it didn't really matter to Captain Harlan. Once he was let in on Grand Admiral Grant's plan to use the resources at Wayland, a few days didn't really matter.
Their project was going to take years to accomplish. Years that the Empire no longer had. With each passing day, more reports came into the Grand Admiral's fingertips of military commanders going "warlord" and carving out little pieces of the Empire's quadrants for themselves. By the Captain's estimates, in just the few weeks since the Emperor's death, nearly ten percent of the Empire's territories were lost to pirate gangs, alien and former Imperial warlords, and any other malcontent that dared to seize territory from the headless government of the galaxy.
It didn't help matters that Sate Pestage, Grand Vizier of the Empire, had become so paranoid that he basically shut himself up inside the Imperial Palace Throne room. And to add icing on the cake, rumor had it that Ysanne Isard, the Director of Imperial Intelligence, had become the new advisor to the Grand Vizier.
Grand Admiral Grant had run several model calculations to predict how long Sate Pestage would last as head of the Empire before Isard would take control. In none of the scenarios did the results favor Pestage. According to Grant, Sate Pestage would last a year at the most.
Which was all the more crucial why their project better get started as soon as possible. If Isard took control of the Empire, there's no telling if she'd keep Grand Admiral Grant as Supreme Commander. More than likely she'd replace him with one of her people. Someone she could trust and manipulate would far suit her purposes.
"Quite an unremarkable planet, isn't it?" Admiral Grant remarked.
"You'd think that the Emperor would have some sort of defense force guarding his storehouse," Harlan commented, still looking outside the viewport.
The Grand Admiral chuckled. "Oh I'm sure there is some kind of defense here. Just what exactly, I'm not sure."
Harlan turned around. "Well, the preliminary scans didn't detect any type of advanced technology on the surface," he replied. "Do you think Mount Tantiss is booby trapped?"
The Grand Admiral rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "I'm not sure. Be prepared for the unexpected."
"Shall I order a landing party?"
"Nothing extravagant," Grant answered. "A few chariot assault vehicles, and three squadrons of storm troopers shall suffice. Call it a precaution."
"There is an awful lot of vegetation near the mountain," Harlan said. "Our chariot assault vehicles will have a difficult time navigating the terrain."
"That's why the Emperor chose this particular mountain for the Tantiss Project," Grant commented. He was looking at some data readouts on one of his displays. Probably having to do with the mountains's geographical layout. Or perhaps the planet as well.
"This gets more puzzling by the minute," Grant said. "Observe, Captain, the paradox. We arrive at a world the Emperor has gone to great lengths to hide from the Imperial data archives, only to come across a planet that is in no way remarkable, with seemingly no defenses from being taken over by any military forces."
"That doesn't sound like the Emperor to leave his prized storehouse unguarded," Harlan said thoughtfully.
"No, it doesn't indeed," Grant finished. A sudden realization struck him. "Call off the landing party. And get me the storm trooper profiles of our best soldiers."
"Yes, sir," Harlan replied dutifully, logging in the orders. Whatever Admiral Grant had planned, Harlan couldn't follow. And perhaps, maybe this time, he didn't want to follow the Grand Admiral's reasoning.
...
Three hours later, Captain Harlan finally found the right "storm trooper" Grand Admiral Grant was looking for. And only fifteen minutes to prepare a single shuttle for their departure. Their being only Grand Admiral Grant, Captain Harlan, and the "storm trooper". And it wasn't until the three were in the cockpit that Grant sprung his plan on the Captain.
"A Dark Jedi!?" Harlan exclaimed, bursting with emotion. "That's what this is all about!?"
"Easy, Captain," Grant soothed. "It's the only logical explanation for Wayland's lack of defense. With a Dark Jedi, the mountain is guarded without alerting anyone that there's anything to protect on the planet. And with the locals being primitive natives, comes an added bonus; camouflage."
That made sense; but then again, it made no sense. Harlan didn't put much stock into the whole Force thing, but apparently, the Emperor did. And Grand Admiral Grant as well. "So, if a Dark Jedi is able to guard this mountain, why haven't we brought a landing party for protection?"
"That's what the Guardsman is here for," Grant answered. "As a Royal Guardsman of the Emperor, he will convey the message to our Dark Jedi guardian that we come in the authority of the Emperor."
Harlan turned around to look at Lieutenant Kummings. It was only a couple hours ago that the Captain learned that Royal Guardsmen were selected from the best storm trooper ranks and cycled back into trooper duty to keep their skills at peak efficiency. Kummings was a Royal Guardsman. Well, perhaps Former Royal Guardsman would be the better term.
The preflight sequence finished its startup. Kummings keyed in a few buttons and they were off. With a scuffled clank and a slight jolt, the shuttle dropped out of the Majesty's docking bay and descended to the planet surface. It was a little amusing to watch a Royal Guardsman dressed out in the flamboyant red garb piloting a shuttle craft. Even more amusing, the Guardsman kept his helmet on.
"How do you see through those things?" Harlan enquired wryly.
"You get used to it, sir," Kummings rasped through the helmet.
The roar of atmospheric friction against the hull started to grow louder. The display details of the planet surface were becoming visible. There wasn't much to see. There were groups of forests spotted by the occasional rolling plains, and a single large mountain stood on the edge of the horizon reaching into the sky like a tower.
"Admiral what if you're wrong?" Harlan enquired.
"I beg your pardon?" Grant replied.
"About the Dark Jedi I mean," Harlan amended. "What if it's a Sith and not a Dark Jedi. Would that change our plans any?"
"I doubt it," the Grand Admiral replied. "Slight nuances aside, the Dark Jedi are a little less ambitious than a Sith Lord, but I believe the Emperor operated by the Rule of Two. Some great Sith Lord of legend invented the rule, but basically, it calls for only two Sith to exist at any one time. The Lord Vader and Emperor Palpatine fulfilled those requirements. I don't think that there is another Sith in the Empire."
The city, located at the southwestern base of the mountain, came into view. It was the logical place for them to land. Most of the buildings were small and hid under the cover of the trees. Such a deceptive look, Harlan wondered. The city was much larger than he expected for such a primitive planet.
The craft set down on the outskirts, close to the mountain, and out of site of the villagers. No doubt, they riled their curiosity. "Wander if the natives are hostile," Harlan muttered.
Unstrapping his safety harness, Grant stood up and straightened his tunic. "I'm not sure," he answered. "I wouldn't doubt it though."
The shuttle's ramp lowered with the sound of hissing gas. Lieutenant Kummings went first, followed closely by Grand Admiral Grant, and lastly, Captain Harlan taking up the rear. With each step they took away from the shuttle, the silence seemed to grow louder and louder. Harlan expected at least some of the natives to come out of hiding and watch them with curiosity. Kummings mask was on, but his body was rigid, each step careful and measured. He was sensing a trap.
And while the Royal Guardsman and the Imperial Captain were on edge, Grand Admiral Grant was completely relaxed. Looking ahead at the mountain, his steps carried the weight of a man who had realized his vision. He would restore the glory of the Empire that was suddenly lost only weeks before.
"At last," Grant said. "Mount Tantiss is finally mine. And now, no one can stop me from finishing what the Emperor started."
"I can," a voice called from behind them.
The three spun around completely startled. Standing behind them was a tall man dressed in a dark robe. A hood covered his face. He could almost be mistaken for the Emperor.
Except he didn't carry the regal air of the Emperor. He didn't seem to be as menacing either.
But looks could be deceiving.
"Ah, you must be the Guardian," Grand Admiral Grant said easily and bowed slightly. "It is an honor to make your acquaintance. I am Grand Admiral Grant, Supreme Commander of the Imperial Fleet. And you are?"
"A Grand Admiral," the Guardian acknowledged coolly. "You are not permitted to know about this place."
"Nevertheless, I am here," Grant replied, putting slight more force in his pitch. "Times have grown desperate for the Empire."
"I know the Emperor is dead," said the Guardian. "I felt his presence extinguish almost a full moon ago."
"Yes, the Emperor is dead," Grant confirmed. "However, his legacy lives on." He nodded at the mountain. "And now it's time to realize that legacy."
"And what legacy would that be?" the Guardian wondered.
"Permit me to show you," Grant said.
The stranger seemed to contemplate the offer. He finally nodded his head in agreement. "Very well, show me."
"Lead the way," Grant said and gestured.
The trek up the mountain was slow, grueling, and painful. The Guardian didn't seem to have any trouble scaling the mountain. Neither did Lieutenant Kummings. And surprisingly, Admiral Grant seemed to be faring pretty well, despite his aging body.
It was Captain Harlan that was lagging behind. The hike itself wasn't the problem. It was the annoying vegetation. Constantly, the group would encounter strange vine-like plants that slowed them down. Blasters weren't particularly effective, and the Dark Jedi Guardian more often than not just watched with quiet amusement. In the end, they had to change direction over a dozen times. And this did not make for a pleasant straight route up the mountain which the Captain anticipated.
So it was a relief when they suddenly came upon the door to Mount Tantiss. Hidden underneath vegetation and part of the mountain jutting out, the metallic entrance brilliantly reflected the sunlight giving it a golden hue.
"We are here," the Guardian announced.
"Impressive," Grant commented, looking at the breadth of the mountain. Now that they were standing right in front of the entrance, the massive size was all the more intimidating. "It'd take hours to search the entire premises."
"It would help if you told me what you were looking for," said the Guardian. "I grow tired of being kept waiting."
"All in good time, Master Guardian," Grant replied, not even looking in his direction. He stepped toward the entrance. "First, I need to make sure everything is in order here."
...
It took over six hours to tour the place. The mountain's inner layers of tunnels, bridges, and stations were far more extensive that Harlan could imagine. Most of the material seemed to be useless trinkets of the Emperor's relics he confiscated from thousands of different worlds. Others, such as the entire suite of Spaarti cloning cylinders, were unfeasible, seeing as it would take a minimum of five years to recreate the clone army the former Republic used against the Separatists in the Clone Wars. No doubt they would be used for the long-term campaign plans of restocking the Imperial armies.
The only piece of technology that Grand Admiral Grant was interested at the moment was a full schematic of the cloaking technology the Empire recently developed. There were rumors that one of Grand Admirals had further refined the technology to compensate for the double-blindness the cloaking shield created on the user. However, that technology was gone along with its creator.
And as it turned out, it was no longer needed. At least that was the impression Captain Harlan received from the Supreme Commander's demeanor. He wasn't disappointed in the least bit. "This is exactly what I was hoping for," Grant commented, running a hand over the digital schematic. There was always some kind of intrinsic value in tangibly holding a piece of equipment.
"Humph," the Guardian snorted. "It's useless if you ask me. Emperor Palpatine never could develop a means of utilizing the shield because of its defectiveness. How is a person to see inside the shield if all sensors are completely useless?"
Grant never even looked at him. "Fortunately I didn't ask you," he said, dismissing the advice. The Guardian bristled at the insult. "There are ways to use this shield," the Grand Admiral continued, eyes dancing like fire. "Ways that you cannot possibly imagine."
The Guardian may not have Grant's strategy skills. But he was cunning in his own right. "You didn't come here just for the cloaking shield," he spoke out the realization.
This time Grant turned and looked at him face to face. "You are correct, Guardian. I did not come here just for the cloaking shield."
"I came here for you."
There was a brief pause. "What's your name?" Grant finally said.
For the first time, the Guardian pulled off his hood. He was an elderly man, with a clean cut beard, and a shrewd, regal face.
"I am Darth Tyrannus."
...
The Intel brief concluded, and the commanding officers started filing their way out. All except for Captain Harlan and Grand Admiral Grant. "A word with you, Admiral?" Harlan murmured quietly into Grant's ear.
"What is it, Captain?" Grant asked, draining the last of the coffee out of his tea cup, before setting it on the table.
"It's about…," he hesitated, "Darth Tyrannus. To be honest, I'm not sure if he's who he says he is."
The Grand Admiral arched his eyebrows. "Well, that depends on how you determine who someone is."
The comment caught the Captain off guard. "I don't follow."
"Never mind," Grant shrugged. "Continue."
Harlan handed him a data card. It contained the entire profile of a man that matched the physical image of Darth Tyrannus. "This is Count Dooku, former Jedi Master during the days of the Old Republic and leader of the Separatist movement. He was defeated by Jedi Master Obiwan Kenobi and Jedi Anakin Skywalker shortly before the Purge. He's been dead for over twenty years."
Grant skimmed the data card before placing it back on the table. "Yes, I know," he said.
"You know?" Harlan replied shocked. "Then you must know as well what we're dealing with."
"Indeed," Grant answered, nodding his head. "This is the clone of Count Dooku."
"Well, what are we going to do about it?" Harlan demanded. Silently, he cursed himself for the brief lapse in military etiquette.
"We do nothing," Grant answered. "Clone or no clone, he's not Count Dooku. As far as we're concerned, he's another agent of the Empire and servant of the Emperor." His eyes bored into the Captain's. "Bottom line is that we need him."
That last line sent cold shiver's up Harlan's spine. "Just what are you planning to do with him, sir?"
"I have a theory," Grant started. "I'm not sure of it yet, but I believe that Darth Tyrannus's force abilities can be utilized in battle. I'm expecting to combine his talents with the cloaking shield technology and annihilate our enemies."
"But sir," Harlan persisted, "I don't understand why we're resorting to such drastic measures just to defeat a few squandering rebels."
"Our enemies aren't just the rebels," Grant stated. "Very soon now, we will be making a move toward the Unknown Regions and reconquering the territory in the name of the Galactic Empire." The Grand Admiral stood up and started to pace slowly. "Despite the overwhelming use of Imperial resources, Thrawn has not annexed the territory under Imperial domain. He has instead forged alliances between the natives of the worlds with his wing of the Empire. This is not how Imperials work. We don't negotiate. We conquer."
Harlan drank in the flurry of comments. Imperial politics was far above him. He didn't much care for them either. But apparently, Grand Admiral Grant did. It wasn't enough that the lands were under Imperial rule on paper. No. The worlds needed to be ruled over by the Empire itself. And Thrawn did no such thing. He promised them Imperial security, but not Imperial rulership. Unless if you counted him as the ruler.
And abruptly the Captain understood the Grand Admiral's reasoning.
"Admiral Thrawn has created his own version of the Empire."
Grant smiled faintly. "Indeed he has," he said, cold fury burning in his eyes. "And I will not stand for it. And in the process, we will dispense of Nuso Esva as well. He has distracted the Grand Admiral enough for me to finish the job he could never accomplish."
"I will destroy Grand Admiral Thrawn."
The declaration was emphatic and powerful. No malice. Just sheer determination on Grant's part. "Well, Admiral, you were wrong about one thing," Harlan said at last.
"And what would that be, Captain?" Grant said sardonically.
"There is another Sith in the Empire; Darth Tyrannus."
For a moment, the Grand Admiral was quiet. His thoughts were unreadable. Then he silently nodded his head in agreement.
"Yes. I suppose you're right."
...
A dark, purplish hue shined from behind the palace throne, the Kore of Light seated in the chair. The dark light clashed with the golden-white of Damien's garb. He didn't even have to turn around to see who it was.
"It is finished," Sage proclaimed. "Grand Admiral Thrawn is dead. We've nothing to fear from the Empire now."
"At last," Damien clenched his fist in triumph. "We can now move on the offensive. Where is Nuso Esva?"
"He'll be here shortly," Darkness replied; his hands methodically gliding over his crystal ball. "With Reckoning on our side and shortly to commence, the powers that be will fall by our hands."
"Very well," Damien replied. "Escort him to the throne room when he arrives."
"Yes, my Lord," came the acknowledgement, and Sage vanished. And another figure materialized beside the Kore of Light.
"My Lord," Knowledge said. "I don't think you should be trusting the Kore of Darkness's judgment right now. I believe he has been using the Reckoning in an experiment without our consent."
"If you are referring to the gravity wave unleashed on Grand Admiral Thrawn's ship, I authorized the attack," Damien replied dismissively.
"I wasn't referring to that." Knowledge said, and handed him a codex. "This is our Holy Text. Why don't you turn to the end of the book?"
Damien opened the book, turning to the end. "Huh?" he said contemptuously. "Where are the rest of the pages?"
"They've been torn out," Knowledge confirmed. "And I'm sure it was Sage's doing."
"What makes you think it was Sage?" Damien questioned. "Why would he do such a thing?"
"I'm not sure, but it had to be him."
"Had to be him?" Damien repeated. "Seraph, are you sure that your personal feelings about the Kore of Darkness are not clouding your judgment?"
"Sire, please listen to me-"
"I will hear no more negative comments about Sage, do you understand?" Damien cut him off briskly. He thrust the codex back into Knowledge's hands. "This plan was his idea, and it's a good one. We stood by while Emperor Palpatine ruled the galaxy with an iron fist and did nothing. Now, we have the opportunity to stop him from rising to power a second time. I won't miss this chance."
"Keep monitoring the energy readouts."
It was a clear dismissal. "Yes, sir," Seraph gritted and disappeared.
...
They were in Wisdom's private quarters.
"Here's your precious Holy Scripture," Seraph proclaimed mockingly and tossed the book on the table. "Guess who's been ripping pages out of it? Your favorite friend, Sage."
Wisdom just stared at him blankly. Then he glanced down at the codex. "He wanted to remove all references to the Reckoning," he said.
"Yes," Knowledge confirmed. "What I don't get is why. You've examined the text hundreds of times. Even I read the passages a few times. So has every other Kore."
"There must've been something in the text he wanted to hide. Some kind of hidden message," Wen deduced. He shook his head. "All of this is completely unorthodox. But I can't let him get away with this." He grabbed the codex and stood up.
"Where are you going?" Knowledge asked.
"To confront Sage. And put an end to all of this nonsense." He turned and strode away.
...
Wisdom entered into the chamber. So this is where he resides he thought curiously. He looked around. The whole chamber seemed to consist of some sort of black crystal. Well isn't this a little over the top, even for the Kore of Darkness.
"Sage, I know you're here, so answer me," Wen spoke out into the silence. A sound reverberated off the dark crystal walls. Was it laughter? And if so, the voice certainly wasn't Sage's.
"Who goes?" Wisdom demanded looking around in futility. "No one else is allowed on these premises."
An eerie light appeared on the black crystal floor. Rising slowly through the hole Darkness appeared, still having his feet crossed and hovering in the air, but this time there was no crystal ball.
"Hello, Wisdom," came the dark, melodious voice. "I don't need a crystal ball to see why you're here."
"So you have been watching me," Wen answered. "I've reached the end of the sacred text." His arms shrugged in mockery. "But imagine my surprise when I came across the end and found pages torn from the text."
"And what makes you think I have it?" Darkness asked with just a traceable hint of threat in his voice.
"Oh come on," Wen admonished. "I'm not known to have Wisdom for nothing. You're the one who's been going on and on about the Reckoning. And the last chapter of our Holy Scripture is about nothing but the Reckoning. Now I want to know where the rest of the scripture is."
"Suspicion has its price, Wisdom," Sage warned. "Beware of such thoughts. They can lead to disaster."
"No petty suspicion rules my destiny," Wen retorted. "Only absolute certainty. Don't deny it. I know you have the missing pages. Now hand them over."
"And does this order come from the Lord?" Sage asked.
This was an obvious attempt at stalling. But Wisdom was ready for it. "No, but I'm sure that he would not be pleased if you were caught tearing pages from our sacred text, then withholding the readings from the rest of the Kore." Wen let a slow smile come across him. "It would surely imply that you were hiding something, Sage."
The pages mysteriously appeared in Darkness's hand. "Beware, Wisdom. There is a reason why I had those pages removed."
With a gesture of his hands, the pages floated into Wisdom's fingertips. Wen pulled a book out of the inside of his robe – the Holy Text. Flipping to the torn section in the back, he aligned the pages with the ripped sections…
And with a flash of brilliant gold light, the ripped leaflets merged back inside the codex. The book floated away from Wen as the light started to dim. Floating there, with no rhyme or reason. But the Kore of Wisdom was not deterred. He grabbed the book.
"Alas," Wisdom said. "I will finally discover the secret of Reckoning and your ambitious plans, Sage."
The book turned from golden light to pitch black. "What the—"Wisdom started. But it was too late. He didn't even have a chance to scream as the darkness consumed him.
Suddenly the crystal ball appeared, and the eyes of the Kore of Darkness glowed shining white. "Everything has its price," he rasped. "You deluded yourself, Wisdom. You actually believed that I would hand over the missing pages and let you see them just because of an empty threat?! Meet your fate!"
The green robe, now tainted dark, fell to the floor. A degenerated, crumpled, corpse was all that remained of Wen, the Kore of Wisdom.
"Foolish mortal," Sage muttered. "Good riddance, Wen. Soon your ambitious, self-centered friends, Seraph and Damien will join you." His voice grew darker and more malevolent, and a large dark shadow seethed from his body. "I no longer need the Kore or the Manajrans. The last piece of the puzzle has been found. And now, nothing; NOTHING CAN STOP ME!"
He roared with laughter, and another, more familiar voice, laughed along with him.