Chapter 9

The hollow eyes of Sage glowed brilliant white. His hands caressed the floating crystal ball hovering in front of him. Images of galaxies, stars, planetary systems, and worlds flickered across the orb. Then the planet Manajra came into view and fixated.

"Nothingness. Silence. The Void. That's what the Anti-Force thrives on." A blue flame coursed across his hand before extinguishing beneath a clenched fist. "He is the ultimate arbiter of life in the universe. He is the One to whom I pledge my whole-hearted allegiance. Not that pathetic Damien, with all his illusions of power and the Kore. What a ridiculous fool. Bring on the darkness, the silence, the Chaos my Master has commanded. No more petty squabbling of life. All will be silenced in the name of the Anti-Force!"

"So that's what Reckoning is hiding," Nuso Esva said gloatingly. "You've been playing the Manajrans like puppets to unlock your master." His smiled turned brilliantly evil and his arms folded across his shoulders. "What did you tell them? That it was some kind of weapon to destroy their enemies?"

"Something like that."

"So why did you need Thrawn brought here to begin with?" Esva questioned.

The white orbs under Sage's hood narrowed. "What makes you think I wanted him to come here?"

Esva knew he struck a chord with that one. He had been trying to see if there was any way of getting under the creature's skin. Apparently, there was. "Oh come on," he shrugged. "You chose the battlefield. You wanted me to duel him at this location. Had I not drawn Thrawn to battle here, he never would've discovered Reckoning. So that leads only one conclusion. You wanted him brought here."

"It's not him that I want," Sage answered.

A stray sound clicked down the hallway. Sage turned around, glowing eyes turning to narrow slits. "Who's there?" the figure called out.

Nuso Esva unfolded his arms. "We are not alone."

…

Seraph stood over the dead body in Sage's quarters. It was Wen alright. He had just overheard Sage's conversation with Nuso Esva, trying to see if Esva was in on the plot. Apparently he was.

If one could call it a conversation. Why was it that people who made themselves out to be the villain always felt it necessary to endlessly monologue? Seraph only thought it occurred in stories and fairy tales. He learned that it happened in the real universe as well.

He checked Wen's cloak. Wisdom had sworn not to use any of the Manajran crystals to grant him power. Without them, he was no doubt powerless to Sage. It was a well-kept secret that the crystals inside the palace granted the Kore their powers. Without them, they were useless.

Lord Damien was the sole exception. Every generation one, maybe two Manajrans were born with an innate sensitivity to the Force. The crystals heightened their senses and abilities, and they could wield truly fearsome power. That was the key to enabling Damien to be the leader of the Kore. Concentrating on light energy, he became the strongest of all Manajrans.

I knew it. Seraph thought to himself. That conniving old man has been using Damien all along. And now Wen has paid with his life. Knowledge wasted no time and warped out of the room.

Popping back into the Reckoning core located beneath the Crystal Palace, he peered at the energy indicators. "I've never seen the energy levels this high before!" he exclaimed. "It's got to be Sage. I have to stop him." Walking up to the pedestal, he pressed a button and a small upside down pyramid raised from one of the tiles on the floor.

Running his hands over it until he found the switch, he pulled apart the pyramid. Inside was a small dark crystal. The key to the Core. He snatched it, and the whole room went completely dark. "That ought to do it. As long as I have the key there is no way Sage can use Reckoning."

"Seraph," came a haunting voice from behind Knowledge. Caught by surprise, he turned around. The figure was exactly as he thought. And feared.

"Sage," he said breathlessly.

"I'm warning you," Sage threatened in his nightmarish tone, "put that key back, now."

There was no crystal ball; only the old fossil whose visage was mysteriously shrouded under the robe. He must be serious about his threat Seraph thought. Then again, if he was able to dispose of Wen, the Kore of Wisdom, so effortlessly, there may be more to him than meets the eye. Knowledge was considerably stronger than Wisdom, perhaps even as strong as Power, but how strong was Darkness?

"I don't take orders from you, Sage," Seraph bit out. "In case you have forgotten, the Kore of Light is the Lord over this generation, not you."

"You're very mistaken," Sage retorted with a note of paternal patience in his tone that contrasted with the hellish pitch his voice made. His eyes made that unique and mysterious white glow that only he was capable of producing. "The Anti-Force is the one in control. He is the Overlord over everything, universe and all. The eyes seemed to glow brighter. Was it a trick of lighting? "And he has opted to return to this universe and finish what he started so long ago."

"Humph," Seraph snorted. "You're claiming to serve the Manajran boogeyman, Sage? The Anti-Force is nothing but a legend, a religious myth that served to scare little children at night." He put his hands on his hips in total defiance. "Whoever you serve, I'm sure Light would want to meet him."

Whether it was the darkness playing tricks on him or his own mind, Seraph couldn't tell. But for half a second, he could've sworn he saw a large human skull flash over Sage's body before vanishing.

"The Anti-Force is the ultimate power in the universe," Sage began preaching again, as if he were some sort of twisted prophet, "and as its Judge, He has opted to cast the Force into oblivion, ALONG WITH EVERY FORM OF LIFE CREATED BY IT!"

Seraph wasn't sure whether the old man was delusional or just plain psychotic, but it didn't matter. If Sage's ranting and shouting was supposed to scare him, it wasn't working. Convincing Damien to imprison the Kore of Darkness might be easier than he once thought.

And once Sage was imprisoned, he would face Manajran justice for his crimes. And then this whole Reckoning crisis could be put behind them—

And abruptly, a thought of complete dread filled Knowledge's heart. It couldn't be true. It just couldn't. And yet, deep down, cutting through all of his doubts and disbelief like a knife, the realization of Sage's plan was all too real.

"That's what this Reckoning is," Seraph spoke. "It's not a weapon to you, is it Sage? It's an obstacle. You don't want to use Reckoning. It was never meant to be used."

"It was meant to be destroyed."

"The Anti-Force is coming," Sage continued as if Knowledge said nothing. "And when He arrives, He will return everything to a complete state of nothingness. He only grows stronger with every evil thought that clouds these creatures' hearts. Let me demonstrate for you."

A small white ball of light materialized between Sage's hands. Moving his hands to his side, the light moved behind Sage. Then with a flick of his wrists and a pushing motion from his arms, the light was cast forth in a large beam aimed straight at Seraph!

"ALL WILL BE SILENCED IN THE NAME OF THE ANTI-FORCE!" Sage screamed.

With a roar that followed the shout like an abrasive echo, the force of the blast came head on to Knowledge. Calling up his own power, he pushed back the energy wave and caused it to diverge around him. Wielding Manajran crystals on his wrists, he called up every ounce of energy he could muster. Slowly a bluish hue of Seraph's own power materialized and blocked the wave.

For the most part.

The energy was snapping and shredding his own. It was no wonder Wisdom perished. The energy emitted from Sage was overwhelming. "What…is…this?!" Knowledge rasped through the torrent of energy. He couldn't keep up the barrier much longer. Seraph's mind raced. If there were some way to get out of the wave's wake, maybe he could muster a counterattack.

His shield collapsed and the storm of power onslaught him. Just in the nick of time he managed to dematerialize and move his body a few paces to the side. The wave rushed past Seraph destroying a couple of columns before finally dissipating. The crumbling of the two columns caused the whole castle to shake.

…

Meanwhile, in the throne room, Damien felt the quaking. The guards themselves began to tremble from the quake before finally regaining their composure. He stood up from his chair to brace himself. "What's going on?" he said wondering.

Using his mental senses, he focused on the energy source. It came from somewhere beneath the throne room. Perhaps the castle core. In a flash of light, Damien transported out of the room. Whatever was going on, he was going to put a stop to it.

…

"You survived," Sage stated. "Impressive."

Seraph was gripping his left shoulder. He escaped Sage's attack, but not unscathed. The blast had crushed his arm. I can't let this old windbag get the best of me Seraph thought. But where is he getting all of that power?!

The Kore were the only ones with power on Manajra. It was a secret passed down from Kore to Kore through each generation. The Kore were chosen, then endowed with the abilities. But whether Sage was telling the truth or not about the Anti-Force, Knowledge witnessed it firsthand. Sage's power did not come from the Kore.

Which meant that Sage was not a Manajran. And by definition, neither could he be the Kore of Darkness. Which pondered the question: If Sage wasn't a Kore, what was he? And what is the source of his power?

Sage threw another energy wave of white light at him. But this time Seraph was ready. Countering the wizard's wave with one of his own, blue and white clashed as the two's power measured themselves to each other. The walls buckled under the stress as force upon force pressed against each other. Space itself seemed to be in flux. The floor seemed to give way with every pressure of power flowing from the confliction. His good arm outstretched and with obvious strain, Knowledge concentrated every fiber of his being into the shot.

And it was clear to Seraph that Sage was far stronger than him. His energy started to give way again. The beam was being pushed back. He could warp to another location, perhaps try to get another shot at Sage from behind. But he knew it was futile. Whoever Sage was, he was clearly too powerful to handle. Knowledge's only chance now was to get to Light before the wizard destroyed Seraph just like he did Wisdom. Maybe Damien was strong enough to slay the wise man. Maybe.

Seraph's power collapsed again. Here came the wave once more. This was his chance. As the wave overcame him, he dematerialized once more.

And prayed to the Force he'd rematerialize where he wanted.

The energy wave blasted through the space Knowledge once stood before dissipating once again.

"Hmm," Sage said to himself. "He escaped. He's stronger than he looks. But no matter. I know exactly where he's headed!"

Sage warped out of the room just as Seraph did.

And a game of cat and mouse began.

…

The reports came in, and Colonel Ringer nearly choked on his own cigarra. "What in worlds?" he muttered, staring at the datacard. With a curse spoken from his homeworld, Ringer stormed off to the Admiral's private quarters. The Admiral wasn't going to like this.

…..

The sound of Corellian classical music filled Niriz's room as he sat down at his ivory desk with a teacup of coffee in his right hand. Shore duty had its perks he had to admit. Even at the fortress's base on Nirauan, the center of Imperial operations that Grand Admiral Thrawn commanded, there was the slightest air of relaxation among the troops, among the officers, even among the executives such as Niriz. Shore duty would do that to a person.

Everything always settled into a routine. And it was no different with Niriz. Every morning, he'd take a long sonic shower, turn on his favorite classical music, have specially imported coffee delivered to his front door, and then sit down at his desk, sometimes dressed in nothing but his bathrobe, and go over the morning reports.

He was losing his military edge. This happened to some extent to nearly every high level officer in the military. Things became more political. Decisions had to be well thought out in three dimensional terms. Nothing was black and white. Everything was grey. And all of this mindlessness fed into the need to establish a routine and acclimate to the environment.

And that's precisely what Niriz did. He didn't like it one bit. He longed for the simple days where he commanded a starship and sailed through the cosmos instituting and preserving the order of the Empire. He no longer commanded a starship. He directed fleets. He no longer gave orders. He supervised the personnel who gave the orders. He no longer carried out orders from Central Command. He made them from Admiral Thrawn's CENTCOM base here. And the worst part was that he no longer heard the stories from his commanding officers complaining about the endless bureaucracy from the Imperial Governors. He witnessed it firsthand routinely.

The Empire was getting more bureaucratic with each passing day. The Emperor's death and the Imperial Fleet's defeat at Endor was confirmed. The Imperial dynasty had passed onto Sate Pestage. And within a couple of weeks of his taking command there was already that feel that the Empire was unravelling from the top down. It wouldn't be long before some ambitious politician would vie for control of the Empire position. And that would further agitate the situation.

A new Supreme Commander had yet to be officially announced. But the rumors were already flying about who would be picked. Niriz secretly hoped that Thrawn would be picked for the position, but he knew better. The Grand Admiral's alien heritage made sure of that.

He took a measured sip of his coffee and scrolled over the news on his desk computer. There hadn't been any reports transmitted from Grand Admiral Thrawn's fleet. Odd, but not completely out of the ordinary. Niriz wondered if the Grand Admiral had finally cornered the cocky little bug. He proceeded to drink another sip of coffee-

A knock at the door interrupted his musings. "I'm sorry to disturb you, Admiral," came a gruff voice through the door; Colonel Ringer no doubt, "but this couldn't wait."

"This had better be good," Niriz bellowed as he pressed the unlock button from his desk. Ringer came inside dressed in full military uniform and walked in his perfect military stride. He didn't look the part—he was overweight and always had a cigarra in his mouth—but his mannerisms were nothing but professional.

"The scout ships came in at 0200 this morning," Ringer gritted. He carefully dabbled the cigarra's tip on a makeshift ashtray from Niriz's small coffee plate. The news more than made up for the lack of etiquette.

"They found what I was looking for?" the Admiral asked hopefully.

"Yes, sir, and more," the Colonel spat out, stuffing the cigarra back in the side of his mouth. "Where did Admiral Thrawn learn a trick like that I wonder?"

"The Grand Admiral has always used private slicers in backtracking information," Niriz answered. "I never thought of them as much. I presumed Imperial Intelligence and Decrypt had the best in the galaxy. But you wouldn't believe what some of these private ones can do. Most of them come from smugglers or other worse malcontents of the galaxy. This one-" he gestured at Ringer's datacard "came from the latter."

"Well, the information was worth it," said Ringer. "Take a look for yourself." He handed over the datacard.

Wordlessly, Niriz took it. He skimmed over the report taking in the information with casual glances. Data reports were extensive documents, often containing huge amounts of useless words save for a few important items, usually stuck at the end in the conclusion. And that's exactly where Niriz scrolled. The name that came up was all too familiar and all too dangerous.

"Can this be verified?" Niriz said, eyes still concentrated on the datapad.

"We're still in the process of verifying the information feed," Ringer admitted. "Most of the data in that report has been cleverly hidden beneath layers of code. And we have our hands tied behind our back since we can't use official Imperial channels to confirm the data."

That was a good point Ringer made. They couldn't trust the Empire for now. The only solution was to rely on non-Imperial resources and perhaps those in the Unknown Regions.

"Huh," Niriz stifled a reply and sat in his chair, more out of shock than anything else. "I would've thought it was some lower ranking officer, perhaps a Captain or Rear Admiral." He tossed the datacard on the table and rubbed his eyes slowly. "But this," he continued, "takes treason to a whole new level."

"Yes, sir, I'm afraid your right," Ringer grunted, nodding in agreement. "We're looking at a full-scale conspiracy. And a Grand Admiral no less."

"Just what we need," Niriz muttered. "Grand Admiral Thrawn has his hands full with Nuso Esva. I can't imagine him being able to handle a Grand Admiral as well, certainly not one with his level of tactical skill."

"You seem to know something about our good friend, Grand Admiral Grant, here," Ringer gritted.

"Well, you're probably not high enough in rank to have access to the level of information necessary to know something about the Grand Admirals," Niriz replied, eyes heavy, "but the Emperor selected twelve of his best fleet commanders for the positions and divided them up into tetrarchs of three each. Each tetrarch concentrated in a specific field of study. This one, "he gestured at the datapad "came from the tactically brilliant section. There are only three other men in the Empire with his level of skill. Two of them are now dead."

"And the third is?" Ringer prompted.

Niriz smiled weakly, "Grand Admiral Thrawn."

…

They were standing in the core, surveying the damage and wreckage that the ordeal had caused.

"WHAT!?" Damien shouted, his cape billowing behind him as he started to lose his anger. His power flowed through his body as his aura emanated with incandescent fury.

"I don't know why Seraph betrayed you," Sage soothed, "but he stole the control key to the Crystal Palace's main core." Hands flickered over the floating crystal ball. "I have no explanation other than sabotage. He's grown paranoid over our plans to unleash Reckoning. We must get that key back, and he must be punished for his treasonous crimes!"

"Why would Seraph do such a thing?!" Damien protested. "He would never betray me, Sage. He's my best friend! My most trusted ally. I just can't believe it."

"Are we going to abandon our plans to reconquer the galaxy and stop the Emperor's return?" Sage retorted. Cold, decrepit hands glided over they crystal ball. "He's already killed one Kore. Will you allow him to get away with another crime?"

"Another Kore?" Damien gasped. "You don't mean, Wisdom?"

"Yes," Sage continued. "I discovered Wen's dead body shortly before confronting Knowledge. When I questioned him, he fled. His behavior clearly betrays his guilt. We must stop him."

"Perhaps he didn't like my presence in the castle," came a voice behind Damien. The Kore of Light turned around to face the alien. "Nuso Esva."

Nuso Esva glided toward them, walking with the regality of an emperor. "I suppose that the Kore of Knowledge thought that our methods were too extreme."

"I don't care what the reason is," Damien shot back. "I will deal with this myself. You are not to interfere, Sage. Do you understand?"

"Of course, my lord," Sage soothed, and bowed his head in mock respect.

Light turned and faded away, presumably to hunt down Knowledge.

"Do you think he suspects something?" Esva enquired to Sage.

"Doubtful," Sage replied. "I've been manipulating him for years, and he hasn't seen through me. I have him right where I want him."

…

"I see a great pain in you. And a great power. Awaken!" The voice was dark, melodious, and deadly. And somehow familiar to Ellysia.

There was the giggle of a little girl in the distance. Wherever Ellysia was. It was hard to tell. She was surrounded by complete darkness. "Is someone there?" she shouted.

Silence.

"Anyone?"

More silence.

Then a figure materialized in the distance. It was an Imperial military soldier with a blue lightsaber in his hand. It was Elliet Doran. Ellysia tried calling out to him, but somehow her voice went silent. She tried to run to him, but no matter how fast she ran she couldn't close the distance.

And as if not noticing her, he turned and walked away into the void.

"You are all alone," the voice spoke again. "You were born alone, and you'll die alone. Your life belongs to ME!"

And then a hand appeared out of the dark shroud grasping for her. It was that monster's hand from her dreams. Was this a dream then? She screamed in horror, though no sound was made. She closed her eyes hoping that it will go away.

And before she knew it, she was writhing in soft bed sheets. Stifling back a yelp, Ellysia jolted out of bed, hair matted against her cheeks. This dream was a little different than then ones she had before. Somehow, it seemed stronger and more real.

"It's about time you woke up," came a voice beside her. Propped up against the wall was that red-haired man Ellysia met on the ship. He wasn't wearing the Imperial uniform anymore. Instead, he had on a dark vesture, with dark green baggy pants, and brown hand-wrapped boots. His hair was looser and a lot more wild than before.

"What am I doing here?" she said. "What happened after I was standing on the cliff? Did you bring me here just so I could witness that?"

"Whoa, calm down," the man replied, putting his hands out in a calming tone. "I don't mean you any harm. I was supposed to bring you here."

"Why?"

The man just shrugged. "Beats me," he replied. "We're under orders to stay put until the Kore of Darkness gets back. He'll explain everything."

She took a look outside the window. The planet was Manajra all right. She was in some kind of castle tower from what Ellysia could tell. She could look down the mountain and see the beautiful and familiar land. And out in the great distance was the great sea. But on the horizon a lightning struck in the distance. And the wind was already starting to pick up.

A storm was coming.