Return of the Sith

by SithMasterJosh

Book 2 of the New Empire Trilogy, the story continues as Darth Arisin and his sister, Emperor's Hand Leia Organa, expand their powers and realize that the war may be over, but conflict will never die.

4. The Dark Lord

Chapter 4: The Dark Lord

"You know, Kay and Drey would have come in handy right about now," Leia whispered. She was regretting her choice to leave them behind at the ship. She and Mara were currently lodged in an access tunnel below Vigo Breyac's outer office, which just happened to be filled with a dozen security guards. Either the vigo knew they were coming, which was unlikely, or he was unbelievably paranoid. Though, given the circumstances, that seemed to be working out for him quite well.

"But what'd be the fun in that, Princess?" Mara whispered back. Leia couldn't tell if the other woman was being sarcastic or not. "Just gimme a minute. I'll get us out of this."

"You mean like how you got yourself out of that wampa's lair?" Leia hissed. "Yeah, great job there. I especially liked the part where I killed it and saved you!"

Mara scoffed. "Fine, Princess. If you have any bright ideas, I'd love to hear them."

Leia thought a moment. "How well can you use the Force?" she asked.

"Well enough," said Mara defensively. "I can move things, detect if someone's lying; you know, simple stuff. And the Emperor's taught me to communicate with him from anywhere in the galaxy." She saw Leia's face sag a little. "Hey, I've been trained as an assassin, Princess, not a Jedi. My Force training has been secondary. But it's never failed me before." Mara was angry that this amateur was questioning her skills, skills she'd been honing since she was a child.

"Alright," Leia said with a smirk. She'd obviously struck a chord. She glanced around the room through the access grate set into the wall at floor level. She studied the room. It was a simple outer office, meant to hold clients until they could be seen by the vigo. It contained a leather couch and a potted plant of some kind. Boring.

The guards, on the other hand, were very interesting. They were posted around the perimeter of the room facing toward the center of floor. Leia imagined anyone waiting in that room would be very nervous sharing space with the likes of them. She studied them up and down and determined that they were likely mercenaries. All of them were armed and armored differently. But then she noticed a small crimson emblem that was painted on each of their shoulder guards. It was in the shape of a circle encased in two opposing crescents. That was the insignia of the Blood Moon pirate gang. These were dangerous people. Any ideas involving taking them on in open battle were immediately thrown away.

She located the most armed of the pirates; the two guarding the doorway into Breyac's office were definitely the better equipped of the bunch. Her eyes swept down their bodies, identifying as many weapons as she could, until they fell upon a single concussion grenade on each of their belts. The idea formed from there.

"You have something in mind, Princess? Or are we gonna wait until they all fall asleep?"

Leia ignored Mara's questions and answered with one of her own. "You see those two by the door?" she asked quietly, gesturing with her head.

"Yeah," said Mara, unsure where this was going.

"See those concussion grenades they have on their belts?" Leia asked with a smile.

"Yes, I do," Mara said, mirroring Leia's grin.

"I need you to set those off," Leia said.

Mara's grin instantly faded. "What? I'm not sure I can do that."

"Why not?" asked Leia, annoyed.

"Because I'm not so good at the precision stuff," Mara admitted. "I mean, sure, I can lift big things and I can float my lightsaber around, but I've never tried pressing a tiny button. Let alone two tiny buttons at once."

"Alright," said Leia slowly. "When I tell you to, just close your eyes and picture yourself walking over to them. See your hand pressing the activator switches. The Force is just an extension of your hand, okay? Think you can manage that?"

"Why can't you do it?" asked Mara in a nervous whisper. Leia had never seen her show this kind of weakness before.

"Because after you activate the fuses, I have about seven seconds to get a grip on all the weapons in the room and make sure they aren't used in case all of the pirates aren't killed or knocked out."

"Oh." Mara gave in, "Alright, I'll give it a try."

"Trying to win loses the war," said Leia wisely. "Be confident. Do."

"Say, that's pretty good," Mara said sarcastically. "Where'd you pick that up?"

"The Emperor."

"Oh." Mara gave Leia an embarrassed laugh. "Okay, then. Doing, it is."

Mara closed her eyes and felt around with the Force. She felt the guards. Traveling down their bodies, she came across the grenades. She felt around them a bit until she located their activators. "I got 'em, Princess. Lemme know when you want them to go."

"Go ahead." Leia prepared herself. Though they were protected where they were, the blast could still impair her focus if she wasn't completely ready for it. She heard two nearly simultaneous beeps.

"Done!" Mara hissed.

Instantly, the guards' blasters were wrenched from their grips and thrown to the center of the room. A few of them managed surprised squawks before the grenades went off.

The guards on the door were killed instantly. Although concussion grenades were meant to be largely non-lethal at distances of several meters or more, anyone holding a grenade when it blows is hit with a shockwave that instantly liquefies their internal organs. Everyone else is merely dazed or knocked unconscious. They're great for incapacitating a large group of people all in close proximity to one another.

Leia waited until she heard the last body fall before she raised her head from its sheltered position to glance out the grate. Not one guard was left standing. She removed the grate and extracted herself from the duct.

"What's going on out there?" yelled a nervous voice over the comm unit in the wall beside the now unguarded door. "Garyn, answer me!" he yelled again. "Blasted pirates!"

Leia lent Mara a hand out of their hiding spot. The Emperor's Hand surveyed the scene. "Not bad, Princess. Not bad at all."

"Thanks," said Leia, a little impressed herself.

"Hello?" came the voice again. "Is there anyone out there who can answer me?"

Mara stepped over the bodies of the two dead guards and pressed the comm button. "Vigo Breyac?"

"Who is this? Where is that gorram pirate Garyn and the rest of the Blood Moons? I heard an explosion!"

"Vigo, I don't suppose you'd like to let us in?" Mara turned to Leia and shrugged. It was worth a shot.

"Absolutely not!" The vigo was angry now. "I demand to know to whom I am speaking!"

"They call me Emperor's Hand, Vigo."

The other end of the comm was silent for a moment.

"Vigo?" asked Leia.

"Who is that, now?" asked the vigo, suddenly finding his voice.

"Enough of this poodoo. Vigo, we're coming in!" Mara ignited her magenta lightsaber and plunged it into the door's locking mechanism. At once, the door slid open. She was about to step through when Leia grabbed her and pulled her backwards nearly off her feet.

"Princess! What in Stars' End…?"

"Wait!" Leia hissed as a steady stream of blaster fire erupted through the doorway where Mara's head had just been. It splattered against the far wall, digging a deep furrow into the durasteel plating. A moment later, two more streams began blasting through the doorway.

"Fierfek!" Mara swore. "He must have an automated system."

"E-Web?" asked Leia.

Mara shook her head. "This kreffing kath hound will have the best. Probably ceiling mounted turrets, top of the line targeting systems, and shield plating. Frak!"

"Any way we can just deflect it long enough to get inside?" Leia asked nodding her head at Mara's still lit lightsaber blade.

Mara shook her head again. "Not a chance. I tried that once with things like this and nearly broke my wrist." She flicked a thumb at the wall, which was dripping molten metal onto the carpet, setting it aflame. "Besides, there's too much and it's too fast. We're karked, Princess."

Leia studied the room and its unconscious occupants, hoping to find something useful.

"I've got an idea," she said slowly. "You said the turrets probably have advanced targeting systems, so that would mean they track movement, correct?"

"That's the general idea, yeah. Standard high quality security package."

"What if we used the bodies to distract them? Then one of us can take them out when they've stopped shooting through the doorway."

Mara smiled. "I like the way you think, Princess. They won't be fooled by the dead ones, though. They detect body heat, respiration, and the tiny electrical impulses in a living brain."

Leia shrugged. "So we use one of the live ones. Will it work?"

"Absolutely," said Mara. "Would you like to float or shoot?"

Leia bent down and retrieved the highly illegal disruptor rifle off of a fallen guard. "I feel like shooting something," she said with a smirk.

Mara deactivated her lightsaber and clipped it back on her belt. "Shooting it is, then. Get ready." Reaching an arm out in front of her, she summoned three of the bodies from their places on the floor. One of them groaned lightly before he was thrust into the stream of blaster fire and silenced permanently. Soon, all three bodies were through the door, taking the blaster bolts with them. They heard the fire intensify in the other room and Leia moved into position.

Jumping into the empty doorway, she quickly traced a stream of fire back to its source, took aim, and fired. The disruptor bolt shot out of the barrel like a bright blue missile of pure energy. The turret exploded like a bomb, showering the floor with red-hot shards of metal. Very few things could stand up to more than one shot from a disruptor rifle.

Within four seconds, Leia had taken out the remaining two turrets and all was quiet. She motioned for Mara to follow her and entered the doorway. They stepped into the hallway leading from the outer office to the vigo's personal office. It was littered with debris, both mechanical and organic. The bodies, which Mara dropped to the floor, were charred beyond recognition. None of them was still in one piece. Smoke and the smell of burnt flesh made Leia's eyes water as they proceeded unhindered down the wide hallway.

At the end of the hallway was a closed door bearing the thorny insignia of Black Sun. Beyond that sealed door sat their quarry. Finally, their mission was coming to an end.

The two women looked at one another, each mirroring the other's expression; it was one of relief and determination. Leia spoke first. She nodded at the door. "You take the left, I'll take the right, we'll meet in the middle," she said, drawing her lightsaber and igniting its violet blade.

Mara likewise snapped open her saber and the two went to work. They plunged the glowing blades into the top of the door and worked in opposite directions, cutting through the material like it was blue butter. The thick metal squealed in protest, but the high-energy blades made short work of it. Within half a minute, they had carved a rough two meter by two meter circle. That half minute was plenty of time for the vigo to potentially arm himself. They would need to exercise caution when entering the room.

Once the circle had been completed, the two Emperor's Hands deactivated their sabers and stepped back as if to examine their handiwork. Leia clipped her lightsaber back on her belt, extended a hand and, with a well-aimed Force blast, knocked out the plug. It toppled into the vigo's office, strands of gooey, molten durasteel still clinging to the hewn edges.

As it crashed to the floor, Leia glimpsed a flash of movement behind the office's huge desk. She was surprised to find that it was nowhere near as garishly decorated as she had expected. Several simple chairs were set up in a semi-circle facing the large, wooden desk, upon which sat piles of flimsiplast sheets, datacards, and a few open datapads. In each corner of the room sat a modest bronzium sculpture, each one resting on a marble pedestal. Several tasteful holoart pieces hung on the walls. Though extravagant for an ordinary citizen, this art collection hardly betrayed the vigo's immense personal wealth. He wasn't flashy, which meant he didn't concern himself with what others thought of him. His reputation was built on his actions, not the pretty things he surrounded himself with. In Leia's mind, Breyac just grew a bit more dangerous. But where was he?

"Oh, Vigo!" Leia called out, almost singsong.

She looked over at Mara, who merely shrugged.

"Vigo!" she called again, this time adding a bit of Force to her voice.

Very slowly, a man stood from behind the desk and faced them with fear in his eyes. His skin was a deep red and in stark contrast to his dark, spiked blue-black hair. He was a Zeltron. And a tall one, too, Leia noted. Almost two meters. Though for all his height, his build was slight.

"What—what do you want?" he asked, his voice shaking. He was trying to hide his fear and failing utterly.

Mara stepped forward, lightsaber still clutched in her hand but deactivated. "Oh, Vigo Breyac," she said as if she were addressing a child. "You are having a very bad day. And depending on your spiritual beliefs, it's potentially about to get much, much worse."

Breyac's eyes widened. "You—you're going to kill me?"

"Unless you'd like to be a dear and just topple over dead and save us the trouble, yes, we're going to kill you."

"It's really nothing personal, Vigo," Leia added. "Well, for us, anyhow."

Despite his fear, Breyac's face adopted a puzzled expression. "What do you mean?"

"ISB discovered that the Rebels hired Black Sun's services to help several agents gain access to Imperial ships," Mara said, letting some anger creep into her voice. "Those ships were destroyed and Imperial lives were lost, Vigo." Mara loved this part. The look on a being's face when they realize the worst mistake they ever made has come back to haunt them was priceless. "Your life is now forfeit by order of the Emperor."

"We didn't know they were Rebels!" he cried. "Our clients remain anonymous!"

"Oh, you knew," Leia said. "Black Sun's spy network and intelligence rivals the Empire's. You knew."

"And if you didn't," added Mara, "you knew that you were giving them exclusive access to Imperial warships. Just the fact that you have the ability to do that makes you a very serious threat."

Breyac stiffened. "Black Sun has a reputation," he said, pride overwhelming the fear he was feeling. "If we refuse a client, word gets out. People start thinking we are incapable."

"Well, congratulations, Vigo. You have upheld your reputation," said Mara. "Unfortunately, after today, Black Sun won't exist to keep it up."

Breyac's eyes widened in shock. "One of my subordinate vigos will—"

He trailed off as Leia slowly shook her head.

"Your council has been wiped out, Breyac," she said. "You are our last head."

"What?" asked the vigo, confused.

"Enough talk!" yelled Mara. Without warning, she activated her lightsaber, locked the blade, and hurled it like a javelin at the vigo. To hers and Leia's surprise, the lightsaber passed right through the vigo and plunged into the wall behind him.

Breyac looked down at his chest where the weapon had passed through. Then slowly, he looked up, a wicked smile plastered across his crimson face. "Good-bye, ladies." Suddenly, he flickered once and disappeared.

"A hologram!" cried Leia.

"Fierfek!" Mara swore loudly. "He was playing us the whole time! It was all an act to buy him time to escape."

Leia nodded in agreement. "There must be an escape hatch beneath the desk."

Mara shook her head in frustration. "He could be anywhere by now."

"I don't suppose the Emperor will just let him go?" offered Leia half-heartedly.

Mara just shot her a sour look. "This mission's not over, Princess."

Leia gave a defeated sigh. "Yeah, I know."

---

The Dark Side was thick here, much more so than the dense jungle that covered the planet's land mass.

Lehon was a world untouched by civilization. Its only sign that sentient life had once been present was a single, crumbling temple tens of thousands of years old. It was amazing that the builders of that decaying temple had created a galaxy-spanning empire that rose and fell before the founding of the Republic and that they, despite their achievements, had been forgotten by the galaxy and by history. They had traveled the stars when the rest of the galaxy was still puttering around their own solar systems. They used the Force thousands of years before the first Jedi would hear the whisperings of power in his ear.

How had such an important and advanced race been simply erased from time itself? Even their homeworld seemed to have forgotten them, and, in turn, been forgotten.

Once it had been known, though. One need only look as far as the thousands of crashed ships imbedded in its surface. But even the youngest ships were centuries old. Whatever had brought them all down had disappeared, ceased functioning. So why hadn't it been colonized now that it was safe? And where had all the animal life gone? Vast oceans that should have spawned fish crash empty against equally empty shorelines. Thick jungles that should be abuzz with the sounds of insects and primates sit quiet, the only sounds coming from the breeze as it sweeps through the foliage. Where was it all?

It was blatantly clear that Lehon was capable of supporting life. Vegetation covered every square kilometer of land. A planet such as this devoid of animal life was an impossibility. It was…wrong. Something had to be keeping life from developing. Or had eradicated it. Lightsaber in hand, hacking his way through the eerie lifeless jungle, Darth Arisin, the newest Dark Lord of the Sith, intended to find the answer to that question.

He'd been burning a swath through the thick plant life for nearly an hour. He was following the pull of the Dark Side the way migrating avians follow their planet's electromagnetic fields. The Dark Side called to him, willing him to follow its voice. It promised him great power. It guided his steps. And it told him that that which he sought was directly ahead.

Kyle's eyes flashed open. His vision was blurred but rapidly clearing. He found himself strapped to a table. Again. He swore silently to himself as memories came flooding back. Memories of pain, fear, and death. His own.

"Oh, good. You're awake," an old man's voice broke into Kyle's thoughts. The Emperor. "You put on quite the show. I dare say I rather enjoyed myself." There was a soft, perverse chuckle, then a dark shape entered Kyle's field of vision. "I trust your senses are returning somewhat faster than last time? The process tends to speed up with each transfer as it becomes less of a strain on the mind."

"I'm glad I was able to entertain you," Kyle said in a hoarse whisper, using his new vocal chords for the first time. "So when are you just gonna kill me for good? I have reservations for the opera next week and I'd like to know if I'm gonna be around for 'em or not." He coughed as he got used to his new lungs. Then he cringed as his recent death came bubbling back up in his mind.

Stepping fully into view, the Emperor flicked his wrist and Kyle's restraints fell away. "Oh, you shall not be permanently killed for quite some time," he assured him.

Kyle sat up and rubbed his eyes, as though he could drive the Emperor from his mind as easily as he would a bad dream. He stood awkwardly on his unused legs. The lab's floor was cold beneath his bare feet.

"I do not believe that that death will be delivered by me, however," the Emperor added as Kyle donned the simple tunic he'd been provided with. "You will eventually see that I am a fair man, that I am not the tyrant you see me as. One day, you will call me 'Master'."

"So, what," said Kyle as he slipped on a pair of hospital slippers, "you're gonna train me in the Force? Am I to become just another of your flunkies?"

The Emperor smiled. "That would be the idea. The Force flows strongly in your veins. However, you would be much more than a mere 'flunky'," he said. "You would be one of my Hands. An agent of the Empire. An extension of my will in the galaxy. You would answer to no one but me, have the entire resources of the Empire at your disposal."

Kyle shook his head. "Thanks, but no thanks, old man. Kindly show me back to my cell while you cook up my next execution."

"Now there's and interesting idea," said the Emperor with a malicious grin.

"What?" asked a confused Kyle.

The Emperor turned to walk away. "Cooking."

---

The plan had worked perfectly. Breyac congratulated himself on his deception of the two Imperial assassins. The moment he had heard the concussion blast, he'd slipped through the escape tunnel he had hidden beneath his desk. Not even his top vigos knew of its existence. Some may have considered him paranoid, but he doubted any of them would argue that it had most certainly saved his life. The tunnel led directly to a ship via magsled, which he kept ready to fly at a moment's notice. From the ship, all he had to do was interact with the women as though he were there in the room as opposed to kilometers away in an advanced holochamber. It was delectably simple yet unquestioningly effective.

He'd had a top-of-the-line holorecording system installed aboard his ship for just this sort of occasion. It was so sophisticated that, until one attempted physical interaction with the hologram, it was almost impossible to tell the difference between it and the real thing. The audio system installed in various parts of the office could perfectly replicate the voice of the speaker, matching tone, reverberation, and echo.

The trickiest part of the charade had been feigning surprise and fear. In reality, he was annoyed that they had broken into his stronghold and amused that they thought they could get anywhere near him even after having gotten past his security. If he had appeared too confident, the women would have known something was wrong and his ruse would be over. But, he managed to distract them long enough for the ship to break Coruscant's gravity well. His ship had leapt into hyperspace just seconds after the assassins had witnessed his vanishing act.

Now safely in hyperspace, he allowed himself to mull over the recent events. He was sitting in his posh cabin aboard his personal ship, the Silver Bullet. The Bullet was a relatively antiquated H-Type Nubian Staryacht. Though an older model, it was heavily modified with all the most advanced technology and served its purpose well.

Dart-shaped and covered in a silver mirror finish, the ship was a popular model in the Royal House of Naboo in decades past. When he had seen one of the vessels during a visit to that planet, he immediately contacted Nubian Star Drives, Incorporated and ordered the Bullet.

How had these women infiltrated his operation so easily? These weren't just any Imperial agents, he though to himself, running his fingers through his spiked black hair. A few simple calls had confirmed that they spoke the truth about his other vigos. They were all dead. Black Sun was crippled. Somehow, these two individuals had brought the greatest criminal organization in the galaxy to its knees. What had they called themselves? He remembered. Emperor's Hand. Both had carried lightsabers, the weapon of the Jedi. No, he thought. The Jedi are all dead. They must be…something else. But what?

Breyac had a secret safe house on a Mid Rim world called Ruusan. It was the site of some huge battle between the Jedi and their enemies, the Sith. The planet had remained uninhabited since the battle a thousand years ago. The galaxy had simply forgotten it. It wasn't even on any hyperspace maps. He could hide out there, safe and sound, while he considered his next move.

---

Arisin's lightsaber was extinguished even before the tree crashed to the ground. Clipping it back to his belt, he was finally able to step into the clearing. The Force was strong here. At the center of the clearing sat a large chunk of the debris imbedded deep into the ground. It sang with the Dark Side. This is what had called him all this way. Beckoned to him. The Star Forge.

According to Darth Revan's holocron, the Star Forge had been constructed millennia before the founding of the Republic. The Builders, the Rakatans, powered the Forge with the Force itself. With the Dark Side. It had been an enormous factory, able to produce hundreds of ships daily. Unfortunately, the Dark Side was so strong around the Star Forge that it began to corrupt the Builders, who were too weak willed to withstand the prolonged exposure. Eventually, the so-called Infinite Empire disappeared and the Star Forge was forgotten.

The immense structure had remained lost but intact until four thousand years prior to the end of the Republic. Jedi Knights Revan and Malak, having heard rumors of this space station, sought it as a way to supply the Republic with weapons and starships for the war with the invading Mandalorians. During their search, the two highly revered Jedi turned to the Dark Side. Revan and his disciple each took the title "Darth" and joined the ranks of the Sith Lords.

Though the Mandalorian War had been won without the aide of the Star Forge, the two Sith did not give up their quest to locate it. When at last they found it, they used it to wage war on the Republic, which, at the urging of the Jedi Council, had branded them war criminals. They used the Star Forge to build a Sith fleet the likes of which the Republic had never seen.

The Forge had been positioned over Lehon's sun, drawing raw elements directly from the star itself. There it sat, turning out countless ships for the Sith fleet until it was discovered by the Republic and destroyed. The battle was epic and much of the Republic fleet was lost, but in the end, the Star Forge had been obliterated, much of the debris finding its way to Lehon, the closest planet. Though destroyed, the Forge still held incredible power. If one knew how to use it.

Revan's holocron had taught Arisin techniques that allowed him to draw upon the Force energy of an outside source. Typically, it was utilized to drain the Force from another living being, but he saw no reason why it couldn't be applied to objects imbued with the Force as well.

Lord Arisin approached the wreckage with caution. It was big; perhaps seven meters of it stuck out of the ground. There was no telling how much lay buried beneath the surface. Eons had eroded the impact crater into a level clearing thirty meters wide. He removed his leather gloves and pressed his bare hands to the dark metal. Despite the chill of the night, the metal was quite warm. The moment he came into physical contact with the strange metal, he felt a surge of energy enter his body. It was similar to the power boost he got on Korriban, only much stronger. He closed his eyes and concentrated, slowly draining its power, willing it to pass into him. He could feel the power of the Star Forge coursing through his veins. He felt the Force draining from the debris as he felt his own swell.

The feeling was indescribable. It was as if he was getting new life breathed into him. It was incredible. His eyes still closed, he took a deep breath and inhaled his new power.

When he awoke from his deep trance, it was nearing dawn. Though the darkness of the night still lingered, pale fingers of sunlight were slowly creeping up the horizon. He didn't remember blacking out. The last thing he could recall was a feeling of absolute power, invincibility, as though he held the entire universe in the palm of his hand. He still had his hands pressed against the debris; his fingers had amazingly left deep gouges in the metal with no apparent damage to himself. He inspected his hands as he put his gloves back on. It was then that he noticed something else he didn't remember.

Amazingly, he had constructed a new lightsaber. The device hung from his hip where it normally did, but it wasn't the same one he had carried the past year.

Without thinking, he unclipped it and thumbed the activator. A shining crimson blade erupted from the emitter, casting an eerie red glow around the clearing. It hummed with great power. And the Dark Side. He could sense the weapon's presence in the Force. He probed it further with his mind. Yes, it was unmistakable. He saw that he had used elements of his old saber and incorporated pieces from the Star Forge into the design and construction of the new one. He had obviously installed the crystal that he had forged on Korriban. Those two elements combined gave the lightsaber a powerful physical presence in the Force.

He didn't recognize the hilt's design. Its core was a basic cylinder, but strange prongs were affixed to either side of the emitter and to the semi-spherical end cap. It was extremely light in his hand, but he felt more than knew that it was very strong. It was attuned to him through the Force, constructed to be wielded only by him.

And while he felt incredible Force energy coming from the weapon in his hand, the piece of the Star Forge in front of him felt as dead to the Force as a glass of water, nothing more than cold, twisted metal. The technique had worked. He had absorbed every last drop of Force power the wreckage had to offer.

There were other sources of power in the area, though. He could feel them calling to him as this one had, offering him their own Force. His physical energies replenished, he set off in search of more power.

Trudging through the jungle, Arisin hacked a narrow path to the next piece of Star Forge debris. The thick foliage sizzled as his new blade sliced through the succulent leaves and stalks. The new weapon felt good in his hands, as if it belonged there. Even more than before, it felt as though it was an extension of his being, of his very will. Its hum was music to his ears. It was a hum of victory, of accomplishment. A hum of power. He smiled and gripped the blade tighter, swinging it effortlessly through a dense patch of ferns. His only true regret was that it would never know the honor of meeting another blade in true combat. It seemed a pity that such a beautiful and powerful weapon should go its whole life without the honor of defeating a foe on equal terms.

Perhaps, Arisin thought to himself, there is some surviving Jedi Knight out there, just waiting to strike at the Emperor. Though the chances were slim, the thought cheered him up some.

Before too long, he reached a clearing nearly identical to the one before, albeit a bit smaller. Through the trees, he could make out the massive hunk of space debris imbedded into the ground and the cleared area around it. One notable difference between this clearing and the last, Arisin noticed as he stepped into the rough circle, was the blue-skinned Twi'lek Sith Lord Kas'im standing in the center, arms folded and waiting for him.

---

For three weeks, Palpatine had been training under the tutelage of Darth Plagueis. Since that fateful night, he had made astounding progress. Plagueis hadn't told him such, but the boy had a feeling the Sith Master was quite impressed. It seemed he excelled at everything.

His driving force was his deep-seeded hatred of the Jedi. He strove to train to be the greatest of the Sith Lords so that one day, he may march through the Jedi Temple and wipe them out to their last. But Master Plagueis had admonished him for such thoughts.

"Though your determination is admirable," the Muun droned, "your plans are foolhardy. The Jedi will not be defeated by brute force," he explained. "For millennia, the Sith have been trying, and by and large, failing, to destroy them with mindless violence alone.

"The true key to victory is not the power of the Force alone, but the also power of influence. However, it is a painstakingly slow process and you must have patience," Plagueis admitted. "In order to achieve true mastery of the Force and wield ultimate power, you must begin by gaining power over yourself; then another; then a group; an order; a world; a species; a group of species…finally," he said, "the Galaxy itself!"

Palpatine had been awed by his new master's wise words. He knew he had the patience he'd need to achieve his goal. As deep as his hatred ran, as much as he longed to see them all annihilated, he knew he could wait until the time was right, whenever that may be, if it guaranteed his success. It was just too big and too long awaited a plan to ruin just because he was impatient.

"I can do it, Master," he said confidently.

"Yes," said Plagueis, matching his tone, "I believe you can."

The Emperor drifted back into the Now. Since taking on young Skywalker as his apprentice, he found himself reliving his own training more and more. Perhaps it was because he saw so much of himself reflected in Lord Arisin. Despite having claimed to be a Jedi Knight, once presented with all the facts, Arisin had come to the same conclusions about the Jedi that he himself had as a youth.

The Emperor's thoughts were interrupted by a soft metallic tapping at his office door. Puzzled that he was unable sense who was behind it, he raised an eyebrow as he unlocked it with the push of a button. "Enter," he boomed.

The large door slid open with a slight hiss, revealing a very nervous-looking golden droid and his squat, wheeled counterpart.

"Ah," the Emperor said upon recognizing them. "See-Threepio and Artoo Deetoo. Come inside."

"Thank you, Your Majesty," Threepio said politely, offering the Emperor a stiff nod. His servos whirred softly as he shuffled to the desk, Artoo rolling silently behind him.

"What do you want?" the Emperor asked pointedly.

Artoo whistled something harsh.

Threepio's eyes flashed and he threw his arms up in surprise. "Artoo Deetoo!" he yelled. "You mind your manners! This is the Emperor!" A tarnished silver foot collided against the little droid's side with a dull clang. He turned back to the Emperor, somehow looking apologetic despite the frozen expression of his faceplate. "I'm so sorry, Your Eminence! Please forgive him. He's just an astromech, after all. He doesn't know any better." He turned back to the droid, "Though he should," he added with another kick.

Palpatine had to chuckle at the ridiculous pair. "Worry not, my golden friend," he said, looking at Artoo through half squinted eyes. "He saved my life many years ago. For that, I will always be grateful." He looked back up at Threepio. "What was it that you wanted?" the Emperor asked again.

"Oh!" Threepio's eyes flashed a little brighter. "I almost forgot! I—" He was interrupted by a flurry of beeps and whistles. Annoyed, Threepio continued. "We were wondering when Mistress Leia will be returning to the Palace. Artoo is concerned. I informed him that she is more than capable of protecting herself, of course, but…well, he worries."

Palpatine nodded. He'd never seen such devotion in a droid before. "I have just this morning received word from her partner," he assured them. "Her mission has hit an obstacle and will require her to be gone longer than anticipated."

"Oh, dear!" Threepio exclaimed. "I do hope it's nothing serious!"

The Emperor smiled. "I am told that your mistress is quite well."

Artoo beeped something and Palpatine put on his nicest smile despite his loathing. That infernal droid had been a nuisance for over three decades.

"If that is all…," he said.

"Oh, of course, Your Majesty," Threepio said. "We'll be on our way. Come along, Artoo." He turned and started back out of the office.

"Actually," the Emperor stopped him. "I'd very much like to speak with your counterpart. We have much to…catch up on. Privately."

Threepio tilted his head in confusion. "But, sir, how will you understand him? I was unaware that you were fluent in droidspeak."

"You needn't worry about that," the Emperor assured him. "I promise, he will be returned to you very shortly." He motioned politely to the still open door. Threepio nodded and, if somewhat hesitantly, shuffled out into the hall. Palpatine waited until the sound of the droid's servos had faded into the distance before sealing the office door from his desk.

He stood from his throne and stepped toward the little droid, snatching a datapad from his desk. He knelt before Artoo, no easy task for a man his age. He looked directly into the astrodroid's optical receptor.

"I understand that you have never had your memory wiped," he said. "I want to know exactly what information you have stored in that electronic brain of yours." His tone had shifted radically from polite to menacing since the protocol droid's departure.

Artoo twittled a response.

The Emperor looked down at the words scrolling across the datapad screen. "Everything," he said upon reading the question. "Everything in your databanks about me."

The little droid let out a slow series of bleeps.

Again, Palpatine read the words.

"'Why?'" he asked. "You must know that you are a risk to me. I must know exactly what you know about me; assess just how big a risk you pose." He softened his tone and laid a pale hand on Artoo's dome. "Please, old friend. You once trusted me. Indeed, you helped to save me. I ask you to trust me again."

Artoo retorted that Palpatine had never actually needed saving and that instigating a civil war was hardly the sort of thing done by someone whom he could trust.

Palpatine's eyes narrowed in anger as they swept back and forth across the screen, reading every last word. When he had finished, he slowly looked back up at the squat droid sitting ever defiant before him.

"I," he began, his tone dangerously cold, "unlike many in this galaxy, recognize that droids have a certain level of sentience and even, in some cases, emotions." His tone became as hard as durasteel. "I know there are ways to inflict pain and discomfort without damaging you permanently. I assure you, it would be much easier to give me the information freely. I could dismantle you," he said, "and access your memory that way. Or," he added with a slight tug at the corner of his mouth, "I could simply destroy you right here, right now. Your Mistress would be most unhappy with me if it came to that, so I'd prefer to keep you intact, but I will do what I must."

Artoo made a slow whistle, clearly thinking over his options.

"Do keep in mind that the Rebellion has been crushed," Palpatine reminded the little droid. "There are no more heroics required of you. You've nothing to gain by not cooperating."

The droid took in the Emperor's words silently before rattling off a long series of digital words.

The Emperor smiled as he read the text scrolling across the screen.

"There," he said. "I knew you could be reasonable."

---

They were back aboard the Jade Saber within the hour. Leia and Mara had spent the entire journey back thinking up increasingly creative and violent ways for the vigo to die. So far, keelhauling was top of the list.

Mara punched hyperspace coordinates into the navicomp as Leia explained the situation to the Noghri. Had they brought them along, they could have detected instantly that the office had been empty of organics. But nooo, Mara thought. We had to do it ourselves.

She thumbed the intercom switch. "Hang on, Princess. I'm making the jump to light-speed."

"All secure back here," Leia's voice answered back.

Mara pulled back on the hyperdrive levers and felt the unmistakable sensation of the ship lurching into hyperspace. A few moments later, Leia joined her in the small cockpit.

"So what's the plan?" Leia asked as she settled down into the co-pilot's chair.

Not bothering to look over, Mara answered, "Nar Shaddaa."

Leia was unable to hide her surprise. "What? Why are we going back to that rotting stinkhole?"

"Because, Princess," Mara finally turned to face the other woman, "there are people there who can help us track Breyac."

Leia could tell she didn't like it anymore than she did herself, but she pressed on anyway. "With the resources of the Empire at our disposal we're still forced to rely on criminals? I thought the whole point of getting rid of Black Sun was so that we didn't have to use their kind anymore."

Mara narrowed her eyes in obvious annoyance. "Not so long ago, you yourself were a criminal, and here the Emperor is relying on your help."

Though stung by the comment, Leia's expression betrayed no emotion. "Alright," she said. "Point taken. ETA?"

Mara sighed. "Okay, I'm sorry. I'm just…frustrated." She consulted her nav screen. "We should be hitting Nar Shaddaa atmo in roughly a day and a half."

"Can't wait," Leia said sarcastically. For a few tense moments, the two women sat in awkward, screaming silence. Finally, Mara spoke.

"So, Princess," she began.

"I really wish you would stop calling me that," Leia snapped. Then quietly, "I'm not a princess anymore."

"Right," Mara said, a hint of apology in her voice. "Leia. I was wondering if, maybe…"

"Yes?"

Mara bit her lip. This was completely out of character of her to ask. "Well, I thought maybe we could…spar a little?" She added quickly, "It's just that the Emperor hasn't ever instructed me. He left that up to Vader, who always managed to have an excuse to get him out of it." She looked embarrassed. "I'm mostly just self-taught. Droids are okay for learning, but you need an organic partner from time to time, you know?"

Leia knew how hard that confession must've been for the other woman. She was a strong spirit, and to admit inferiority to someone she felt superior to must sting. Leia felt bad for her, but there was a measure of self-satisfaction there, too. She gave Mara her most sincere smile. "Mara," she said, "I'd love to spar with you. Just say the word."

Mara had been unsure how Leia would react. She found the former Rebel to be a bit unpredictable. Needless to say, she was pleased with the positive response. "How about now?" she suggested. "We still have a good thirty-six hours to kill."

Leia stood and stretched her arms above her head, arching her back and laying her palms flat on the ceiling. "Sounds like a plan," she said. "I'll meet you in the cargo hold in five minutes." She left Mara alone to set the automatic controls. The kaleidoscopic hyperspace tunnel outside the ship cast an eerie light that reflected off every metallic surface in the cabin. Mara stood transfixed, just watching it for a few moments, before turning to leave.

Fifteen minutes later, the ship was filled with the sounds of frantic battle. The crash of lightsabers reverberated throughout the empty hallways and corridors of the Jade Sabre. Mixed in were the strained grunts and groans of the two combatants.

"That was good, Jade," Leia said as she batted away a blow coming down from her left.

"Thanks," Mara said through teeth gritted against the strain of trying to overpower a particularly brutal offensive combination. The blades clashed and whirled wildly as the two danced around the mostly empty cargo hold.

"So when did—Whoa!" Leia jumped backward a step to avoid an uncomfortably close slash from Mara's magenta blade. "Nice one," she said with a smile. "As I was saying, when did the Emperor…acquire you?"

"I," Mara began, pausing to beat Leia back a few steps before rolling out of the path of a surprise wrist flick that would have sent Leia's purple blade burning into her torso just below her ribcage. Luckily, she got a handy tug from the Force just in time. "I was taken from my family when I was four," she said breathlessly. "The Emperor never told me exactly how he procured me and I never asked. He and the Empire are all the family I need." She lost a few meters of ground as Leia drove her towards some shipping crates. "Even Vader was like a moody uncle or something," she said with a smirk.

Leia let out a burst of laughter that almost cost her a singed shoulder. As she recovered from the near miss, she said, "Vader? Moody? NO!"

"Oh, yeah," Mara said, smiling. "You'd think he was all cubs and rainbows, but he actually had a bit of a temper."

"Mara, that's like calling the Death Star a long-distance backscratcher," Leia said with a laugh. Leia and Mara sparred for over an hour. For the first time since starting their mission, they were having fun.

Blades locked, squealing in protest, they stared each other in the eyes. Neither of them was backing down. After a moment, Leia relaxed her stance, indicating that practice was over. She extinguished her blade and clipped it back to her belt. Mara did the same.

"You're really good!" Mara said, breathing hard.

Leia wiped sweat from her brow. She was soaked. "You aren't half bad yourself. Self-taught, you said?"

Mara nodded sheepishly. "Yeah, mostly. I mean, Vader showed me the basics, but I really just built my own style off of that." She shrugged. "Didn't have much choice."

"Well it's pretty good," Leia said. "I haven't been practicing bladework long, but you seem like a natural to me. How much of that was you and how much was the Force?"

Mara thought a moment. "I'd say about fifty-fifty," she answered. "I haven't learned how to just give myself over to the Force yet."

They started to make their way out of the hold. "You know," said Leia, motioning for Mara to go first, "I don't think it's something you can really learn. I think it just sort of happens. The Force just takes over you in the moment. You become one with it."

Mara had stepped halfway through the door when Leia shot out an arm and grabbed her by the shoulder. "Mara," she asked, "do you know how to conjure lightning? Like the Emperor can?"

Mara took a moment before answering, looking down at the floor. "I've done it once," she said softly. She looked back up at Leia. "The Emperor hasn't formally taught me. He says that it's dangerous for someone too inexperienced. But there was one time," she shook her head, remembering what happened. "I was so angry and frustrated. I just lashed out. It took a lot out of me, burned my hands pretty good. The Emperor was angry with me about it, but I think he was a little impressed, too."

"Do you remember how you did it?" Leia pressed. "Any conscious thought at all?"

Mara was shaking her head. "No. I didn't even mean to do it. All I remember was hating him more than I've ever hated anyone in my life. It was really powerful."

Leia pulled Mara back into the cargo area. "Show me."

Mara scoffed. "Didn't you hear me? I can't. I don't know how."

"You did it once," Leia countered. "Try it again. There," she pointed to a large crate. "Try it on that."

"I can't!" Mara yelled. "Are you dense?"

"Please," Leia pressed. She wasn't backing down.

Mara looked as though she was going to argue, then gave a defeated sigh. "Fine," she said. "I'll try—er—I'll do it."

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She held her right hand outstretched before her, her fingers splayed like claws. A tremble ran through her body, her arm began to waver. Then Leia saw it. A spark. It had leapt between Mara's fingers. It was weak, but it was there.

"You're close," she told her. "I saw a spark. Whatever you're doing, keep it up."

Mara wrinkled her brow. Sweat poured down her face, which was contorted with the extreme concentration. Her whole body shook from exertion. She flexed her hand then pointed her fingers out straight, simultaneously thrusting her arm forward through the air. A brief but bright flash of energy jumped from the tips of her fingers.

Eyes still closed, she said, "I'm not sure I can do this." Her voice was weak. She sounded exhausted. "It's taking a lot out of me."

"You can," Leia urged her. "You've almost got it. Try imagining something that makes you angry. What did it the first time?"

"The Emperor," Mara said. "I was seventeen. I failed to complete a mission, an assassination. The target got away. He called me a worthless kath pup, too weak and pathetic to live." As she recalled the event, fresh pain welled up inside of her. And with it came fresh anger.

"Use that," Leia told her, feeling a little bad for making her remember. "Remember how much that hurt you, how angry it made you. Just focus—"

"I think I got it," Mara interrupted, sounding completely confident now. She took a deep breath, concentrating on that day. She remembered the pain she felt when her master, the only father she'd ever known, told her she was unfit to live. She remembered how much she had hated him for that. She was not worthless. She was not weak. She was strong!

Mara let out an angry yell and bright plasma lightning erupted from her fingertips and cascaded in waves over the empty crate. Her cry seemed to last for minutes, all the while the violent energy poured out of her, sparking against the floor and bulkhead and leaving angry black burns in the durasteel. Her legs buckled and she dropped to her knees, her scream and her attack both abruptly ending simultaneously. Leia stood watching in stunned silence. Mara grabbed Leia's wrist weakly, trying to pull herself up. Leia helped her to her feet. Mara's expression was clear. Her display had terrified her, but there was some measure of pride behind the fear.

Leia was grinning from ear to ear. "You did it! I knew you could!"

Mara's face had paled; her body trembled and threatened to collapse. She allowed herself a weak smile. "Yeah," she said. "I guess I did." She shook her head. "That was…intense. The feeling of raw power…I've never felt anything like it. Not even the last time. It was amazing."

"Walk me through it," Leia said suddenly.

"What?" Mara asked groggily. "You? I'm not sure it's something you should be messing with. Not so early in your training. I mean, I've been using the Force my whole life and this…this just totally drained me." As if to bolster her argument, she swayed on her feet and had to steady herself against the bulkhead.

Leia reached out and helped steady her. "Please. I'll be fine." She added, "This mission is about testing my limits and expanding my power. I want to do this."

Leia could see the conflict in Mara's eyes. "I just don't know, Leia," she said. "You-you may not be able to handle it. I could barely handle it. And look at me, I'm a wreck."

"I bet it gets easier with time. I'm willing to risk it," Leia said defiantly.

Mara sighed, shaking her fiery mane in defeat. "Alright," she said. She stepped behind Leia, keeping one hand on the wall for support. She allowed herself to sink to the floor and closed her eyes. "First you have to think of something that hurts. Something that makes you hate. Then you have to destroy it. You need to feel as though annihilating this thing is what you want more than anything in the universe."

"Okay," Leia said, stepping up to the spot where Mara had stood. She closed her eyes and concentrated. She extended her hand, emulating Mara.

"You have to feel the Force gathering in your chest," Mara instructed, sounding a bit stronger. "Allow it to fill you up. Think of your body as an overloading powercell. Wait for the charge to reach critical mass, and then siphon the energy through your hands."

Leia did as she was told. She focused on memories that were painful, memories that she normally suppressed. She remembered being nineteen, standing behind the cadaverous psychopath Grand Moff Tarkin aboard the first Death Star. She remembered Darth Vader, her father, planting a firm hand on her shoulder, forcing her to watch as her home planet was obliterated. Forcing her to watch as her family, her friends, everyone she'd ever known and loved, simply ceased to exist. Her mind wandered to memories more recent. She thought back to her horror as she witnessed her brother torture and kill the man she loved.

Leia felt the anger welling up inside her. It gathered into a tight ball of hate square in her chest. She focused the Force inward, allowed the ball to grow. The pulsating darkness within her threatened to explode out in every direction. She resisted the urge to release the energy, instead stoking this inner fire even more. Her body began to tremble with fatigue. Feeling critical mass at last, she lowered the barrier containing the energy and funneled it through her arms and out her fingertips. Blue-white fire erupted from her hands and lashed out at the already demolished cargo crate. Energy bolts snaked around the container, blackening every surface they touched. She closed her fist, halting the flow of energy, and then abruptly knew only darkness.

---

Arisin masked his surprise at seeing the lone figure waiting for him. Instantly he sized him up. He was tall, close to two meters. He was a Twi'lek, dressed in plain, somewhat familiar clothing. Then something caught Arisin's eye. A long cylindrical device hung at the Twi'lek's hip. It was a lightsaber. The very same lightsaber that he found hours before in the temple ruins.

"That would make you Kas'im, wouldn't it?" Arisin addressed the being before him.

"Yes," said the same voice Arisin had heard on the audio diary entries. "Yes, I suppose it would." He unfolded his arms. "Might I be so bold as to inquire who you are and what exactly you're doing here?"

Arisin stepped forward into the grassy clearing. "It is a thousand years since your death. The Sith now number only two at any one time. I," he laid a hand on his chest, "am Darth Arisin." He noticed Kas'im wrinkle his nose at the title "Darth," as though he had smelled something foul. "I have only recently been ordained into the Order. My mission is to seek the knowledge of the Sith and to serve my master as best I can."

"And your master would be…?" Kas'im inquired.

"His Majesty, the Emperor, Darth Sidious," Arisin proudly informed him.

Kas'im sighed. "Have you all taken the title 'Darth' for yourselves?"

Arisin nodded. "Since your student, Bane, wiped out the Sith and re-forged the Order."

"I see," Kas'im said in an even and carefully measured tone. "And what of this Darth Sidious? You called him 'Emperor'. Emperor of what, exactly?"

Arisin was growing weary of telling this story. "My master was elected Supreme Chancellor of the Republic," he explained flatly. "He then destroyed the Jedi Order and declared the Republic an Empire. And so it's been for twenty-five years now."

Kas'im raised an eyebrow. "Do you mean to say that Bane's ridiculous 'Rule of Two' actually succeeded?"

Arisin nodded again. "It took many generations, a thousand years, but yes. The Jedi are no more and the galaxy belongs to the Sith."

Kas'im chuckled lightly. "You truly believe the Jedi extinct?"

Arisin hesitated a moment before answering. "No," he said finally. "No, I believe there are Jedi who still live. But they are old, they are alone, and now they are forced to live in hiding. Their order is broken. While some may still exist, their Order is effectively extinct."

"A single spark can ignite a blaze capable of destroying an entire city," countered Kas'im. "You are wise to not accept the Jedi as forever gone but naïve to dismiss those still alive as no threat. If what you say is true, the Sith existed as two individuals for a millennium and they managed to take down the entire Jedi Order and the Republic."

Growing angry, Arisin pointed a menacing finger at the specter. "We are powerful enough to deal with any Jedi who decides to try something stupid."

"Of course you are," Kas'im said. Arisin detected the obvious patronizing note in his voice.

"What is it you're doing here, Kas'im? Why were you waiting for me?" Arisin gritted his teeth in anger, working the muscles of his jaw.

"I have no choice but to be here," Kas'im answered drearily. "The immense Dark Side saturation of the area trapped my essence when I died. I have been stuck here ever since, unable to move on. When you arrived, your presence was impossible to ignore. I was curious, drawn to the being with so much power." He paused a moment. "I wonder," he said, "what exactly it is you are doing here. You claim to be searching for knowledge of the Sith, but as I told Bane all those centuries ago, there is nothing to be learned here."

"This planet has a strong connection to the Dark Side," Arisin said simply.

"Power for power's sake is dangerous, Lord Arisin," said Kas'im, inferring the Sith Lord's meaning. "That is what you are doing here, is it not? Accumulating power?" Kas'im didn't give Arisin the chance to answer. "I sensed a massive disturbance in the area. It was you, sapping the Force out of the wreckage of the Star Forge, wasn't it?"

"It was," Arisin said in a dark voice. He narrowed his yellow eyes. "Just as I intend to drain the Force from the piece behind you. And every piece in the area."

Kas'im scoffed.

"You believe me a fool?" asked Arisin.

"I believe you too young and inexperienced to fully comprehend what you are doing," corrected Kas'im.

"What do you mean?"

Kas'im instantly adopted the role of the patient teacher Arisin had seen during his journey through space and time.

"How long have you been practicing the Force?" the blademaster asked. "At what age did you come into your power?"

"I was trained by a Jedi at the age of nineteen," Arisin answered.

"A Jedi?" Kas'im asked, surprised.

"He's now dead. That was four years ago," Arisin said.

The Sith spirit nodded in understanding. "You are young," he repeated. "You have only the most basic understanding of the Force. Your power is great, which makes you feel invincible. You have a taste of what you are capable and you want more.

"But the Force is not something you can simply consume at will. Too much too fast will destroy you. Why is it, you think, that the Sith and Jedi alike take lifetimes to hone and master the Force?"

Arisin thought hard over his words. There was undeniable wisdom in them. "I understand what you're saying, Lord Kas'im," he said. "I do. But you have one thing wrong. I do not seek power for power's sake. I seek the power to better serve my master and my Empire. More than power, I seek knowledge. The knowledge of the Ancient Sith, the most powerful beings this galaxy has ever known. I strive to bring peace to the galaxy and glory to the Sith."

"Bane once told me that glory was a fool's prize," said Kas'im, not quite convinced by Arisin's words.

"And he is right," Arisin admitted. "To a point. I want the galaxy to see the Sith as I now see them, as the true guardians of peace and justice and the true masters of the Force. I want to rid the Sith of the bad name the Jedi have been giving them, and that they have been giving themselves, for millennia."

"And that is most admirable, Lord Arisin," the Twi'lek told him. "It truly is. I only urge you to consider the consequences of pushing yourself too far too fast. What you desire will take decades. You cannot think that by gaining unlimited power, you can reach your goal any faster. That power will corrupt your inexperienced soul. It will destroy you."

"And this is without a doubt my fate?" Arisin asked. "There isn't the slightest chance that I am strong enough to handle this power?"

Kas'im hesitated. Arisin saw conflict in his eyes.

"No," he said finally. "I cannot say for certain that you will be destroyed."

"Then I'm sorry, Master Kas'im, but it's a risk I'm willing to take," Arisin said defiantly. "I appreciate your concern and will heed your warning. Of that, you have my word. But I feel that it's my destiny to do this. No matter what happens, I'm meant to continue my mission until I either succeed or die trying."

"You are an enigma to me, Lord Arisin," said Kas'im, folding his arms across his chest. "Your intentions are pure. Indeed, your heart is as pure as any Jedi's. But the Dark Side is clearly yours to command. You are unquestionably Sith. Perhaps you are neither. A hybrid. The perfect Force-user." He shook his head, a lekku slipping off his shoulder. "Whatever you are, I, too, sense that it is your destiny. I wish you well on your journey." He bowed. "May the Force be with you." Before Arisin could say a word, Kas'im vanished, leaving the clearing empty of all but the Star Forge debris, which still beckoned him with tantalizing waves of Dark Side energy. He took no time to contemplate his encounter with the ancient blademaster. He set right to work drawing the power of the Star Forge into himself. As he did so, he felt more than ever that the path before him was clear, that he was doing exactly as he was meant to.

He dropped to his knees and spread his arms wide as he drank in the power. Everything was as it should be.

---

Kyle Katarn awoke feeling the familiar disorientation of using his…everything…for the first time. The old man had been right about one thing, he thought as his vision cleared. Every time, his senses came back to him just a little bit faster. This time, his fifth, if his somewhat groggy memory could be trusted, seemed no more disorientating than waking from a particularly bad dream. Except in place of the reassuring knowledge that it wasn't real was the spirit crushing memory of trauma that was all too real. Instead of waking from a nightmare, he was waking into one.

This most recent death had been by far the most painful. He'd been fried with Force Lightning, had his lungs dissolved with caustic gas, had his larynx crushed with the Force and suffocated, and had liquid nitrogen funneled down his throat, freezing solid from the inside out. As horrible as those all were, none were as agonizing or prolonged as the latest. Kyle suppressed a shudder and wiped a tear from his eye as he remembered the intense pain. The Emperor had placed him in a room that slowly, over the course of an entire day, raised its temperature one degree every ten minutes.

By the end, the temperature had been well above the boiling point of water. The pain of all the liquid in his body turning to steam was beyond comprehension. A Human's body is comprised of almost seventy percent water, which means that once the room temperature exceeded the boiling point, it's only a matter of time before the moisture in its cells begins to vaporize, causing them to burst. It was a slow process, taking several hours. Kyle's nerve cells were transmitting pain right up until the end, even has his brain boiled and expanded in his skull.

Just before his death, Kyle pushed back the pain and allowed himself one final coherent thought: Don't let him win. With each new death, his hatred for Palpatine grew. He thought of giving in, allowing the old man to train him. Maybe he could become powerful enough to destroy him…No! he though. That's just what he wants, to break you. Don't let him.

The urge to give in to the Emperor's demands and end this suffering nearly overwhelmed him at times. He could feel his sanity slipping, his mental walls breaking down. Very simply, he couldn't guarantee himself that he could hold out indefinitely. And Palpatine certainly wasn't going to stop any time soon.

Kyle sat up from the gurney and dressed himself. A medical droid checked his vitals before allowing a pair of stormtroopers to escort him back to his cell. They marched to either side of him, each holding onto him at the elbow. He used to resist them, to pull out of their grips. Several rifle butts to the kidneys broke him of that habit. Now he allowed himself to be manhandled with no argument. When they reached the cell, the same cell where the dead Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi had first appeared to him, the troopers shoved him unceremoniously through the door, making him stumble to his cot. Again, he said nothing. One of the troopers sealed the door and Kyle heard the internal mechanism lock. He listened as their footsteps faded into the distance.

He allowed himself to collapse onto his cot. He sighed, not from exhaustion but despair. What was he going to do? His only means of fighting back had been taken from him when the Emperor banished Obi-Wan to—where? What had happened that day? He didn't even know how to begin theorizing. But he knew the specter certainly wasn't coming back. After that day, Kyle had found himself completely alone and utterly helpless. How in blazes was he going to get out of this one?

A tone sounded, breaking its way into Kyle's thoughts like a master slicer. He slowly looked around the small cell, trying to determine where the sound had come from. It came again. He snapped his head to the door. Or more accurately, the small computer screen on the wall beside the door. It was normally used as a means for the guards to communicate with prisoners without having to open the door. But Kyle hadn't heard anyone approach his cell to use the corresponding terminal out in the hallway.

The tone rang out a third time, sounding, if possible, increasingly urgent. Slowly, Kyle rose to his feet and made his way to the screen. Cautiously he tapped the "receive" button. The screen blinked once but remained blank.

Odd.

He was about to tap the screen again when words began to scroll across it in bold letters.

"YOU HAVE AN ALLY IN THE PALACE," it read.

"What sort of joke is this?" Kyle wondered aloud.

The screen went blank, and then more words scrolled into sight. "NO JOKE," they read.

Puzzled, Kyle asked, "You can hear me?"

A moment later, "YES." The word typed slowly as if to further drive the point home that Kyle was being monitored.

"Who are you?" Kyle asked quietly, not wanting to draw any unnecessary attention to his cell. "What about the holocams in here?" he nodded to the two cams placed in opposing corners of the cell. "They'll know someone's talking to me."

"CANNOT TELL YOU WHO I AM," the words typed out cryptically. "I HAVE SHUT DOWN THE CAMERAS IN YOUR CELL AND PLACED THEM ON A LOOP. WE HAVE A FEW MINUTES BEFORE I MUST RETURN THEM TO A LIVE FEED."

"Alright," Kyle began skeptically. "You're my ally. Can you get me out of here?"

The screen remained blank.

"Well?" Kyle asked. "Can you?"

Finally, one word appeared. "YES."

Kyle admitted to himself that that wasn't the answer he was expecting. "Really?"

"I BELIEVE SO," the screen responded. "BUT I NEED TIME."

"You know what the Emperor is?" Kyle asked. "What he's been doing to me?"

"YES."

"Then you know that time is all I have," he said.

A fresh message began to scroll. "I HAVE TO GO. I JUST WANTED YOU TO KNOW THAT YOU AREN'T ALONE."

"Thank you," Kyle said sincerely, if not somewhat skeptically. "You won't tell me your name, so what should I call you?"

"YOU CAN CALL ME ARDY."

"Farewell then, Ardy. Assuming you can get me out of here, I am in your debt." The screen flashed back to its standby mode and Kyle knew his new friend had gone. "That," he said to himself, "was weird."

---

"Charming to do business with you, Princess, as always."

Leia and Mara once again found themselves sitting across from the bounty hunter Dengar and his heavily scarred and robed associate, who refers to himself simply as "a ghost." Leia looked away, frustrated at the games they were playing with her. She noticed a dark skinned Human glancing her way and was vaguely reminded of Lando Calrissian.

Mara gave her partner a venomous look. Dengar laughed.

"Ladies, let's not make things unpleasant." His lips, covered in crisscrossed scars, parted in an amused smile. "My friend here and I would be happy to help the Empire in any capacity we can."

The "ghost" added, "For a price, of course," from the shadows of his deep hood.

Mara spoke before Leia could utter a sound. "Just like last time, boys. Our money's good and we've got a lot of it."

"Then we look forward to being of service," Dengar said, rising from his seat. "Now may I suggest we discuss this somewhere more private?" He gestured to the cantina patrons surrounding them. "My ship is close by—"

"Our ship is closer," Leia said, interrupting the bounty hunter. For once, Mara didn't shoot her a dirty look

"We insist," Mara added.

Dengar looked first at his partner then back and forth between the women.

He sighed. "Alright, Jade. Lead the way."

Once the four had made their way back to the Jade Sabre and concluded that they were safe from eavesdroppers, Mara began making their request.

"We karked up our mission to kill Breyac and we need to find him," she explained. "We have no leads and Imperial Intelligence, lately an oxymoron, lost track of him as soon as he left Coruscanti space. His ship has a navdat scrambler. The coordinates we were able to pick up were gibberish."

Dengar's robed associate spoke up in his exotic accent that Leia still couldn't quite place. Concord Dawn, maybe? But muddled, well-traveled. "Just what makes you think we can track him, Jade?" he asked. "Breyac is the kind of being who can afford to get lost and stay lost." He crossed his arms and cocked his head, waiting for a response.

"Because," Mara began, "you have connections in his world. Because money is no object." She paused, looking somehow past the deep shadows beneath the hood and straight into the hidden face. "And most of all, because you're Boba Fett and you don't fail. Ever."

Leia's eyes widened in surprise and she let out a gasp. "Boba Fett?"

The robed man let out a sigh. He brought up his scarred hands and lowered his hood, revealing a face much less scarred than one might have imagined. To Leia, he appeared to be nearing forty. She was surprised. For some reason she always guessed he'd be older.

"Despite the best efforts of Captain Solo, I remain very much alive," he said, his face a blank slate. "A fact I'd like to keep just between us, Jade."

Leia's mouth hung agape. "But how?" she asked him. "I watched you die. I saw you fall into the Pit of Carkoon on Tatooine just months ago."

"You saw me fall, yes. But it would seem, Princess, that—"

"The Sarlacc found you indigestible," finished Dengar, rolling his eyes. "He tells it the same way every time. Now," he turned to Leia, "can we get down to business?"

"Yes, let's," said Mara.

"Wait," Leia wasn't quite finished. She looked to Mara. "I'm just curious about something. How did you know who he was?"

Mara shrugged. "Just put the clues together," she said. "Obvious acid burns look fresh, he said Solo was to blame, and he said the last time he saw you was down the barrel of a gun. I was in Jabba's Palace, too, Princess. Of course, I was there to kill your brother. But I remember your little stunt with the thermal detonator drew more than a few blasters, Mr. Fett's here included," she said, nodding in Fett's direction. "It all just fit."

"Huh," Leia said, apparently satisfied. "That's pretty good."

"Yes, ingenious," Fett said, clearly agitated. "Can we get back on track?"

"Yes, of course," Leia said. "Sorry."

"We figure he has a hidden base somewhere. A safehouse he goes to when things get too hot for him to be on Coruscant." Mara shrugged. "But we don't have a clue where that might be. If we find his safehouse, we find him. We need you two to do that thing you do and find that base."

Dengar snorted. "Is that all? You sure you don't want us to evolve wings and fly you there, too?"

"Cute," Leia said sarcastically.

"Do you have any idea how difficult he'll be to find?"

"I can find him in three days," Fett said, drawing a surprised grunt from Dengar. "But it'll cost you. Big."

Leia raised an eyebrow. "How much?"

"Ten."

"Ten thousand?" she asked.

Fett sighed and closed his eyes, the way one would who was getting frustrated by a child but didn't want to yell. "No, Princess," he said. "Ten million. Black Sun happens to be a large part of our clientele. If I'm going to help you take them down, I want it to be worth it."

"Deal," Mara extended a hand, which Fett shook. "You'll get one hundred now and the other ninety-nine percent once you've found him and we confirm the information is accurate."

"Ten percent is customary," Fett reminded sharply.

"Ten percent isn't usually a million credits," Mara told him. "What's to stop you from taking the cool million and leaving us high and dry?"

"My word," Fett snapped. "I'm no thief, Jade."

"Sorry, Fett, but not good enough. Don't worry; you find him and you'll get your money. You have my word."

Fett nodded; evidently, he recognized that he wasn't going to get a better deal than that. "Are you sure you don't want us to take him for you?"

"I think we can handle him ourselves," Leia said.

"Clearly," Fett retorted without looking at her. "Alright, Jade. You'll have your information in seventy-two hours." He raised his hood and signaled to Dengar with a subtle nod that the meeting was over. Dengar inclined his head politely at the two women and followed Fett back into the muck-filled streets of Nar Shaddaa.

---

Darth Arisin was nearing another large section of the Star Forge. Lord Kas'im's words were weighing heavily on his mind. Could he really handle the volume of power he was taking for himself? He didn't have a definite answer to that. He just had to have faith in himself. The Emperor did. That should be enough. The Emperor was powerful and wise. He wouldn't send his apprentice out unless he believed him strong enough to deal with whatever he was confronted with.

Arisin spent the last hundred meters or so reassuring himself that he was doing the right thing. Slashing through the dense foliage, he left smoking cauterized stumps in his wake. Thick leaves, full of water, sizzled when they came into contact with his blade.

He noticed the jungle beginning to thin out, a sign that he was nearing the impact site. Through the trees ahead, he could see the dull glint of sunlight bouncing off metal. He parted the last trees and vines with the Force and stepped into the clearing. But he was not alone. Before him stood, once again, the form of Lord Kas'im.

The two made eye contact, both looking equally surprised.

"Oh damn," Kas'im said with a sigh.

---

The Emperor sat in quiet contemplation. Things were not going as expected with Katarn. He knew it would take more to break the young man, but he had to admit to himself that Katarn's will was much stronger than he imagined. He couldn't sense the man's mental barriers weakening in the least. He'd have to try a new approach. But what? Katarn doesn't fear death. He knows there's always a clone body waiting for him. And Palpatine highly doubted that even if there wasn't a fresh body waiting Katarn would fear dying. The man doesn't fear pain; Palpatine never sensed anxiety before the executions, which Katarn knows will be more painful than the last. So what does Kyle Katarn fear most?

He commed one of his personal aides, Dyna, with the press of a button on the arm of his chair.

A moment passed, and then a woman's voice answered.

"Yes, Your Majesty?"

"Ms. Gaiten, I should like to know everything there is to know about Kyle Katarn. Everything. I don't care how trivial. I want every record we have on him sent to me as soon as it is compiled."

"Right away, sir. It may take some time. He doesn't strike me as being one to keep strict records."

The Emperor shook his head. "It matters not," he said. "But he was once an Imperial stormtrooper. Begin your search there."

"Very well, Your Majesty. I'll have the information to you as soon as I can."

The old man turned his throne to face the large office window. The view it gave would render many beings breathless. He laced his fingers together in front of his face, examining the network of wrinkles that covered the backs of his hands. He very suddenly felt every one of his eighty-six years weigh on him. For the first time in his life he felt old.

He took a moment to ponder why he was investing so much of his time in Kyle Katarn when he already had an apprentice—a willing apprentice—of almost incalculable power. Could it be he was trying to prove something to himself? Perhaps subconsciously he needed to show himself that he hadn't dimmed, hadn't slowed, hadn't weakened. That time hadn't stolen away the power he'd always had over people. In proving his power to others, he was proving it to himself.

Nonsense, he thought. I am as powerful now as I ever have been. As if to prove the claim, he focused on the backs of his hands and watched as the wrinkles smoothed. Within moments, he was staring at healthy pink rejuvenated skin. The effect was only momentary and his hands reverted back to their pale, gnarled state the moment he broke his concentration, but it served to quiet his mind for the time being. Self-doubt was a weakness. And as he'd told his apprentice, weakness is death. Darth Sidious wasn't ready for death to take him just yet. If Lord Arisin was successful in acquiring the power he needed, Sidious needn't fall to death ever.

He will find it, Sidious thought. If anyone can, he will. He is just as powerful as his father was and nowhere near as reckless. If the power is out there to find, Darth Arisin will find it. And if it is not, we will discover it together.

Darth Sidious watched the sky darken from pale blue to crimson to deep purple. Finally, as night fell completely, the sky was tinted with the yellow-green lights from the Government District. There were no stars visible from Coruscant and hadn't been since long before the foundation of the Old Republic. Thousands of artificial stars, transports and speeders of all shapes and sizes, streaked across the horizon like so many meteors. It all ran like a well-oiled machine. Sidious was immensely proud of his city. It had the highest concentration of sentient life anywhere in the galaxy, all of them wrapped up neatly in the palm of his withered hand. His lips parted in a smile. Every one of them, he thought, is safe and sound in their pathetic little lives because of what I've created. I just ended a war, did I not? I'm not weakening at all. If Master Windu were to materialize this very moment and demand retribution for his death twenty-five years ago I would defeat him again as I did then. Even without the assistance of a torn young Jedi Knight, he added.

A small light flashed on the arm of his throne like a frantic lava beetle. He pressed the button. "Yes?" he said gravelly.

"Your Majesty, this is Dyna." The woman's voice was loud in the silence of his office.

"You've finished your search so soon?" the Emperor asked with surprise.

"No, Highness. But I have come across something that may be of interest to you and thought I should tell you straight away."

"By all means, proceed, Ms. Gaiten," he told her.

"Kyle Katarn's father, Morgan Katarn, was a non-Jedi Force-sensitive who, towards the end of his life, befriended a survivor of the Jedi Rebellion, Jedi Knight Qu Rahn. Morgan was killed by Imperial Inquisitor Jerec four years ago. Qu Rahn's status is unconfirmed but was verified as being alive as recently as three years ago."

"Interesting, my dear, but hardly groundbreaking," the Emperor said. "I already know Katarn is a Force-sensitive. It's a genetic trait, so it doesn't surprise me in the least that his father was likewise sensitive."

"There's more, Your Highness," she continued. "Unverified reports state that, before he died, Morgan Katarn entrusted his son Kyle with the location of something called the 'Valley of the Jedi.' I did research on it, sir, and apparently it's a Jedi legend—"

"Yes," Sidious purred. "Yes, Ms. Gaiten, I know what the Valley is. It has been lost for a millennium. Most do not believe it exists. You say Kyle Katarn knows its location?"

"As I said, Your Highness, the reports are unverified. But I felt it warranted being brought to your attention."

Sidious grinned in the dark, his yellow eyes glinting demonically in a pair of speeder headlights as they flew by. "You have done well. Report anything else of significance to me immediately."

"Of course, Your Highness."

Gears and wheels were spinning in his devious mind now. He'd just been handed a wonderful gift and only needed to open it. And he thought he knew just how to do it.

---

Kyle was sleeping a dark dreamless sleep. After everything he'd been through, what did he have to dream about? His future was dismal and didn't look to be getting better any time soon. He only hoped the Emperor would eventually tire of playing this sick game and kill him for good.

His new friend "Ardy" hadn't contacted him since the initial bizarre conversation they'd had days ago via the cell's computer screen. Early on, he was skeptical about this escape plan. By now, all hope had evaporated. Not that there was much to begin with. He had just accepted that this would be his life from now on. He wasn't going to betray the Rebellion and he certainly wasn't going to become one of Palpatine's Sith pets. He knew eventually he'd just be killed. And it wasn't even that he'd given up. If the opportunity to escape ever presented itself he'd absolutely take it. He just wasn't going to hold his breath until that happened.

It was this philosophy that suppressed his dreams. And because he no longer dreamed, he knew the frantic beeping he heard was coming from the real world.

He awoke with a start. A message was flashing on the screen by the door.

"PALPATINE IS COMING!" It was Ardy.

"So?" Kyle said groggily. "I've seen him before. I'm not impressed."

"HE'S COMING FOR INFORMATION." The message scrolled in excited block lettering.

"Well he's not going to get it so calm down," assured the screen as he climbed to his feet. "He's killed me half a dozen times in the most grotesque ways imaginable and I haven't cracked yet."

"HE'S SITH."

"I'm aware," Kyle growled, getting annoyed. "I've resisted him 'til now. And if he can use the Force to pull stuff from my head then knowing ahead of time won't help me anyway, will it?"

One last frantic message flashed before the screen went blank: "HE'S HERE!"

Kyle heard the light rustle of thick fabric at the door. He crossed his arms and stood in the center of the cell, waiting for his executioner. The door slid open, revealing the Emperor draped in his usual black robes.

"So what's it going to be this time—" A flash of blue light illuminated every corner of the cell and Kyle dropped to the floor with a dull thud.

Palpatine lowered the small blaster he carried in his right hand. He had seldom in his life ever used such a weapon, preferring either his lightsaber or the Force. But there were times when a blaster set to stun made situations infinitely easier.

"Bring him," the old man commanded the guards stationed at the end of hallway.

Kyle awoke with a Hutt sized headache. He rubbed his eyes and tried to remember what happened. He shot me! he remembered at once. The old man kreffing shot me!

He sat up and saw the familiar sight of the med chamber. At first, he thought he'd been cloned again. But things felt different. There was no disorientation. And he didn't usually have a headache. He'd been stunned. So where was the Emperor? Where were the guards? He was completely alone.

"Go!" said a voice. "You have only minutes."

Kyle looked around but saw no one. "What? Hello?"

"The guards will return soon. I've distracted them but you have to hurry." It was a male's voice, urgent and familiar. But as it turned out, disembodied voices were difficult to identify. Kyle was still confused.

"Who are you?" he asked, still looking around as if expecting someone to leap out from behind a piece of medical equipment.

An old man with wispy gray hair appeared before him, glowing faintly blue and transparent. Kyle jumped to his feet, sending the gurney rolling several meters.

"Come now," the man said. "You don't recognize your own father?"

"Dad!"

Morgan Katarn smiled. "Come on. We have to get you out of here."

Kyle raised an eyebrow. "'We'?"

The specter rolled his eyes. "The royal 'we'. You and I have to get you out of here. Is that better?"

"But—"

Morgan raised a finger to silence his son. "No time to argue. We need to get you to the Valley of the Jedi before the Sith find it. Palpatine knows I told you where it is. He's going to try to take it from you."

"Are you sure we can get out of here?" Kyle asked, skeptical. "This isn't exactly a moisture farm on Tatooine."

The elder Katarn nodded his translucent head. "There are several hidden turbolifts throughout the Palace leading to emergency shuttles that are kept on standby. If you hurry, you can steal one."

"What about you?" Kyle asked Morgan.

"What about me? I'm already dead, remember?"

Kyle shook his head. "Palpatine…he's powerful. He can destroy you." He didn't quite know how to explain it since he had no idea how it actually worked.

"Destroy me? Son, I'm dead. I'm about as destroyed as you can get. One with the Force and all that."

Kyle shook his head again defiantly. "He can. I've seen it. When Obi-Wan Kenobi came to me, as you are now, the Emperor did something. I don't know what, but it was like Kenobi was stripped from this plane, sucked into some weird vortex. Apparently he did the same to someone called Yoda."

Morgan knitted his brow. "Well I still doubt it, but if you're that concerned, I'll just make sure I'm long gone when he gets here. Now come on before he gets here while we're rambling on!" The ghost sprinted out of the room, Kyle right behind him.

They ran through half a dozen empty corridors before stopping.

"Where is everyone?" Kyle asked, catching his breath.

"This wing of the Palace operates with minimum staff twice a week. It's financially more efficient," Morgan explained. "This is one of those days. We'll be fine as long as we get you out fast." He made a sweeping gesture with his arm. "Come on, it's this way." He took off down another hallway.

"How do you know all this?" Kyle asked as he jogged behind Morgan.

Morgan paused to look at his son and smiled. "You'd be surprised what you know when you're one with the Force." He gave Kyle a wink. "Let's go. It's imperative you get to the Valley before the Sith."

"You keep saying that. Why am I going there? Would my escape be enough to keep them from finding it? And what do I do once I get there?"

Morgan sighed. "You must listen to the Force. You aren't trained, but your connection is strong. To be honest, I don't know why you have to go, but you do. It's the will of the Force. Can't you feel it? It's your destiny."

Kyle said nothing but nodded. He followed Morgan down several more eerily deserted corridors before they stopped in front of one of the more than one-million tapestries hanging throughout the Palace, each one representing an Imperial member world. Kyle leaned forward and read the planet's name. Geonosis. Never heard of it. With encouragement from his spectral father, Kyle pulled the thick hanging aside, revealing what appeared to be a simple single-person turbolift.

"Get inside," Morgan told him. "It's all automatic. It'll take you straight to the shuttle. GO!"

"But—"

"I'll meet you there, Kyle," Morgan said. "Just go!"

Without further argument, Kyle stepped into the lift, which immediately began to ascend. The trip lasted nearly half a minute. When the door slid open, Kyle saw exactly what he'd been told would be there: a Lambda-class shuttle sat in the center of a small hanger bay, coolant steam rising like smoke from dorsal vents. True to his word, Morgan Katarn was standing beside the shuttle's folded left wing.

"Come on," he said urgently. "Get inside." The ramp was already lowered, opening into the cabin like a gaping mouth waiting to swallow him whole. Kyle thought it was odd, but he imagined a hidden shuttle in a secret bay probably wouldn't need to be locked up. Shoving all reservations to the back of his mind, he ran up the gangplank and settled himself down in the pilot's seat. Morgan had appeared in the co-pilot's chair.

"Just put in the nav data for the Valley and you're free," he said. "By the time they realize you're gone, you'll be half-way there." Morgan nodded to the navicomp console with a smile.

Kyle strapped himself in and reached for the nav controls. He paused.

Morgan's smile faded. "What's the matter, Son? Have you forgotten?"

Kyle slowly shook his head. "No, something just doesn't feel right."

"Kyle, you must get to the Valley of the Jedi before the Sith. And my time here is almost up. I need to know you still remember the location. Please, input the coordinates before they find you missing."

Kyle nodded. "Alright, Dad." He turned to look his father in his glowing blue face. "Thanks for finding me. I—I've missed you a lot."

Morgan smiled. "I know. And someday you'll join me in the Force." He cleared his throat. "But now you have a galaxy to save."

"Right," said Kyle with a smile. Both men turned their attention to the nav screen as Kyle input the coordinates of the Valley.

Beside him, his father gave a chuckle. "That was easier than I expected," said a voice that froze Kyle's blood. He jerked his head to the side, eyes wide, and looked at his father. Morgan was staring back at him, a malevolent grin on his face. Slowly, Morgan dissolved, replaced by the disfigured visage of the Emperor.

Kyle snapped awake with a start, seeing the Emperor's face hovering over him. It was like remembered the last fleeting moments of a dream. Only this was no dream.

Palpatine looked to someone out of Kyle's line of sight. "I've got what I need. Take him back to his cell." He looked back down at Kyle and gave him a broad grin. His cold bony hands were pressed against the sides of Kyle's head. "Thank you for giving me the location of the Valley of the Jedi," Palpatine said. "I promise to put it to good use."

---

"Lord Kas'im," Arisin said in surprise. "What are you doing here?"

The blademaster let out a loud sigh. "It would seem I've become anchored to you. There are times that the Force seems to have a sense of humor," he said dryly.

"Anchored? You mean you're…stuck to me?"

Kas'im rolled his eyes. "It would appear so. For the time being," he added quickly.

"So," Arisin began, "will you still be with me when I board my ship and leave?"

The ancient Sith Lord shrugged. "The Force works in mysterious ways. I have no idea what the limits are."

"Have you ever heard of something like this before?"

Kas'im shrugged. "I know of Sith Lords who have anchored themselves to locations of great power, but never to individuals."

"Like Lord Kun," Arisin offered.

"Yes," Kas'im said. "I believe the residual power of the Star Forge trapped my spirit in this place. But after you absorbed so much power, you must have snagged me away, like one magnet overtaking the power of another and grabbing a piece of scrap."

Arisin snorted. "Interesting analogy."

Kas'im glared. "I don't claim to understand every aspect of the Force. Do you have a better explanation?"

The young Sith Lord mulled over it a moment. "No," he said finally. "I suppose it's as good a theory as any."

"So what are we going to do about it?"

Arisin shrugged. "I don't know. Find a way to make the best of it, I guess."

Kas'im raised an eyebrow. "What do you suggest?"

"Well, you're a blademaster, are you not?" Arisin said. "You can instruct me. I've never had formal training outside the few lessons Lord Sidious has given me."

Kas'im thought a moment. "I suppose," he said slowly. "It's not like I have much choice."

"Good," Arisin said. "You can be my tutor while I'm away from my master."

"How wonderfully exciting for me," Kas'im said with all the excitement of ferrocrete curing. "I can hardly wait to—"

Arisin held up a hand, stopping the blademaster mid-sentence. Kas'im gave him a puzzled look. Arisin had his head tilted to the side, as though listening to some unseen messenger. Kas'im resisted the urge to ask what was going on.

After a few moments, Arisin snapped back. "We're going to Ruusan," he told the blademaster.

"Wha—Ruusan?" Kas'im was confused. "What could possibly be on Ruusan?"

Arisin smiled. "The Valley of the Jedi."

Kas'im paused a moment. "The what?"

---

Ragnor Breyac ran a red-skinned hand through his blue-black hair, which was more than a little unkempt. He'd been forced into using the safe house he never thought he'd need. Sunlight glinted through a small window that looked out at the lush world of Ruusan. A thousand years ago, this planet, indeed this very continent, had been the crucible in which the last incarnation of the Old Republic had been forged. Seven great battles had been waged between the Jedi and their sworn enemies, the Sith. The Sith had been wiped out and the Jedi crippled for generations, only to be crushed themselves by the Empire's iron fist centuries later.

Even ten centuries after the last battle, a keen eye could still make out the scars of long forgotten war. Breyac built his safe house less than a kilometer from the cave system in which the last battle took place. And if historians were correct, it wasn't a battle so much as a massacre. After six previous battles, the Sith were few in number, as were the Jedi. In a last ditch effort, they had lured a large group of Jedi into the caves, where the Sith Masters unleashed some sort of Force weapon that obliterated both factions. The only survivors had been a handful of Jedi held back a safe distance away. Since that battle, nebular shifts had erased almost all hyperspace routes to and from the planet, isolating it. Before long, it had been completely forgotten by the Jedi and the Republic. Even the Empire hadn't attempted to take it. It was the perfect place for someone who wanted to disappear for a while. The planet was home to the inbred descendants of Human colonists and a strange race of beings called Bouncers; meter-wide balls of green fur with long, ribbon-like tails. The creatures seemed to defy gravity, floating above the ground and traveling on the wind like fuzzy green balloons. He doubted either species would be a liability to him.

The safe house was a fully automated base that could operate without any organic staff one hundred percent of the time. It was designed to house a single person at a time and was stocked with several years' worth of supplies. It had been built into a hill laced with sensor-jamming veins of unique xeroite ore. Coupled with nebular radiation, the xeroite made it impossible to detect the facility from orbit. And even on-planet one would need to be standing directly on top of it with out-dated ground penetrating radar to find the void within the hill. Theoretically, he was completely hidden from all manner of surveillance technology.

Even with all of that, he found himself wondering if it would be enough. He was being chased by Jedi, after all. At least he thought they were Jedi. They had lightsabers. And the Force. For all he knew, the introduction of the Force into the equation made all of his precautions impotent. Could they detect him through solid rock? He just didn't know. Even if they did somehow manage to find him, he had a state-of-the-art defense system. Hopefully even Jedi would have a hard time with it. At the very least, it should buy him the time he needed to escape. Again.

The very tired vigo sat down in his ridiculously expensive Verpine built chair and scooted up to his even more ridiculously expensive Hapan taq wood desk. He absently thought that he should be using a coaster for his cup of caf as he waved a hand over the built-in holoprojector. He accessed the footage from his Coruscant office, which was stored in his ship's memory banks. He studied the two women during the entire verbal exchange. The red-haired woman had identified herself simply as "Emperor's Hand," whatever that was. It couldn't be good, though. He'd searched Black Sun's extensive database for her face and title and come up blank. It was as if she didn't exist, which worried him even more. No record meant Imperial agent. And based on her title, he could guess whom she reported to. Which meant Palpatine himself wanted him dead. If that was the case, he might not be safe anywhere in the known galaxy.

He shook his head and turned his attention to the other woman. Now this one he knew. He paused the recording. The woman with the Imperial agent was without a doubt Leia Organa. Breyac zoomed in on the Alderaanian princess' face. "What are you doing there?" he asked aloud, taking a sip of his steaming caf. "Your Rebellion is dead. Why are you with a woman calling herself 'Emperor's Hand' and why are you after me? A grudge with Black Sun? But you already killed Xizor." Well your father did, anyway. He knew her brother had replaced Vader as Palpatine's pet. Had she, too, aligned herself with His Royal Ugliness? That sounded pretty unlikely. She was one of the leaders of the resistance against the Empire. But while logic told him the idea was ludicrous, the evidence told another story. "Huh," he said as he took another sip of the hot beverage. "Interesting."

A door slid open behind him and a silver protocol droid shuffled in. "May I replace your drink, sir?" it asked in that overly polite tone that always grated on Ragnor's nerves.

"TC-47, haven't I told you to knock first?" he asked sharply. He never much liked droids. Artificial life gave him the creeps.

The droid tilted his head to the side in confusion. "Well, no, sir."

The Zeltron sighed and ran his fingers through his hair again. "Well I'm telling you now."

"Alright, sir." TeeCee Forty-Seven left the room, the door hissing shut behind him. A moment later, there came a metallic tapping at the door.

Breyac rolled his eyes. "Kreffing droids," he muttered under his breath. "Come in, you stupid walking toaster."

The door opened and TeeCee Forty-Seven entered again, servos whining. "May I replace your drink, sir?" he repeated, unaffected by Ragnor's insult.

He downed the rest of his hot drink rather painfully and handed the cup to the droid. "Yes. Another caf. And this time, add some Corellian fire whiskey to it. I'm having a bad week."

---

True to his word, Boba Fett had taken just under seventy-two hours to acquire Vigo Breyac's hidden location. Mara and Leia had made use of their free time by sparring in the Jade Sabre's cargo hold. Kay and Drey had been keeping watch outside the ship despite Leia insisting that it was unnecessary. Mara had suggested that perhaps it was their idea of fun. Leia had just shrugged.

During their three-day layover, both women had improved their saber skills considerably. They sparred no less than four hours a day and drilled separately for a further three hours. Leia couldn't help but think that this was exactly what the Emperor had hoped would happen. She sensed their pairing was meant to be a lesson for both of them. She hoped they wouldn't disappoint.

Early evening of the third day, the ship's comm alerted them to an incoming call. Mara extinguished her lightsaber and activated the cargo hold's comm. "Go ahead," she said, wiping sweat from her glistening brow. Leia likewise deactivated her blade and listened in.

"Jade, it's Fett. I have what you requested. Transmitting now." Fett's voice echoed slightly in the mostly empty hold. Leia couldn't help but smile. Maybe, just maybe, this mission was almost over.

"Copy," Mara said. "Transfer of funds upon confirmation of data transmission." She turned to Leia. "C'mon, we'll take this in the cockpit."

Leia followed the other woman through the bowels of the ship up to the cramped pilot station that reminded her more than a little of the Millennium Falcon. Pangs of sadness hit her as she realized for the first time that the ship would have been destroyed at Endor, along with her pilot, Lando Calrissian. Instantly she thought of the man in the bar who had reminded her of him. She didn't know why she hadn't thought of it until now. Two more casualties I have to make up for, she thought. My war killed so many. I was such a fool.

Mara stopped dead in her tracks and spun around to face Leia.

"Princess," she said, grabbing her by the shoulders. "You're sending out waves of self-pity. I'm frakkin' drowning here. Either get over it or…well, get over it. Alright?"

"I was just—," Leia began, unsure of what to say. "I mean…I'm sorry. I'm still realizing the extent of the damage I've caused. Little things keep reminding me of what I've lost."

"And we can talk about that," Mara said, letting go of the other woman. "After we find out where we're going and how we're going to bag us a Black Sun vigo. Okay?"

Leia nodded. "Got it. Sorry."

Mara stepped into the cockpit, Leia in tow, and settled down into the flight chair. She flipped a switch and the data screen flared to life, showing a message received. Mara spent the next few minutes decrypting the package, skimming over bits as the files extracted. It was a tangle of sources and contacts, which she absently scrolled through without giving them much thought. Leia tried to follow along but found it difficult. Mara gave a quiet "Huh!" and continued reading.

"Feel like sharing?" Leia asked her.

"In a minute," Mara replied. Everything she read pointed to only one possible location: Ruusan. She searched her brain. I know that name, she thought. Why do I know that name? She remembered. The planet had been completely forgotten by the galaxy after a shifting nebula cut off all hyperspace routes through the system. You couldn't even find it on starmaps younger than a thousand years old. It was way out there from the Core but relatively close to Hutt Space, where they just happened to be. Amazed at their luck, she turned to Leia. "He's on Ruusan," she told her with a grin.

"Ruusan?" Leia echoed. "I don't think I've never heard of it."

"Unless you're a history buff, there's no particular reason you should have. But he's there," Mara said confidently. "He's definitely there." She turned back to the communications console and punched in a frequency. "Jade to Fett. Package received and confirmed. Payment to be deposited within the hour."

"Pleasure doing business with you," answered the gruff voice.

"Likewise." She started going through the pre-flight check as she explained everything to Leia, who still sat there wondering just why she should be so happy.

"You see," Mara began, "Ruusan was this planet that was pretty insignificant in the grand scheme of things but during the last big war sat in the middle of a hyperspace route that was significant. It provided access to some pretty important systems. The Sith wanted it and the Jedi couldn't afford to lose it."

Recognition graced Leia's face. "The Ruusan Reformation," she said. "I always wondered what that was about."

Mara nodded. "Yup. The Ruusan Reformation. The war ended on that planet and the Republic was reorganized and the Constitution rewritten. The Sith wiped themselves out there, along with a good number of Jedi. But," she said, turning her head away from the data screen to look Leia in the eye, "here's the kicker: even though they won, the Jedi were so embarrassed by their heavy losses that they erased the planet from their records. Then, shortly after the war, a kreffing nebula shift wiped out the precious hyperspace routes to and from the system. Talk about irony."

Leia raised an eyebrow. "You're talking about a lost planet?"

Mara smiled and nodded. "Yes, I am. A lost planet. And that's how I know he's there. Where better to find a high-profile target than a place you've never heard of and couldn't get to even if you had?"

"How do you know about it?"

Mara shrugged, he red hair falling from her shoulders. "I am a bit of a history buff, actually. Lots of interesting things have happened in this galaxy's history."

"Alright," Leia accepted. "Good enough for me. So," she said with the tone of one about to ask the sixty-five-thousand credit question, "he found a way to get there. How do we?"

"If we can find where he most likely jumped from," she said, pulling up a map of the galaxy, "then the Sabre should be able to pick up his hyperdrive signature and make the calculations. A little help from the Force and we could be breathing down his neck in no time."

Leia shrugged. "Sounds like a plan to me. Let's do it."

---

A familiar frenetic beeping sound woke Kyle from a deep sleep. After a couple weeks of captivity, the cell's rock hard cot stopped feeling quite so uncomfortable. He sat up and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. He slipped his boots on over his bare feet and stumbled drunkenly across the cell to tap the viewscreen's "receive" button. What time is it? he wondered as a message scrolled across the screen in the standard agitated block text.

"GET READY. WE'RE LEAVING NOW!"

Just as Kyle read the last word there was a soft his and click as the cell door slid open. "Huh," he said with a bit of surprise.

"I'VE CLEARED A PATH TO A NEARBY SHUTTLE BAY." A map flashed on screen with a route highlighted and blinking, snaking through the Palace schematics. Kyle instinctively memorized the simple route instantly. Habit.

"I WILL BE WAITING FOR YOU THERE. HURRY!"

"Thanks a bunch, Ardy," Kyle said under his breath. He was wary after what the Emperor had done to him the day before, using the Force to create a hallucination in order to glean the location of the Valley of the Jedi from his mind. But Ardy had mentioned an escape before Palpatine had frakked with his mind and he couldn't believe his ally was just another one of the Sith's tricks. No, this was a legitimate escape. He was out the door and running before he had a chance to second-guess the situation.

Off in the far distance he could hear shrill alarm klaxons blaring. His heart leapt into his throat. He'd been discovered! He was convinced that the Palace Guard was mobilizing that very moment to track him down. But his logical brain kicked in. They'd have found you by now, it said. That's Ardy's distraction. It's in a far away section of the Palace. It was enough to settle his mind and he kept running, not stopping until he reached the shuttle bay.

He recognized it as the one he was brought through. It probably serviced the detention center exclusively, he thought. It made sense, anyway. He reached out to the control panel but was stopped mid-way when the doors slid open by themselves. As they parted, a cool breeze washed over his face, the smells of machinery and fuel filling his nose. Cautiously—he never forgot just where he was and whom he was dealing with—he stepped inside.

The shuttle sat facing away from him, its engines humming and prepped for takeoff. Someone knew he'd be there. Ignoring his instinct to run aboard, he made the trip around the ship at a slow pace, his heart beating in his throat. Blood pounded at his temples. He didn't know why he was so nervous. Most of him didn't even believe this was real. It had to be another trick. As he rounded the flat nose of the shuttle and looked up the boarding ramp, fully prepared for a trap, he found himself so surprised he could have been knocked over with a sneeze.

"What?" he cried in shock. "It's you!"

---

Palpatine frowned as he entered the Palace detention center. Flanked on either side by his usual troupe of Royal Guards, he longed for nothing more at that moment than to Force hurl them all against the walls in frustration. He balled his hands into tight fists and gritted his teeth against such thoughts. While mindless violence would quench his bloodlust, it wouldn't bring back Kyle Katarn.

He ordered his guards to stand back and stormed into Katarn's holding cell, which was filled with hushed conversation from several technicians, each working feverishly with datapads in hand. They were all huddled around the cell's viewscreen, various cables plugged into the computer's access ports. When the Emperor strode in, they all stiffened up to attention.

Ignoring their reaction, Palpatine demanded, "How did he do it?"

One of the technicians, a rugged woman with harsh, square features, and her hair tied back in a tight bun, answered first. "Your Majesty," she said in a thick Corellian accent, "it looks as though he had help from someone inside the Palace."

"And have you determined who it is yet?" Palpatine inquired angrily.

She shook her head. "It appears someone has been communicating with him through this," she pointed at the console. "We've recovered several text messages sent on three separate occasions. We're attempting to trace their location of origin but it's difficult. Whoever it is, they have impressive computer slicing skills."

"I don't care about your opinion of their computer skills!" the Emperor fumed.

The woman's face drained of color. She sputtered a response. "I'm sorry, Your Highness."

"What did they speak about?"

She hesitated, afraid to anger him further. "We can only guess at this point, Your Majesty. We are assuming the person had control of the cell's holocams. Katarn would have likely spoken his responses aloud. We only have the text side of the conversations. It seems they were discussing a breakout."

Palpatine was growing angrier by the second. "Did they leave a name?"

Again, the technician shook her head. "They were reluctant to give their name. He did assign himself the moniker 'Ardy', though who that could be we really have no idea at the moment."

The old man's eyes widened in fury.

"Does that mean something to you, Your Majesty?" she asked, puzzled at the Emperor's reaction.

He didn't bother to answer. Instead, he spun around and flew out the door, ordering: "Bring the Princess' droids to the interrogation room immediately!" before disappearing around a corner.

Several minutes later, the tall golden droid See-Threepio shuffled through the door into the main interrogation room, looking more upset than he ever had in his long life of worry and paranoia. Palpatine sat at a short table and motioned for Threepio to sit opposite him. Once the droid had taken a seat, the room's harsh lights gleaming off his polished skin, Palpatine began. "Where is your counterpart?" he asked the protocol droid.

Though the room was meant to intimidate organics, Threepio fidgeted nervously in his seat nonetheless. "Artoo, Your Majesty?" he asked. "What has he done now? I tell you, he has always had a knack for getting himself into trouble."

"I have reason to believe that he conspired with convicted Rebel Kyle Katarn and played an instrumental role in his escape from his detention cell twenty minutes ago." Palpatine locked eyes with the protocol droid. "I will ask you again: where is your counterpart, Artoo Deetoo?"

"He has really crossed the line this time!" Threepio's eyes flashed brightly in surprise; he jerked his hands up in the air in frustration. "I always knew he'd snap one day, the stupid little malfunction! Oh, dear. He hasn't hurt anyone, has he?"

Palpatine raised an eyebrow in surprise. "You really knew nothing of this, did you?"

"Why, no, Your Majesty!" Threepio exclaimed. "If I had I certainly would have tried to talk him out of it! Who does he think he is, breaking a prisoner out of detention? I didn't even know he knew Kyle Katarn."

"Has he acted suspiciously this last week?" the Emperor asked.

"Well, no, Your Highness. No more so than usual, anyway," Threepio responded. "He's always doing something he shouldn't." Then he added, "Why, just the other day, he—"

"Yes?" the Emperor urged.

"Come to think of it, there have been several times lately that he's, well, disappeared," the golden droid said. "Only for short periods," he added quickly. "I assumed he had met an interesting computer."

"How often would he disappear?" Palpatine leaned forward. "How many times?"

Threepio tilted his head slightly to the side, briefly redirecting a beam of light into the Emperor's face as he thought. "Seven times that I recall, sir."

"Seven?" the Emperor asked, looking down at the table in confusion. "But technicians only recovered three conversations before the escape…" he said to no one in particular. "So who was he communicating with the other four times?"

"Whoever it was, sir, he didn't mention it to me."

Palpatine looked up and shook his head. "Of course he didn't. He knew you wouldn't resist turning him in."

"I beg your—"

"Oh stop," the Emperor interrupted. "You have no concept of secrecy unless your master swears you to it. Even then, it is embarrassingly simple to trick you into regurgitating every last detail. Why do you think your memory was wiped after the Clone Wars and his wasn't? You can't be trusted with important information."

"Well—" Threepio started indignantly.

"Thank you for your time, Threepio," Palpatine cut in. "You are free to go."

The droid stood awkwardly. "You're most welcome, Your Majesty." He shuffled quickly out the door, servos whirring as he went.

When he was alone, Palpatine thought aloud, "Four times; he spoke to someone four times. But who? And more than that, where did they go? There was intent beyond escape here." Katarn had broken out just hours after the location of the Valley of the Jedi had been gleaned from his mind. "Is that it?" he wondered. "Could the droid have known?" If the astromech had control of the security cameras, it was entirely possible he had witnessed the Emperor extracting the information from Katarn's mind.

Even if he had, that still didn't explain who he had been talking to. The location of the Valley was useless information to ordinary people. Who else knew of its significance?

A disturbing thought entered the Emperor's mind. What if it was a Jedi? He remembered that Morgan Katarn had been associated with a Purge survivor. What if he was who the droid had been talking to? He would surely have told it how important it was that the Sith not find it. What if he had somehow contacted the droid, whose memory had never been wiped after the Clone Wars and who the Sith knew still harbored Jedi sympathies? It made sense. He always knew the Jedi would never cease to be a thorn in his side. They were impossible to destroy completely. All it takes is one.

He couldn't rely on Lord Arisin to handle this one on his own. Powerful as he was, he had never been tested against an enemy truly intent on killing him. Vader's show on the Death Star had been pathetic. The boy was never in any real danger. But if he was right and there was a surviving Jedi out there, his apprentice would be in danger. And he wasn't about to let another Skywalker fall to the blade of a Jedi.

He stood and swept through the doorway. "Alert Captain Kagi that I want my shuttle prepped for flight in ten minutes' time," he called to the guard as he passed by. He wasn't going to wait until he sensed his apprentice was in danger this time. This time, he would take care of it himself.