Disclaimer: No. I still don't own Star Wars.

Note: Does sparring count as 'action?' Probably not, no. Ah well. In any case, have another chapter. Thanks again to Liisiko for checking this through and being awesome as always.

On other, unrelated news, I am learning how to sew! It is…more difficult than I thought and my sewing machine hates me.

Replies to reviewers:

Liisiko - I'll see what I can write up, then! I have a few extra scenes in mind (mainly plotless fluff) thanks for reviewing!

From Pen to Paper - I'm glad you're enjoying the story. I have gotten a tad obsessive with the details in this fic...thanks for your review!

Sephenon - Glad you're enjoying it! And don't worry, Galen will get to do some fighting eventually! And have no fear. I will be finishing this story! Thanks for your review!

CHAPTER 7 – Diversion

Location: The Armistice

"Focus, boy!" Kota's barking order came from across the small training room, grating on Galen's nerves as he parried PROXY's attacks and span into a deadly flourish that had his saber whining through the air.

"You're not helping." He snarled back.

It was a different experience fighting against the droid now. After all, PROXY had fought him in an attempt to end his life. With that programming now gone, PROXY was a different combatant altogether. Less driven by his desire to succeed in his programming, he now took his time to carefully analyze the situation, which – oddly enough – made for a much more complex sparring partner.

"You've changed, PROXY."

"So have you, Master. The last time we fought, you only wielded one blade."

Their sabers clashed again, Galen pushing away with such force that the droid stumbled back and almost lost his footing.

Galen looked down at his double sabers and blinked. It felt so natural to him now to use two weapons that he could hardly remember a time where he had carried only a single blade. He extinguished one, returning it to the clip at his belt, and shifted into a new style.

PROXY was there within moments, pressing the attack, driving him backwards. With a twisting motion of his hand he parried the attacks with relative ease, turning the blade to a reverse-grip and drawing it up across PROXY's chest. The armour plating screeched, spraying furious sparks, and the droid relinquished the close proximity, circling to wait for another opening.

Using the Force to aid his speed, Galen drove forward, elbow bent at a ninety degree angle. He lanced outwards, bringing the blade round to clip against the droid's hip and knock him completely off-balance. Unfortunately, PROXY had anticipated this and leapt sideways, bringing the hilt of his own lightsaber down against Galen's shoulder.

Galen went down, pivoting on the heel of his palm, and aimed a kick at PROXY's middle. The droid went flying and Galen only just stopped him from hitting the wall with a cushion of Force energy.

Juno would be mad if they damaged the ship.

Kota's 'hmph' of disapproval all but ended the sparring session.

"What is it this time, old man?"

"You need to clear your mind. You're making mistakes."

Galen frowned. "Care to take PROXY's place?"

Kota blinked, his clouded eyes flickering indecisively. There was an extended moment of silence and then, at last, the old Jedi stood, flexing his shoulders. "Very well. I may be an 'old man', but there's still a thing or two I can show you."

Galen tried to mask his surprise at Kota's acceptance. The last time they had fought it had been under extremely different circumstances. He had been clouded by darkness and Kota had been perhaps a little overconfident – too quick to dismiss the talents of a young Sith. The fight had ended up with Kota blind and tumbling to a death that he had somehow managed to escape. A talent of his, apparently, having also escaped relatively unscathed from Cato Neimoidia. Kota would certainly be ranked high among the names of the galaxy's best survivors.

"Don't expect me to go easy on you." Galen smirked, widening his stance and shifting into a more defensive position.

Kota said nothing, igniting a vibrant green blade and balancing it securely in his palm.

Galen – ever eager – made the first move, diving in for the attack.

There was a flash of green and Kota's saber connected with his, drawing a fierce buzzing and preventing any further advancement. With a twisting-push, their blades came unlocked, forcing them into a drawn out attack, taking turns at attacking and parrying. With an elaborate flourish, Galen turned his reverse grip into a spinning jump, bringing the blade down in an action that would have carved deep into the shoulder of any normal man.

Kota, however, side-stepped neatly out of harm's way, one hand now on Galen's shoulder and shoving hard. By shifting his furthest leg back, Galen kept himself from being thrown to the floor, leaning into the added pressure and retaliating with a vicious swipe of his saber.

Again the weapons connected and again they parted, seeking an opening that could be manipulated into victory.

"Back on Kamino, adrenaline flooded your senses. You were constantly on edge." Kota lectured. "Now, with Juno safe, you've had time to think over what happened." The white-haired Jedi countered another attack and fought for dominance, the muscles in his arms bunching with the strain of the struggle.

"Wouldn't you?" Galen griped, hissing through clenched teeth. The hiss became a growl of frustration and, with a burst of strength; he gained the upper hand, knocking Kota backwards.

"I don't blame you, boy, but if you want to regain your former strength, you need to accept that what has happened cannot be changed. You are who you are. Make peace with that fact."

The General lifted a small container with the power of the Force and shot it at Galen with the speed of a bullet. Galen ducked, slicing the container in two and almost gave Kota the opening he had been waiting for. Realizing his mistake – and not a moment too soon – he turned to defend himself and danced out of harm's way.

"So, you finally admit that I am a clone?"

"Not at all. But, the likelihood is that we will never know the truth."

Galen gave a bitter laugh. "I thought that was why you wanted Vader captured."

"It's not all about you, boy."

Galen put the Force behind him and used its energy to enhance his jump. Tucking his legs up, he performed a somersault that had him landing neatly on his feet at Kota's back. With a grin of triumph, Galen stepped in to claim victory only to find Kota ready for him. The older man dropped to the ground and twisted, kicking Galen's feet out from under him. The impact drove the breath from his lungs and he opened his eyes to see the point of Kota's saber resting quietly just above his throat.

"The question is, boy: does it matter?"

Frowning, Galen turned his free hand up and drove a blast of Force power upwards. It struck Kota on the chest with unexpected strength, freeing him from being pinned. Rolling back to his feet, he gained ground, twisting his wrist to parry even Kota's swiftest attacks. Then, with Kota almost pinned against the far wall, he drew back his arm and lunged. Again, the older man evaded, turning so his back was to Galen, a vice grip now on the younger man's wrist. With a sharp tug he had Galen stumbling forwards and again the green blade swung around – pausing just centimeters from the side of his neck.

"Well?"

Galen's breathing was strangely labored and when he spoke, his voice sounded rough and sad. "It does if…if being a clone means losing my mind."

With a sharp nod, Kota sheathed his saber, setting the cylinder at his hip. "Your fear of madness is understandable but completely unfounded. Juno sees—"

"—Juno sees only what she wants to. I tried to warn her and she just…she dismissed it as if it was nothing to be concerned about."

Kota arched a brow. "Do you not think that Juno would notice a change in you?"

Silence.

"Boy, you are every bit as fiery, stubborn and reckless as you always have been. Those aren't traits of madness. It's just who you are."

Fell Sheen rubbed tiredly at her eyes, squinting at the blurring screen in front of her nose. She'd not stopped to rest since she'd been given the task of working through the information that Kota had brought through from Brentaal IV and even now, she was certain there might be other important data that they had skipped over in favor of information on the ship's whereabouts.

The ship had not yet been given a name, instead being referred to by the first four digits of its registration: XF-32. Details they had gained were sketchy at best and she still wasn't convinced that they understood its capabilities as a warship.

As awful as it sounded, much of the mission was being based on assumption from the scraps of data they had managed to piece together. She couldn't deny, however, that the longer they waited, the chances at securing this prototype slipped away.

For all they knew it may already have been too late.

Dragging a hand across her tired face, she paused to stretch the kinks out of her spine and thought back to the chaotic last few weeks. Being part of Kota's team was never easy but it was certainly something to be proud of. Fighting alongside the Jedi, she felt important and useful; as if she were really making a difference. A small difference, yes, but even small steps would eventually see them at the top of the mountain.

Cracking her knuckles, she loomed back over the console again, scanning the reams of data filing vertically across the screen.

Perhaps after this was done, she might be allowed a short trip back home to visit family. She'd not had word from her mother for a long time and the woman had never kept great health; particularly since the death of her husband – Fell's father.

A muffled thud somewhere in the room beyond distracted her attention for a moment and she paused in her work to listen. Nothing. That was…odd. Frowning, she untucked her legs and stood, moving cautiously towards the door. Pressing the activation switch, the double-doors, inset with blue lights, receded.

Fell startled, her eyes flickering wildly across the room. Two guards lay slumped in puddles of…of…

"Oh…no." Her voice sounded strangled and she leaned against the doorway for support. Her eyes moved up the form of the figure standing over the dead guards. He was thin but strong, dressed in black and bandaged at the arms.

"Starkiller?" She recoiled in horror.

His head snapped up and though it was Galen's face, it did not bear his eyes. This one's eyes glowed with a feverish yellow and the twist of his mouth held nothing but malice.

Fell stumbled backwards, slamming her open palm against the locking mechanism. The doors closed with a swift swishing noise; closed over the bands of red that had hummed to life in his grasp.

Silently screaming at her legs to work, she staggered back to the console, reaching for the com-link to raise the alarm.

Behind her the doors were suddenly blown inwards by a blast of energy. The same energy hit Fell across the back, sending her sprawling across the desk. The ominous hum of the twin, red sabers in the Sith's hands grew louder and she struggled feebly to right herself, drawing herself up from the console – the screen now smashed and useless. One side of her face was bleeding profusely from a gash in her cheek and it streamed down into her mouth; dripping onto the broken surface beneath her.

Her vision doubled, sickeningly, as she reached for the com-link again, frightened by how violently her fingers were trembling. The Sith behind her moved and though she was expecting it, she was still surprised at the column of red blossoming from her chest. Gaping wordlessly, she stared down at the lightsaber, wondering why it hadn't hurt more. Wondering if maybe it wasn't as bad as it seemed.

The blade extinguished and she touched at the new cavity in her chest, feeling strangely calm.

Then, quite suddenly, the strength left her. Legs buckling, she was dead before she hit the ground.

The Apprentice watched the dead woman's body fall with mild disgust and couldn't help but ask himself how the Rebels had possibly gotten so far. All of them so easily broken; their lives extinguished in a blink of an eye. He understood, now, why his master wanted them to concentrate on the filth that were the Jedi and their precious Senators. Kill them and their minions would crumble. They would fall to their knees and beg for forgiveness.

But he would not be merciful.

Forgiveness was for the weak and needy. He was neither.

Glancing back at the twisted doors, he moved onwards; ever drawn by the dark presence of his master.

It would not be long before the alarm was raised but there was no one here who could pose a threat to him. He took his time, striding purposefully through the corridors. Anyone in his path was quickly seen to; cut to ribbons or electrocuted to death before they could even cry out in warning.

Stepping over the smoking remains of his last victim; the Apprentice snapped the next set of doors open with an accurate sweep of Force power and descended a flight of steep stairs. The effect of his master's presence was like stepping into thick fog. It awed him and frightened him, both.

A ream of yells rose up from the darkness to warn him of their presence and, with a roar of rage, the Apprentice leapt down to greet them. In the darkness the light of the red sabers strobed across his eyes, throwing wild shadows across the room. He heard the rebels die, felt a blaster shot graze his ribs, and felt the cruel slice of his blade cut into their vitals; claiming their lives.

The rush of power was invigorating and strangely addictive.

Deactivating both blades, he raised his arms and, drawing on the Force, he carefully teased open the huge locking mechanisms that held his master contained. The intricacies of the huge device were impressive and it took him longer than he would have thought to work out its construction and manipulate the various parts into position.

His work was finally rewarded with a sharp click that resonated through the chamber and, with the Force, he pushed open the huge, circular door; so thick that it would certainly need a number of normal men to open and close it.

Two blue lights illuminated the small chamber beyond and reflected on the smooth plains of his master's armor. The heavy, slow sound of the respirator was all that filled the room and the Dark Lord lifted his head at his apprentice's arrival.

"I am here, my Master."

"You have done well." Vader's unwavering, emotionless voice put fear in him. "Now, free me of these bonds. We have much work to do."

"You don't need to do this, boy."

"Need? Need! You misunderstand. I want to do this. Need doesn't even enter into it."

"Then get on with it. I don't have all day."

"You seek death, Jedi?"

"I neither seek nor run from death. And nor should you. Fear is-"

"-I fear NOTHING!"

"You have always been afraid."

"Shut up!"

"It's not too late, boy. You can turn away from this."

"SHUT UP!" He had a lightsaber in his hand now and though it was brilliant blue, it lashed out with ill intent. "I'm not listening to you anymore."

Kota's weary face smoothed with acceptance and even when the blade cut deep, there was nothing in his eyes but tranquillity.

This was a death he had long been waiting for.

Galen's eyes snapped open as he jerked up in his seat, shaking and in a cold sweat.

Had he fallen asleep? He didn't remember doing so and yet…that had to have been a nightmare, right? No vision could ever have shown him…him…

He swallowed thickly and looked up to see Kota's blind-eyes watching him intently. Thankfully, Juno's seat was empty – though why that was, he didn't know. All the same, he did not like the expression on the old man's face, almost as if he knew what Galen had just seen in his mind's eye.

Still slightly disorientated, he stood, leaning against the back of the empty pilot's chair as he struggled to calm his mind.

Kota had warned him that if he didn't stay calm and control his thoughts then he'd find it difficult to focus. Ha! That was easy for him to say! He wasn't haunted by these nightmares—visions—whatever they were! Kota had no idea what he was going through right now. Though…that expression said otherwise.

"What did you see, boy?"

"See?"

Kota gave him a meaningful look and Galen felt himself inwardly retreating from that stare.

"Did I miss something?" Juno asked from the doorway.

"Not as far as I'm aware." Kota replied, his eyes still on Galen.

"Good. We should be arriving soon."

Galen found his seat again and made sure to avoid Kota's gaze, mulling in silence until the ship decelerated sharply out of hyperspace. And, there, in the depths of space, loomed the huge mass of Viedas' ship. An old modified frigate called, the Armistice.

Juno tapped into their frequency. "Captain Eclipse of the Rogue Shadow, requesting permission to land."

"Security code, please."

Juno relayed the code with smooth efficiency.

"Code checks out. Permission granted. Welcome aboard, Captain."

The sleek ship manoeuvred down to the docking bay and landed at the far end of a line of small fighters. The bay was buzzing with life; people scurrying back and forth on tasks both important and mundane. Juno joined Kota and PROXY outside of the ship and took a look around. It felt strangely good to be back on a huge, busy frigate like this; so reminiscent of the Salvation that was lost to her now.

"I expect someone will come down to meet with us." Juno continued.

"Would you prefer me to stay here, Captain?" PROXY inquired.

"No. You'd best come with us. We may need you."

Kota shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "I just hope Commodore Viedas has prepared his team."

"I expect Garm has contacted him already."

A familiar voice interrupted. "Indeed he has."

"Commodore Viedas!" Juno smiled over at the approaching Rodian, moving across the flight deck to greet him. "It is good to see you again."

"And you, Captain. Is it just the three of you or did you manage to keep your troublemaker a secret?" The Rodian jested; his large, round eyes casting a look between them all. The Commodore had been one of the many officers who had aided in the fight at Kamino and in the transportation of Vader; the Armistice given its own set of co-ordinates to help ensure that the Dark Lord could not be tracked.

"He's here."

"Excellent. I expect we can put his talents to use, though this mission certainly seems like a long shot."

"I'd have to agree with that." Kota grumped.

"I've made all the preparations, but I understand I am to run through the details with you?"

"That's right." Juno replied, casting a look back to the ship in hopes that Galen had decided to join them. To her relief, he appeared a few moments later, dressed in a black flight suit zipped up to the base of his throat. He'd slung a utility belt around his slim waist to disguise the lightsabers amongst the pouches and tools. An intense flare of desire blossomed in her chest, taking her by surprise and putting colour in her cheeks. Coughing to hide her embarrassment, she turned from him, returning her gaze back to the green-skinned Rodian.

"If you'd like to follow me." Viedas gestured with an extended arm, turning to lead the way. Kota moved to join him and PROXY, after a slight hesitation, did as well. Galen fell into step with Juno, one hand resting possessively on the small of her back.

"I've already got a group on standby." Viedas was staying. "Ten very capable men. Dedicated. Well-trained. Their preparations are well underway so they should be ready by the time we're done here."

"Glad to hear it." Kota replied. "If this does go to plan, we'll be relying on them."

"Through here." Viedas informed, stepping aside to let them all pass by. "Take a seat everyone. Let me pull up the information on the holoscreen." He seated himself at the head of the oval table and the holographic system whirred into life, throwing an image up of their target; the XF-32.

The ship very much resembled a Star Destroyer in that it was fashioned much like an arrowhead. This ship, however, was smaller and narrower, with a sloping 'blade' above and below giving it a distinct '+' shape when viewed from the front or back. Being smaller, it was naturally more agile, which also meant it was not as well armed as its larger counterparts. However, it was certainly a force to be reckoned with.

"As you know." Viedas spoke, his distinctly accented voice breaking the momentary silence. "This ship is rumoured to be located in the skies of either Drall or Selonia. We can gather, from the intelligence, that this ship is a shell of what it could be. Unfinished and with most of its weaponry not yet installed, it's currently posing as a mere cargo ship."

The image shifted to show a basic plan of the ship's layout. "The docking bay is located on the port side of the ship. If the way is barred…you'll have to get creative. Once inside, it's more or less a straight run through. Two lifts will take you down to the lower floors, through storage and then ascending back up to the officer's quarters, the communications rooms and conference rooms and then through to the bridge." Here, the Commodore paused. "Any questions so far?"

"I'll be there to guide them through as they go." Juno added. "But you're right. The layout seems simple enough to navigate. Assuming all goes well, of course." And in her experience, nothing ever went exactly to plan. Blocked corridors, diversions and unexpected events almost always cropped up at some point on missions like this.

"You're to take to the skies of Selonia, seeing as that it our most likely target. My team will make their way to Drall."

"Sorry, can I just interrupt you there, Commodore?" Galen leaned forwards, his brow slightly furrowed. "If I may make a suggestion?"

"By all means."

"I say the most effective use of our resources would be to split Kota and me across the two teams."

"And leave you to deal with any Imperial forces alone?" The Rodian's tapering snout lifted with surprise.

"I work better alone and if the ship is in the skies of Drall, your men would not be able to advance without one of us there to lead the way."

"What do you think of this, General?"

The elderly Jedi's blind gaze was fixed on Galen. "I…think Starkiller may be right."

Juno inwardly flinched at hearing Galen's old codename. She knew it only made sense to use it with those who had no reason to know otherwise, but it brought with it a ream full of painful memories.

"I'll go with your group to Drall." Kota continued. "And team up with Starkiller and the Captain if they make contact. He won't be alone for long."

"PROXY should go with you, too." Galen continued. "He can give you intelligence from onboard in case they are above Drall."

"That sounds like a fine plan, Master." The droid agreed.

"Very well, then." Viedas made to stand. "Let's go and—"

He was interrupted by the insistent beeping of a transmission. Casting them all a querying look, he accepted the link and took up his seat again.

"Senator?" Viedas sounded surprised. This wasn't a planned communication, then.

Garm's figure – from the waist up – projected onto the holographic panel. His face was twisted with both rage and despair. Behind him, muffled shouts could be heard and he turned briefly to check everything was okay.

"Senator, what's going on?"

Without thinking, Galen was on his feet, hands gripping the edge of the table so tightly it seemed it might shatter beneath his fingers.

"Are Kota and Eclipse there?" The Senator demanded.

"Yes. They're with me now. What's this all about? Has something happened?"

"This was all a mistake, Commodore. A grave mistake. Abort the mission. Do you hear me? Abort. It's all been a farce; a trap set up by the Imperials."

"What?" The Rodian's round eyes grew even larger.

"The base has been compromised." The Senator continued. "I don't know how they found us, but they did." He paused, shaking his head. He still appeared to be in shock. "Kota…"

"Garm?"

"Vader spoke the truth about that apprentice."

Galen paled.

"He's back and he's returned to the Dark Side – if he ever even left it in the first place."

"What do you mean?" Kota demanded, blind eyes flickering across to Galen. He looked visibly distraught, sagging at the shoulders, knuckles bone-white. Could it really be true? Could another clone have survived the attack on Kamino? He added, hastily: "That isn't possible."

"It is possible, General. We have visuals. I'm sorry but…he's torn through the base and killed a number of soldiers. Kota…three of them were your men. Fell Sheen included."

Kota's expression was carefully concealed, but his voice was low and thick with barely contained shock. "And Vader?"

Garm's eyes grew darker still and then; "…He's gone. Vader's gone."

To be continued…

Closing note: Juno likes flight suits.