Part Five: Impostor
Chapter 13
Rend stepped through the marble doors leading into the great hall of Twinspire Keep. Giant statues of ancient Dark Lords of the Sith lined a carpeted walkway to the central chamber. He saw that Darth Siphon, General Ravain, and Lord Lethe had already gathered to plan the Keep's defense. Siphon sat upon her twisted throne, overlooking a console table with a cerulean projection of the Keep and its surrounding areas hovering inches over it. Ravain and Lethe stood at opposite ends; the general shuffled holographic representations of their forces around, going over unit composition, potential weaknesses in their defenses, and possible tactics for the upcoming battle.
They all turned to him upon his approach.
"Darth Siphon. General," he greeted with a respectful bow. "Lord Lethe."
"Is it done, Rend? Have you put the traitor down?"
He glanced to Lethe momentarily. Her visage was unreadable. "It's done."
"Did you speak to her beforehand?" Siphon pressed. "Did she say anything to you?"
"She … begged for her life."
Rend watched as Siphon's masked form stood from her throne and approached the console. He glanced to the general; the hover-chair bound form seemed eager to move on to actual stronghold defense, but doubtless had witnessed too many spontaneous executions to be foolish enough to interrupt the Darth.
"Nothing else? She didn't mention anything?"
Rend shook his head. He didn't know if he believed Hallie's story about Siphon's actions, but something in his gut told him it would be better not to reveal it.
"I will not tolerate treachery. I hope that is clear to every last one of you. I have been too lax, have coddled too much. This is where small mercies lead, where even a hint of kindness will set you down upon: imminent destruction."
Rend suddenly realized with horrifying clarity that he, Lethe, and Ravain were all that remained of Siphon's significant supporters. There were other apprentices, yes, Imperial soldiers that Siphon could command, but none of any note, or proven mettle.
They were the last line of defense. Orthas had all but won, and half their losses had not even been his doing.
How could the Empire expect to survive like this? All the infighting, all the fatal ambition that drove the Sith to slay one another. Rituals like the Kaggath, they would spell the end of … everything. Everything the Empire had built. Everything they had achieved...
"Orthas really intends to breach the terms of the truce?" asked Rend.
"He will do whatever he thinks he can get away with, apprentice. As should we all. Continue with your proposal, General," said Siphon.
"Yes, my lord. A-as I was saying … our position here is untenable. We likely cannot withstand a second assault."
Lethe spoke, quiet and yet boldly certain. "It sounds as though you would have us abandon this fortress."
Rend heard the quake in the man's voice, no matter how hard he might've tried to hide it. "We lost too much in the initial attack. Repairs have not been able to undo the damage. We were relying upon Orthas to keep his word and limit the Kaggath to single combat; with our Master's individual power, the Kaggath would be won, unquestionably. But as it is now, Orthas approaches with hundreds of soldiers and Sith at his back …"
"You were relying upon me to finish this war for you … is that what you're saying, General?" Siphon's voice hissed with contempt.
"My lord! This conflict with Orthas, it is your own -" But Ravain stopped himself mid-sentence. Rend knew what the general was about to say: the war with Orthas was Siphon's own doing. He half-expected Siphon to cut the general down then and there. He sincerely hoped his master would not; losing Ravain now would truly leave little hope for victory … or even survival.
Thankfully, it seemed even Darth Siphon recognized that fact. Nevertheless, the raw anger in her cold, calculated words could not be hidden. "You will hold this keepl. I don't care what you have to do to defend it. Splay your body at the gates and let your corpse frighten away Orthas' soldiers if you must, but you will protect Twinspire. Do you understand?"
"I … a-as you wish, Darth Siphon," Ravain struggled to comply. "We will need to rely upon your battle meditation once more then, my lord. And both Lords Rend and Lethe will need to be on the front lines. Only they can hope to match Orthas' disci-"
"No." Siphon whirled around, returning to her throne. "Rend and Lethe will remain within the Keep. They will serve as my last line of defense and our best hope to defeat Orthas."
"My lord, why?" asked Ravain. "This is not the time for half-measures and contingencies. If the Keep is to be held, we will need -"
"Your job is to keep Orthas' forces at bay, General; I have no illusions about your ability to defend against Orthas himself. That is why we must separate him from his armies."
"If we can cut him off from his support," Siphon continued, "Rend and Lethe will ambush him inside the Keep. Bolstered by my battle meditation, they will be able to defeat him."
"I will ensure it, my lord," said Lethe.
"Yes, master." Rend bowed his head in agreement, though his heart filled with doubt that even united they would be a match for Orthas.
"As you w-wish, Darth Siphon." General Ravain said, resigning himself to Siphon's plans. "But how will we separate Orthas from his armies?"
"Leave that to me, General," said Siphon.
Rend almost couldn't believe the nonchalance emanating from his master. "That still leaves Orthas' apprentices and Ve - Vandal Pike. Without us at the front, General Ravain will be hard-pressed to combat them all -"
"Throw the new batch of apprentices at them. They'll buy us time, if nothing else. And once Orthas is taken care of, the pureblood lords in his service will no longer pose a problem."
"I fear they will not honor the terms of the Kaggath, my lord," said Ravain. "Even should we cut off the head of the snake, the body remains healthy and strong. What would stop them from overrunning us regardless?"
"Arrangements have been made," replied Siphon. "That's all you need to know.
How could she be so certain?
"Go. Make your own preparations. Orthas will arrive within the hour."
Rend returned to his quarters.
Things were spinning out of control, and yet somehow Siphon seemed immune or dismissive to any thoughts of concern.
Nothing made any sense, least of all his decision to hide Vandal Pike's true identity from his master. The news of Hallie's treachery had consumed his attention for a long while, but the idea that Siphon's former apprentice had come back to seek revenge had returned to the forefront of Rend's concerns ever since he left New Adasta. It was almost certain that the bounty hunter would be on the field during the attack; the only question was where he would be deployed.
Why hadn't he revealed what he had learned to Siphon? He had corrected himself almost by instinct, had lied by omission because … what?
He couldn't explain it at first. At least, not until he glanced outside the window. The gardens outside had been all-but obliterated. Charred stems and ruined foliage reached across the garden ... save for a single golden-petaled flower that had somehow managed to survive the chaos.
Guilt and doubt wrapped their arms around his heart then; he could no longer discern their reason or purpose. Did they come to punish him for lying to his master? For betraying a friend? He didn't know anymore, and that frightened him more than any approaching army could. Fear took hold of him, gripped him from his very core, and chipped away at the foundation of everything he knew.
Alone in his room, he gasped for breath that would not come.
The sky was overcast as it often appeared on Ziost. Darth Orthas glanced upwards from outside the battered gates of Twinspire Keep, taking in the view of both of its soaring towers. Siphon had maintained them in pristine condition, with nary a hint of rust or erosion. They stood in defiance of Ziost's harsh weather and icy landscape. The rest of the Keep was not so fortunate. Orthas' attack on the citadel just a few days prior had left its mark. Reconstruction efforts were already underway, but there was still much to be done; rubble to be cleared, architecture to restore, buildings to reinforce.
It was work Orthas eagerly looked to relieve from the false Sith.
To his left, a line of his most powerful pureblood Sith apprentices arrayed themselves. They carried lightsabers matching their skin, wore ceremonial robes befitting their title, and had all been trained to perfection. How could they not be, after all? They were apprentices made in his own image.
To his right, various moffs and the more elite of his hired muscle stood ready for battle. Vandal Pike stood among them, ostensibly a bounty hunter, but one who had offered his services - for a fee, of course - upfront when he heard that Orthas had declared a Kaggath upon Siphon. Orthas suspected revenge to be the hunter's motive; he hadn't bothered inquiring about it. The motivations of lesser beings were not his concern.
Behind him, his army in its full power, ready to tear down this last vestige of the false sith who had dared to take from Orthas his most favored apprentice. He would see Siphon on her knees, stripped of power and status, shown to all the galaxy as a pretender to the title she bore, just like all of her impure kind.
"My lord," said Lord Astraad, his most ambitious pureblood advisor. "Our probes are reporting the majority of Siphon's remaining forces have gathered in the Keep's courtyard, and are prepared to defend it."
The keep's remaining turrets swiveled in place, watching Orthas' army for any sign of attack. Orthas was confident that his walkers would be more than capable of handling these middling defenses. He adjusted his traditional Sith finery, removing his hood so that he could taste the biting cold in the air.
The front gates opened slowly and from within, a solitary form strode forward to greet him. Dressed in robes as audacious as they were defiant and wearing her golden mask, Siphon approached, unarmed, lightsaber still attached to her belt. Orthas felt his blood surge with anger. Even the woman's gait brimmed with an irksome impertinence and unabashed brazenness. Siphon needed to learn a lesson in respect.
No matter. Orthas would leverage this fury into a weapon. He pulled out his lightsaber and activated it, the gushing sound of its eagerness music to his ears. He brandished the blade with a smile. His enemy had come to meet his doom. Turning back to instruct his forces to hold their positions, he too strode forward to meet Siphon - not close enough to be in striking distance, but enough so that they could hear each other.
"My revered colleague, Darth Orthas," said Siphon as Orthas approached. "Aren't you a bit early for our duel? Or is your pure-blooded memory not as sharp as it once was?"
Orthas swallowed his anger, letting it simmer in the back of his mind. Siphon would soon pay for every irreverent word that escaped her blasphemous lips. "Did you expect me to wait for you to concoct treachery, charlatan? I come to end this charade."
Siphon folded her arms behind her back, pacing a few steps as she took in the sight of Orthas' army. " … and yet you arrive with an army. Did we not agree to single combat? Shall I assume you intend to prove to the galaxy your hypocrisy?" Siphon cackled, mocking and contemptuous.
"My forces are here to ensure that none among your ranks attempt to defy the terms of the Kaggath. Once your body is but a broken corpse at my feet, I expect there will be quite a few heretics in your service who lack the honor to submit to my judgment."
"Defy the terms of the Kaggath? Are you not violating your own terms now by returning so soon?"
Orthas could hear the fear behind Siphon's words. "Fool. The terms of our duel are as we set them. I have decided to change those terms, because it is within my power to do so."
Siphon's retort was defiant. "Do you not fear the tittering of the other Sith Lords? What will they think, a pureblood Sith, going back on his word in such a sacred duel?"
Orthas smiled. "Go ahead then, Siphon. Appeal to the rest of the rabble to save you. I suspect you will find as much success in that effort as Thanaton did with the Dark Council. How many times did he beg them to intercede against Nox? What fruit did his whining bear?"
"Is your analogy not misplaced? You are Thanaton reincarnate: outmoded, trapped in the past by arrogance and tradition. Your kind will soon be extinct. This Kaggath is merely the vehicle with which you will be hastened to that end."
Orthas chuckled, low and quiet. Then, he turned around to face his army. "Warriors! This pretender thinks she is a match for me. I have decided to indulge her hubris. Cut down anyone who attempts to interfere."
He turned back to face Siphon, watched him give similar instructions to his own forces inside the courtyard before turning back as well.
"This will be the arena then?" Siphon asked. "Outside the gates of my keep?"
"As fitting a place as any, wouldn't you agree? In full view of both our forces, so that all might know the ending to the Tragedy of Darth Siphon?"
"As you wish," said Siphon, finally pulling out her own lightsaber. "Shall we begin?"
Orthas soared forward like a hawk, lightsaber screaming as it sliced through the air. But in a flash Siphon was gone, fled, back into the courtyard.
"Coward!" Orthas howled as he leaped after the false sith, hurtling past Siphon's forces in pursuit. Siphon was already up the steps to the main entrance; Orthas yelled into his comlink: "She flees single combat! The truce is broken! Attack! Attack!"
Blaster fire exploded in a cacophonic chorus from behind him as both sides - for the second time that week - began an all out battle for the Keep.
Siphon paused as she reached the top of the steps leading into the Keep. "Don't let Orthas' forces get past the gate! Fight for your lives! Fight for your master!"
Then, the pretender beckoned to Siphon with a single finger before slipping through the towering marble doors to the Keep.
Rage disseminated through every cell of Orthas' body.
He landed at the top of the steps leading to the main entrance. The marble doors had closed and they would not budge. Neither would they pose any obstacle to him.
Orthas summoned the Force, commanded it to his will, throwing his arms forward with all the considerable power he had mastered. The twin doors struggled for just a second - and then hurtled backwards as if made of paper, only to then crush two unfortunate guards with a muffled crunch.
Looking within, Orthas saw Siphon at the end of the great hall, saw her whirl around for just a second, the surprise visible in her body language if not on his masked face. For a moment, the false sith seemed uncertain of what to do; it took her a few seconds before she resumed her flight deeper into the stronghold.
Orthas smiled, the tendrils on his face quivering with excitement.
Siphon would meet her fate within the hour.