Chapter Sixteen
Darth Vader stepped off of the turbolift and into darkness. The sensors in his helmet rendered everything inside of the Jedi Temple Archives in a fuzzy red light. It was wholly inadequate, another example of tech that seemed intentionally primitive inside of his suit. But a Sith Lord didn't need their eyes to see. He stretched out with his senses, discovering that his surroundings were much as he remembered them. The Archives had not yet been touched by the Emperor's remodeling. Much of the damage from the taking of the Temple remained, including the scattered corpses of the Jedi he had exterminated not weeks ago, which had been left to rot.
But, as Vader moved forward, he felt that he was not alone. There were ten presences surrounding him, prominent in the Force. "Reveal yourselves," Vader commanded.
The first being stepped forward, a yellow light igniting from behind it. The tall figure twirled a staff, revealing the blade of a yellow lightsaber emitting from one end. Vader recognized it instantly; it was the standard weapon of a Jedi Temple guard. Other lights joined the first. Two blue lightsabers, one wielded by an enormous Dowutin woman and the other by a gray alien whose species Vader couldn't recognize. A tall muscular male with pale green skin appeared between two rows of the Archive shelves from Vader's right hand side, a tall force pike in his hands. A much smaller Mirialan woman with yellow skin appeared from the shelves on the other side, carrying a pair of glowing red vibro knives.
Two more appeared from behind Vader, a blind Miraluka man wielding a green lightsaber and a slender Jango Jumper man with two vibroswords, one in each hand. Vader tilted his head upwards at the sound of someone jumping atop one of the Archive shelves. This one was a young woman with dark blue skin, a small unignited shoto style lightsaber in one hand and a vibro knife in the other. A human and a twi'lek stepped directly behind him, cutting off his escape route back to the turbolift, if he had felt inclined take it.
An ambush.Vader felt a stinging sense of fear, but instantly converted the feeling into emotions he could use. Anger. Hate. He reached for his own lightsaber but suddenly remembered that the Emperor had taken it from him. These beings, the former Jedi Temple Guard amongst them, had not infiltrated the Temple. They had been let in. So be it.
Vader spread his hands out before him, palms open. The beings arrayed around him inched forward, but no one seemed eager to be first. The floor around Vader began to vibrate, the shelves began to strain at their foundations. As the first of his ambushers, the enormous Dowutin woman, rushed forward, the tables and chairs in the room began to rise into the air.
The Dowutin raised her lightsaber towards Vader but was forced to break off her attack, swinging instead at a table that threatened to slam into her from behind. She sliced the the table in half with a grunt. Vader reached out with the Force, intending to grab the woman by the neck and crush her windpipe, but instead was forced to divert his attention towards the gray alien, who aimed a stabbing cut towards Vader's chest with his lightsaber. Vader stopped the the thrust as the blade was centimeters from his suit's chest mounted control panel, using the Force to grab hold of the alien and hold him in place. Vader shoved his hand forward, throwing the alien into the air and sending him crashing through one of the Archive shelves.
Vader spun as the muscular male alien with green skin attempted to bring his force pike down on Vader's armored shoulder pad. He grabbed outward with the Force, lifting the alien into the air and tossing him overhead. As he passed Vader reached out with his robotic hand and grabbed the pike, ripping it from the alien's grip.
Vader swung downwards, intercepting a graceful swipe from the yellow lightsaber belonging to the Jedi Temple guard. The lightsaber cut through the shaft of the pike, the spear head flying off into the distance. Vader swung upwards with the beheaded shaft of the pike; the Temple Guard blocked the blow but was knocked backwards by Vader's incredible strength. Vader followed it by a burst of telekinetic energy that blasted the Pau'an into the large Dowutin woman, knocking both of them aside.
The Dark Lord of the Sith had no time watch the results of that blow. He turned just as the Jango Jumper brought both of his vibroswords down in a twin swipe. Vader moved at the last second, allowing the blades to cut through his billowing cape but avoiding any real damage. Vader spun around and grabbed the slender man by the wrist with one of his cybernetic hands, crushing his forearm with a loud snap. He lifted the Jango Jumper into the air and threw him into the similarly sized Mirialan woman, causing her to abandon her attack.
Vader's danger sense swirled about him, threatening to overwhelm his ability to react. And so he forced his attackers to react to him. He brought chaos into life, ripping shelves from the floor and sending them into the ceiling, causing the young dark blue skinned woman to jump to safety. A human ran forward, standing between Vader and the turbolift. He dodged a crashing table and ignited a blue lightsaber from beneath his cloak. The pale skinned human swung it upwards towards Vader's chest, ignoring the crashing sound coming from above. A durasteel beam ripped itself from the ceiling and crushed the human, killing him instantly. Vader telekinetically pulled the lightsaber out of the human's hands, but couldn't catch it in time. Instead he felt a stinging sensation as the yellow lightsaber of the Temple guard struck the back of his shoulder. Howling in anger, Vader spun again and struck out with his forearm, striking the Pau'an man in the side of the head.
Vader spun the other way round and struck out with his fist, sending a telekinetic blast into the twi'lek just as he was about to stab him in the back with a green lightsaber. The blast struck the twi'lek, crushing his chest and sending him backwards into the lightsaber of one of his fellows, dismembering him.
While a handful of the others fell back the Dowutin woman struck again, bringing her lightsaber down in an attempt to sever Vader's left arm at the elbow. Instead he caught her hand and pulled, ripping her arm from its socket and causing her to scream in pain. The yellow skinned Mirialan woman rushed in, attempting to sink one of her vibroknives into Vader's hip. Instead the spearhead of the dismembered force spike stabbed her from behind, entering her rib cage and causing her to collapse in pain.
Vader pulled the Dowutin woman by the arm, moving her in front of another attack from the former temple guard. The guard's yellow lightsaber sliced off her hand and she fell to the floor. Vader swung her lightsaber, her hand still attached to hit, intercepting another attack. He followed with a powerful series of blows that knocked the guard off balance, but Vader was never able to capitalize. Every time there was an opening another of his foes would rush in, sometimes scoring a glancing blow against his armor, other times recieving a telekinetic blast that sent them flying before they could do any damage.
Vader parried another swipe from the guard and then wrapped himself in the Force. Next he struck down, blowing through the Pau'an's stance and snapping the lightsaber staff in two. The yellow blade sputtered out. Vader raised his lightsaber, about to bring it down and separate the guard's head from his body. Before he could strike the lights suddenly came on in the room.
"That's enough," came the raspy voice of Emperor Palpatine. Vader was about to bring the blue lightsaber down anyway when he felt a tug in the Force that pushed through his defenses and wrapped itself around his robotic arm, restraining him. Vader clenched his fist and crushed the blue lightsaber, raining debris onto the Pua'an's face, including the Dowutin's severed hand.
Palpatine casually strode through the ruins of the Archives, observing the destruction with a pleased expression. All around him Vader's attackers, the survivors anyway, rose to their feet. They all bowed towards Palpatine as he passed them.
"You performed well, Lord Vader," Palpatine said, without sarcasm. "Never forget what a realSith can do, even outnumbered ten to one," he added to the others, glancing around the room.
"These...weaklings...are your project?" Vader asked.
"Indeed," Palpatine nodded. "Two there should be, no more, no less. One to embody the power, the other to covet it. But the rule of two does not preclude the use of lesser servants. Tools. These acolytes will become the Inquisitorius. You will train them yourself, until their skills are adequate enough that they can hunt the remaining Jedi and their allies that cling to survival. So that they can carry out the other tasks required to maintain control of the galaxy, beyond what all of the stormtroopers and fleet admirals can provide."
"As you wish," Vader said.
Palpatine's hand disappeared beneath his robes, returning with the hilt of Vader's lightsaber. He held it out. "Never forget the price of disobedience. No one is irreplaceable."
Fatigue finally beginning to return to his body, with the thrill of combat and the intoxicating power of the dark side fading, Vader took his lightsaber from his master. "I won't forget," he said, gripping the hilt tightly before clipping it to his belt. "No one," Vader thought to himself carefully, watching as Palpatine appraised each of the newly christened Inquisitors.
oOoOo
"This is it," Aramis announced to Lehal Jak. They stood at the entrance to Uraala's personal hangar, the Hyrotii Crescent-class transport parked before them. The vessel, with its curved forward-swept wings and polished durasteel exterior, had the appearance of a half moon as it reflected the night sky from within the open air hangar
"Wow," Lehal Jak said. He carried a bag over his shoulder, which he claimed carried all the belongings he cared about. Aramis, who was used to travelling light, could emphasize. He just wondered what the human was doing with all of his winnings from his numerous tournament appearances. "She just gave this to you?"
"I guess, when you are at the head of a smuggling empire, a single ship is a lot less significant that it is to you or I. But, yeah, she did. I think she was preparing to pass some things off in case her treatments didn't work out."
Jak nodded grimly in understanding. They boarded the ship side by side, the loading ramp unfolding from beneath the forward hull as Aramis punched the passcode into a hidden control panel. Aramis took the lead, showing Jak around. Corridors led off the sides from the central lounge area, curving with the shape of the wings. They set their bags in the lounge area and Aramis showed Jak a cabin he could use for the duration of their journey to Obroa-Skai. The ship was large enough to comfortably accommodate a half a dozen people, so there was plenty of room for the two of them.
Aramis led the way into the bridge, which sat at the nose of the ship between the two points of the wings that made up the crescent shape the ship was named after. He sat down in the pilot's chair and nodded towards the other, which Jak sat in.
"Are you as good of a pilot as you are a fighter?" Jak asked.
"The Jedi Temple taught us to fly and navigate," Aramis answered. "But I never really got much practice until recently. So far I've avoided crashing into anything, if that qualifies as 'good'."
"I just figured with your fast reflexes…"
"The instructors at the Temple always said that good reflexes only got you so far without proper training. I know how to operate the controls but nobody has yet shot at me while I was flying, so I'm not sure if I'm good at it or not."
"Fair answer," Jak said, laughing slightly.
Aramis activated the ship's comm and received a clearance confirmation from the spaceport. Soon he lifted the ship into the air and began to rise into Malastare's upper atmosphere. "I need to take a detour before we head to Obroa-Skai. Uraala's on an outer planet…"
"That message you received on our way to the spaceport…"
"It was from her father. He told me to come see her before I was off. I wanted to anyway, but she's been..."
"But she's been busy," Jak finished for him.
"I was going to say not herself," Aramis said, grimacing. "But she's been that too." The Crescent-class transport proved speedy as it exited Malastare's atmosphere and entered interplanetary space. The trip to the dwarf planet at the edge of the system required a short micro jump into hyperspace; the blue swirl distinct to hyperspace travel had hardly enough time to materialize before they were returning to realspace. Aramis banked the ship until their destination came into view.
The dwarf planet hanging in space before them was a mix of purple and pale green shades, the barest hint of an atmosphere visible. Its status as less than a full planet rendered it left out of most informational star charts, unless one dug into navigational data buried on the holonet. But to the natives of Malastare the little word was known as Dar'Muri, the 'Lost Wanderer' in Basic. As they neared orbit Aramis activated the comm and switched over to Palor Aven's frequency. A moment later Uraala's father answered.
"You're on your way?" he asked. They could hear the sound of voices in the background, as if he was in a large room with a lot of people.
"We've just entered Dar'Muri orbit," Aramis answered.
"I'll transmit you our coordinates. You'll see four domes set in the hills above a canyon. The hangar bay is in the canyon," Palor said. To Aramis's' ear the elder Aven lacked his usual good cheer. In fact he had never heard him so serious, although his experiences with him had been rather brief so far.
"Understood," Aramis said. He pushed forward on the control sticks, lowering the ship into Dar'Muri's thin atmosphere. They continued on, flying over the craggy hills of Dar'Muri until the complex that Palor described came into view. Aramis lowered his speed and descended towards the canyon. The hangar looked ancient, with a hardened industrial look colored with rust and corrosion. He hoped that the internal systems that ran the magnetic field, the invisible force that kept air from within the hangar from escaping into the thin atmosphere, were better maintained than the exterior would suggest.
Flipping a switch extended the vessel's squat landing legs and the Crescent-class transport settled onto the hangar floor. Aramis' eyes widened when he took in the scene surrounding them. Lines of Gran mercenaries were being led into boxy transports that were similar in shape to those used by the Separatists to transport battle droids during the Clone Wars. Each line was guarded by a handful of twi'lek guards armed with blaster rifles.
"Haven't seen something like this since the war ended," Jak said.
"I suppose you didn't see the transmissions coming out of Kashyyyk," Aramis said in a subdued voice. He shut down the main engines of the ship and then exited the bridge. Jak hesitated before following, his attention still on the scene unfolding outside of the viewport.
Aramis descended the boarding the ramp beneath the nose of the ship. A few of the twi'leks glanced over at him, nodding in way of a greeting. Aramis nodded back. He only recognized a few of them, and knew none of them by name, but clearly most of the organization knew of Uraala's new boyfriend. Or however else they thought of him.
Aramis approached one of the guards who stood near the back of the hangar. "I'm here to meet with Palor," he said.
"He's in the control center at the back of the hangar facility," the guard answered. "He's expecting you."
"Right," Aramis said. Jak made to follow but the guard stepped in front of him.
"Sorry, security is sensitive right now," the guard said. "You should stay with your ship."
Jak looked slightly perturbed but backed off.
"I won't be long," Aramis said, trying to reassure him.
"I'm fine staying with the ship," Jak said, shrugging slightly. "I need to unpack anyway."
Aramis watched the human turn back and heads towards the ship before continuing through the large blast doors the separated the hangar from the facility behind it.
The space behind the hangar looked to be a storage and maintenance facility. Everywhere he went there were signs of the battle that had just ended prior to his arrival. Carbon scoring and blast marks covered the walls. There were dead bodies, Gran and Twi'lek alike, scattered about. Eventually he found the control room, which was at the top of a short staircase in a tall room. As Aramis ascended the stairs he noticed four humans in full Mandalorian battle gear at the top, standing in front of the entrance. He recognized Exa Karr amongst them.
"Hey," the Mandalorian greeted, his sweat dripping from his blonde hair, causing his forehead to glisten. Aramis couldn't help but notice there was blood on Exa's armor, although it did not appear to be his own.
"Looks like this was a pretty intense battle," Aramis began.
"Yeah…" Exa said. "We probably could have used your help."
"I wasn't invited," Aramis said gently. Exa didn't look surprised. The Mandalorian wore a grim expression.
"She's inside with her father," he said at last. Aramis nodded and passed by the group. He entered the control room, which was a long, narrow room with computer stations lining one side. Viewports provided a view of the canyon that the entrance to the hangar was hidden within.
Palor sat in a rolling chair in front of his daughter. The older twi'lek wore a brown overcoat over an armored breastplate, which seemed a rather tight fit over the aging gangster's prominent belly. He wore an anguished expression on his face as Uraala spoke to him.
For her part Uraala seemed unharmed, for which Aramis was infinitely grateful. But she did look fatigued, more so than he had seen her since she had started her new treatment. Neither of the Aven's seemed to realize Aramis had entered the room, not until he cleared his throat and waited for them to turn.
Uraala started and then rose to her feet. She took in Aramis with her eyes, her expression quickly gliding from relief to shame. She crossed the meter separating them and threw herself into his arms.
"I'm sorry," she began. She wasn't sobbing, but she seemed close to it.
"What happened?" Aramis asked. "You left without telling me anything."
"I...I knew there was a fight coming. I didn't want you involved. Family business…"
"You know that I would have helped, no matter what," Aramis answered.
"She executed the leader of the Ard clan," Palor said from behind them. Aramis looked over at him. He looked angry, but his anger didn't seem directed entirely at Uraala.
"He had surrendered, had ordered his people to stop fighting, and…I murdered him," Uraala admitted.
"You were in a battle…" Aramis began slowly. "They attacked first, at the hangar." He didn't know why he was trying to excuse her behavior. Killing a defenseless prisoner was against every precept of the Jedi, precepts that he still believed in even though the Jedi Order was gone.
"I've never been bloodthirsty like this before," Uraala said. "I'm not trying to excuse my actions or claim I was never in control, but...you're warnings about my treatment? You were right. That medicine is altering my behavior. Changing the way I treat the people I care about, much less enemies."
"My daughter has been involved in a lot of fights and skirmishes over her young career," Palor said. "But she's never been this careless. We could have removed the Ard clan from this fight, now, even though we are shipping them out, we will have to look over our shoulders. They will be seeking revenge." The elder twi'lek switched his gaze from Uraala to Aramis. "What it is exactly about her treatment that perturbs you so? She told me that it is highly experimental…"
"They make it by combining a special bacta mix with narcotic spice," Aramis answered. "The final ingredient is powdered kyber crystal. They are trying to harness the Force to boost the healing effects, but the Force reacts unpredictably when you try to do something like this. I'm not a Jedi, but I have some of their Force sensitivity. Her treatment, it gives off sensations that come only from the Dark Side."
"Would that explain why it is making her...darker, more impulsive?" Palor asked.
"Those are traits generally associated with the dark side of the Force," Aramis said, nodding.
"And yet she can't stop taking her injections altogether. Without them she wouldn't survive long," Palor added, his voice falling.
"I believe there may be another solution out there," Aramis said. "The previous enhance bacta treatments, these new injections, they are only attempting to treat the symptoms of her problem. A problem that began when a Sith artifact exploded near her."
"What are you suggesting?" Uraala asked.
"The problem is coming from the Force. You're tainted somehow. I believe that only the Force itself can help her, not some concoction mixed together by mad scientists. If I had access to the Jedi archives I might be able to find a solution. But since that is not possible, we have to try the next best center of knowledge in the galaxy. Obroa-Skai."
"That's where you're heading off to?" Palor asked. Aramis nodded. "That may do nicely."
"What do you mean?" Aramis asked.
"I'm a target now," Uraala said. "Every member of the Ard clan, and all of their allies on Malastare, want me dead. Not to mention my Uncle and cousin…"
"You're Uncle?" Aramis asked.
"Has betrayed us," Palor said. "Tyrapas led the attack on the hangar, gave the Ard clan the access codes. My brother wanted his immature son to be the heir ever since Uraala got sick. When she started getting better…"
"We haven't told anyone else yet, none of the lieutenants. We don't know who will remain loyal to my father and who will throw their support behind my uncle."
"I believe most of them will remain with me," Palor said. "But not all. There is going to be a civil war. Uraala can't stay on Malastare." He looked down at his daughter. "You have to go with him to Obroa-Skai."
"If I leave I'm basically giving up my claim to leadership," Uraala said, grimacing. "If I run away who will want to follow me in the future."
"If you stay it will be nearly impossible to fight this war. Between the Ard clan, my brother's loyalists, whoever else they can pay off…"
"Yeah, I get it," Uraala said. He pushed herself out of Aramis' arms. "Fine. Obroa-Skai it is."
He noticed that the dark circles beneath her eyes were beginning to return. Her skin was beginning to look pallid. Despite the dark nature of her treatment, it did seem to be keeping her alive. "If you take half doses of your injections how long can you go without coming back?" Aramis asked.
"A month, maybe," she answered.
Aramis grimaced. He took one of her hands in his, their blue skin tones nearly matching. "We can do this."
Palor placed his hand on Aramis's back. "I'm glad she found you," he said. "I hope you're Jedi training can help her." He turned to his daughter. "I believe I can resolve this conflict in a month."
"Are you going to kill…" Uraala began.
"I have to, now. He's forced my hand," Palor finished.
