Chapter Three: Shadows of Power

Attros Finn looked glumly at the counterfeit Noetikon. "Who could have done this?" he wondered.

Wyn had called him out to the Temple. Canlyn wasn't sure why. There didn't appear to be much for him to do, beyond prepare a report for Republic security. Based on his expression, Canlyn guessed that this theft would not be a high priority for the Republic.

They left Attros, who was reviewing surveillance footage in the hope that the thief had been recorded.

They returned to the Medical Center to find Master Yuon out of bed, apparently talking intently with Kira while Master Kiwiks looked on. For an instant, Canlyn dared to hope that her condition was improving.

Then she saw that Yuon was holding a scalpel, which was leveled at Kira's throat.

Bela held up her hands, palms-up, keeping them clearly visible as she attempted to reason with Yuon. "Please, Yuon, let Kira go. I promise that nobody here will hurt you."

"Yes, Bela. But maybe I want to hurt this child." Yuon spoke the words as if she herself was puzzled by them, but the scalpel in her hand did not waver. Then a grin – all the more horrible for how innocent it looked. "Yes, I think I'd like to break her bones. I'd enjoy hearing them go pop, pop, pop."

An invisible force pushed Kira against the wall, and then moved her up it, all the way to the ceiling. The young woman cried out in fear and surprise. Bela started to move forward, but Yuon stopped her with a wag of her finger.

"One step closer, and I will pull her arm from its socket. Pop, pop, pop." She made the threat in a child's sing-song, the grin not wavering. This was a game, not reality; Kira a ragdoll, not a person.

Canlyn spoke up, hoping that her voice might reach her Master. "This isn't you, Master Yuon."

Yuon's eyes flicked toward her. Canlyn saw confusion, uncertainty. She pressed further, chancing a step forward.

"I know you don't want to hurt anybody," she said. "You are being controlled. Fight it."

"Fight?" The uncertainty vanished, and the grin returned. "What's a few broken bones between friends?" She held up the scalpel, pointing it at Canlyn. "Want to play?"

Now Qyzen spoke. "Peace, Yuon! There is no prey for you here."

Yuon ignored him, her eyes sweeping over Kira. The air seemed to squeeze the padawan more tightly into the join between all and ceiling. Kira gasped as the air was pushed from her lungs.

"What game shall we play?" Yuon asked. "Shall we cut out her ears first, or her eyes?"

The color was leaving Kira's face. Canlyn had to draw Yuon's attention quickly. She stepped forward again.

"Please, Master. It's me, Canlyn. Your padawan."

Yuon's eyes returned to her. As her attention shifted, the invisible grip on Kira seemed to relax. The young woman began to breathe again.

The confusion returned to Yuon's face. "I don't have a padawan. She was outside when the Flesh Raiders attacked. Before the day was done, they dined."

"No." Canlyn spoke firmly, keeping her eyes firmly on Yuon's. "The Jedi pushed the Flesh Raiders back, Yuon. I returned to the Temple with the holorecordings. Don't you remember?"

Yuon was wavering. Canlyn searched for something to bring her Master to reality. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Qyzen. The Trandoshan clearly didn't know how to react to this situation.

Qyzen.

"You remember Qyzen, don't you?" Canlyn asked. "Your old friend? He was there."

"Qyzen?" Yuon's voice was plaintive, almost a plea. "No, the Flesh Raiders devoured him too."

Qyzen spoke. "Am here, Yuon. Herald lives, and so do I."

Yuon's gaze flicked from Canlyn to Qyzen, then to Master Kiwiks.

"Qyzen?" she asked. "Bela? What…?"

Yuon collapsed. Canlyn barely had time to catch her frail body, to stop her from crashing to the floor.

Kira started to fall from the ceiling, only for Master Kiwiks to focus on her and guide her slowly down. Ashara moved toward her. "Are you all right?"

Kira managed a weak smile. "Let's... not do that again, okay?"

Bela called for the healers. Once she explained what had happened, they agreed to restrain Yuon. Bela then turned her attention to the trio: Canlyn, Qyzen, Ashara. When her eyes fell on Ashara, she gave a disapproving frown, but otherwise said nothing.

"Attros gave me permission to use his office," Bela said. "We can speak there."

For the second time that day, they squeezed themselves into the tiny room. This time, Bela took the place behind the desk. Kira standing behind her.

"Cozy," Kira remarked.

Bela ignored her, focusing entirely on Canlyn. "You said Master Yuon was being controlled. What did you mean?"

Canlyn launched into an explanation, detailing what she had learned from the Noetikons. "The Masters were certain that it's a kind of mind control, but without the final Noetikon, they couldn't identify it." She frowned. "Who would steal a Jedi artifact?"

Ashara laughed. "You're so sheltered, Lyn. This isn't Tython, it's Coruscant: Criminal gangs, smugglers, collectors, mercenaries. They could be working for the person who did this to Yuon, or they could just think it's something they can sell. Take your pick!"

To Canlyn's surprise, Bela nodded agreement. "Miss Zavros is right," she said. Canlyn saw Ashara flinch slightly at the word "Miss." A reminder that she was now an outsider, her presence merely something to be tolerated.

Bela continued. "I understand that the Migrant Merchants Guild has recently been suppressed, so they are unlikely to be involved. Unfortunately, both the Black Sun and the Justicars remain very active, and smuggler activity is high. A Senator Kayl gave me the name of a man who might be able to help – a Darmas Pollaran, who owns a room at the Dealer's Den Cantina. The senator suggests that he might narrow down your search."

Canlyn frowned. "Our search? Aren't you going to help?"

Bela shook her head. "I'm sorry, but I am on a mission of my own, and a recent message from Tython makes it all the more urgent. I'm already overdue at the Senate building. However, I can lend you my padawan."

Kira seemed surprised. "Master Kiwiks?"

Bela smiled. "I believe that earlier today, you expressed your frustration with our negotiations and a wish for something more tangible to do. And I think Canlyn will benefit from your assistance."

Kira inclined her head. "Understood, Master."

Bela rose. She awkwardly circled the desk during her move to the door, but still managed to reach out for Canlyn's hand.

"I wish you luck," she said. "Master Yuon is a dear friend. I would mourn her loss."

"Thank you," Canlyn replied.

Then Bela was gone, leaving Canlyn, her friends, and Kira to discuss their next move.

Arkarix Krell was tired.

It had been 2 AM when his Master's summons had come, and he had been fast asleep. Despite the hour, Darth Baras had sounded impatient. Vette had called for a speeder while he rushed washing up and getting dressed.

The pilot droid had pushed the vehicle to maximum at Krell's urging. Organic or mechanical, everyone in the Empire knew better than to argue with a Sith. He and Vette were at the Sith Sanctum and in Darth Baras's office a mere twenty minutes after his sudden awakening.

To his surprise, his Master was not alone.

"Apprentice." Darth Baras's deep voice boomed from beneath his mask. "I believe you have already met Cipher Nine."

The young Imperial Agent looked nervous as she stood opposite Baras, but she did her best to remain composed. She inclined her head toward Krell. "My Lord."

Imperial Intelligence? Krell was surprised. Darth Baras controlled his own intelligence network. Not long ago, he had bragged of his reach.

Baras noticed his reaction. "A matter has arisen which requires immediate attention. Imperial Intelligence has information I do not. As they should – It is their function, after all."

Even as he said this, Krell detected irritation in Baras's voice. He knew that his Master hated not knowing things. Ignorance was vulnerability.

Baras glanced at Vette. "The slave should leave. This is not for outside ears."

Krell was pleased to see that Vette looked to him for permission before leaving. He gave her a nod. "Wait for me at the apartment," he said.

Once they were alone, Baras gestured to Cipher Nine. "I requested Cipher Nine specifically," he said. "Since she is under Darth Jadus's protection, she will be less inclined to sand the edges off inconvenient facts. And she already knows that a discussion with a Sith is confidential, even from her superiors."

The Sith Lord's good eye fixed itself to Cipher's, and his grim tone seemed to communicate that even Darth Jadus's protection had its limits if she disobeyed.

Cipher gave no acknowledgement of the threat. She simply stepped forward and began to speak.

"Two weeks ago, there was an attempted defection by a high-ranking Imperial officer," she said. "We will refer to him by the code name he selected for himself: 'The General.' He jettisoned himself in an escape pod at the edge of Imperial space, where he was picked up by the Brentaal Star, a Republic military vessel."

Krell cocked his head. "So that's why our forces attacked."

"Yes," Cipher confirmed. "The boarding party was small, and the Republic forces were able to repel our troops. But not before we located and eliminated 'The General.' "

"Cipher Nine is being too modest," Baras observed. "It was she who performed the execution."

"Yes, My Lord." A slight edge in her voice. Just a flicker, but enough for Krell to see that she had taken no pleasure in this kill.

She continued her briefing, turning her attention fully to Krell. "Follow-up investigations have drawn a link between 'The General' and a group that has been operating for some time within the Empire. What do you know of the Revanites?"

Krell frowned. "A kind of cult, aren't they? Worshipping some minor Sith Lord, not even one of the ones commemorated on Korriban."

Baras laughed, a harsh and metallic sound that set Krell's nerves on end. "Revan was no minor Lord, apprentice. At one time, he controlled the entire Empire. Then he turned against the Empire and all but destroyed it."

Krell couldn't disguise his shock, much to Baras's glee. "I suppose your ignorance is a tribute to our suppression efforts. The Emperor decreed that Revan be erased from history. All texts so much as mentioning him have been purged. Nevertheless, like a common roach, his stench persists."

Cipher Nine continued. "Neither Intelligence nor your Master knows exactly how far the Revanites' reach extends. Every agent we have attempted to place with them has either turned their loyalties to them or has died at their hands. We know that they have agents throughout the Empire, however, and it's been rumored that some of those agents are high-ranking government officials."

"Including some high-ranking Sith," Baras added. "That's the part you didn't wish to say aloud, isn't it Agent?"

Cipher bowed her head. "I apologize, my Lord." She turned back to Krell. "The Revanites have been tolerated because their reach makes them inconvenient to eliminate, and they have shown no disloyalty other than their devotion to this one historical figure. But if 'The General' belonged to the Revanites, then the situation has changed."

"How do you know his affiliation with this cult had anything to do with his defection?" Krell asked.

"Before he died, 'The General' spoke of certain projects, both here and in the Republic," Cipher replied. "Even within Intelligence, only Keeper has clearance to know such information. Keeper has verified that 'The General' had no direct connection to these projects. The most reasonable conclusion is that he was told by a fellow Revanite, one who did have access, and that this contact led to his actions."

"Actions that might have mobilized the Republic against us," Baras observed. "That might even have provoked the Jedi."

"Intelligence has been laying groundwork for another infiltration," Cipher said. "We have identified a Revanite cell, operating not far from Lord Grathan's estate, about 20 kilometers northwest of The Wall."

"Is Lord Grathan suspected?"

Cipher froze, not wanting to respond.

Baras answered for her. "I would not rule it out," he said. "Grathan is a schemer, and I find it difficult to believe that they are operating under his nose without his knowledge. Still, for now we will give him a wide berth. He is not the target of this operation."

Cipher continued. "We have secured an artifact that should attract the Revanites' attention. The mask worn by Darth Revan during his time among the Sith."

Baras pulled a box out from under his desk. Inside was a mask, pure metal. Age had left its mark: Corrosion and rust ate away at the mask, accentuating its ancient battle scars. Despite its age, Krell could feel the power emanating from it. When he lived, Revan must have been a force to be reckoned with.

"Present this trinket," Baras said dismissively. "Convince them that you wish to join their ranks."

"Why should they believe me?" Krell asked. "An outsider, showing up with a prized artifact? I would be suspicious in their place."

"Oh, they'll be suspicious," Cipher confirmed. "But if you have one artifact, then you might have access to more. That will be enough for them to listen to you. After that, stay as close to the truth as possible. Based on what we know, most Sith who join aren't initially interested in Revan. They just learn that high-ranking people are connected to the organization, and see it as a way to gain power. That's what you're seeking: connections, influence, a way to pave your path to the Dark Council itself. Whatever your personal ambitions may be, use those as your reasons for being interested in the cult."

Cipher crossed to Baras's desk and picked up the mask. Krell could tell she had no Force abilities. No Force user could have touched such an object and not reacted to its energy. To a mundane, however, it was nothing but an object.

She extended it to him. "The best lie is the truth," she emphasized. "Bad agents trip themselves up with contradictory covers. Good agents make the truth work for them. Be a good agent, and with a little luck you'll be fine."

Krell took the mask. He gasped the instant he made contact. A series of images: Star Destroyers. A planet, aflame. A beautiful Jedi, staring at him from beneath twin desert suns. A scarred Sith, charging toward him with a lightsaber. A voice: "You are nothing… You will forever stand alone."

The images faded from his mind. He felt light-headed, and his heart raced in his chest.

The vision must have taken but an instant. Cipher Nine had noticed nothing.

"If all goes well, this will be a long-term mission," she said. "It could take years to learn enough to cripple the organization. But it is the best way."

"What if all doesn't go well?" Krell asked.

Cipher smiled humorlessly. "Then I hope you're ready to fight."

Canlyn had never been inside a cantina before. Her mental image was based on the suspense and romance holo novels that had, despite the Council's disapproval, circulated among Tython's younglings and padawans. In her mind's eye, they were cramped places, filled with a smoky haze and desperate characters.

Darmas Pollaran did not strike her as desperate. Middle-aged, with salt and pepper hair and a face marked by laugh lines, he grinned in turn at her, Ashara, and Kira even as he attacked the egg-and-sausage plate that was obviously his breakfast. He ignored Qyzen, clearly dismissing the Trandoshan as no more than a bodyguard.

"So Senator Kayl sent you?" he said. "I'll have to thank her. It's been a while since I've been graced with so much delightful company in a single visit."

His teeth were the kind of immaculate white that at his age only came through artificial recoloring. His smooth friendliness struck Canlyn as equally manufactured, and she noticed that his eyes did not smile with his face even as he flirted.

"The senator indicated that you might be able to help," Canlyn said.

"Artifacts stolen from the old Jedi Temple," he mused. "Sounds like something out of an adventure vid."

"Have you heard anything?" Kira asked. Canlyn could hear the impatience in the young woman's voice.

"Not a thing," Darmas replied. His eyes openly scanned Kira's form, and the wattage of his plastic smile increased. "I might make a few inquiries. For a price."

"We have no money," Canlyn said. "Jedi do not believe in material possessions."

"And yet your Temples occupy expensive real estate and contain all manner of valuables." He did not bother to hide his disdain. "Isn't that interesting?" He smiled again, his flirtatiousness returning. "Still, three lovely ladies like yourselves might find a way to make it worth my time."

His eyes strayed back to Kira. He clearly found the pretty human woman more appealing than either of the aliens. He reached out to touch her wrist.

Canlyn didn't detect the action until it was to late. One instant, Darmas was touching Kira's wrist. The young woman's face was white, her posture frozen and her emotions a swirl that Canlyn couldn't quite identify. The next instant, Darmas's breakfast plate was in the air, the food raining over his face and designer tunic.

They all sat in place, shocked.

"Well." Darmas reached for his napkin and began cleaning the food from his face and hair. "I suppose that famous Jedi restraint is just another fabrication. I don't know whether to feel smug or disappointed. Either way, I'd say this concludes our business. I'm sorry I couldn't help you ladies."

He rose, bowed.

"Oh, come on, Darmas. You know you had that coming." A woman's voice piped up from the far corner. Canlyn glanced over.

She was a slim human, at least ten years younger than Darmas, though the light wrinkles around her eyes and forehead marked her as older than any of the three young Jedi. Unlike Darmas, her smile was genuine, warmth visible in her eyes.

"Mirana." Darmas's voice chided gently. "This is my business, not yours. You of all people know that there's no profit in taking on Jedi problems."

Darmas turned to the young Jedi. "Allow me to introduce a small piece of your history. Mirana Kahl, the woman who saved the Jedi Grandmaster when the Sith attacked Korriban. And what did you get for your heroic deeds, old friend? Gold? Riches? Do the Jedi accept your calls? Does the Grandmaster even remember your name?"

Mirana shrugged in reply. "I've never tried calling her. I don't think we run in the same social circles. She put in a good word that kept me out of prison, at least. More than you did, as I recall."

"There was a failure of intelligence in that operation," Darmas acknowledged. "Still, you should have received some reward. But then, Jedi do not believe in material possessions, do they?" His eyes returned to Canlyn, mocking her.

He stood. "If you'll excuse me, I'm going to take a shower. And send out laundry." He fingered his tunic, now generously covered in egg and sausage. "Alderaanian silk. Even a friendly conversation with Jedi costs money."

He walked out, not sparing his guests so much as a backward glance.

"Don't mind him," Mirana said. "Darmas isn't a morning person."

"It's mid-afternoon," Ashara pointed out.

"For Darmas, that's morning."

"Did you really save the Grandmaster?" Ashara asked.

"She wasn't the Grandmaster then. Besides, I mostly just saved myself. Satele Shan just came along for the ride." She approached the table, started to sit in the chair Darmas had vacated. Then frowned at the food scraps and perched at the edge of the table "I was listening in on your problem."

"You were spying on your friend, you mean," Kira said.

A quick grin. "Darmas may be a friend, but that doesn't mean I trust him. Anyway, a slicer I helped out was also listening, and she ran some information while you three were starting a food fight."

Canlyn leaned forward. "Does she know where the Noetikon is?"

Mirana shook her head. "Not exactly. But Republic security reported a group of Gand scavengers near the Jedi Temple last night. They went to ground in the Old Galactic Market."

"I know the area," Kira said. "Since Security cleared out the Migrant Merchants' Guild, it shouldn't be hard to track down a few Gand."

Mirana held up a hand. "The Gand aren't the only lead. Kixi also flagged a message to Darmas from a doctor who's volunteering in Black Sun Territory."

Canlyn frowned. "The Black Sun?"

"A street gang," Ashara clarified.

"More like a full-blown crime syndicate," Mirana said. "This doctor – Maer – has been allowed to operate there because he helps everyone, civilians and gang members, and because he knows not to ask questions. The message didn't give specifics, but it alluded to Jedi artifacts."

Two leads, Canlyn reflected. Either one could lead them to the Noetikon – or both could be irrelevant. "We split up," she declared.

Kira frowned. "Is that wise? I'm not worried about the Gand, but Black Sun are dangerous."

"Master Yuon grows weaker with every passing hour." Canlyn was surprised at the firmness in her voice. "We need to make haste. Kira, you know the Old Market, so you and Ashara go there. Qyzen and I will go to the Black Sun."

"Bad plan," Ashara said. Canlyn started to argue, but Ashara cut her off. "Sorry, Lyn, but you've spent your whole life in the Order. Even with Qyzen, you'll have a target on your back the second you set foot in there."

"And you won't?" Canlyn snapped.

"I know these types of people. I'm a better bet to get the information. Don't worry. Qyzen will protect me." She nodded at Qyzen, who inclined his head in response.

Mirana grinned, looked at them almost proudly. "Sounds like you have a plan. Sorry I can't narrow it down more."

"It's more than we had when we came," Canlyn said. "I wish we could pay you for your trouble – "

Mirana waved that away.

"You'll owe me a favor," she said. "Who knows? Someday, I may even call on you to collect."