Roganda's shuttle was one of the fastest vehicles in space. Originally a dispatch boat designed to carry communications too vital to be sent via the HoloNet or passengers who couldn't be, it had military-grade hyperdrives tuned by some of the best engineers the Kuat Drive Yards had to offer. Then Roganda had spent years hiring engineers to modify and improve it. The result was that she arrived at Coruscant a few hours before Pulsar Skate did.
The arrival at Coruscant was more complicated than she had expected. It became clear, after only a few minutes reviewing the local HoloNet's datafeeds, that Coruscant had been attacked, and that the attack had been largely successful. The image of Natasi Daala, wearing the stark white of an Imperial Grand Admiral, was in the corner of every broadcast as commentators speculated about her history and her recent successes.
Roganda didn't think much of Daala, or much about her. She'd never been overly concerned with the Starfleet or its personnel. Still, she could appreciate talent when it forcibly imposed itself on her universe… even if it made her infiltration into Coruscant slightly more difficult. Ultimately, though, the multiplicity of fake identifications that Palpatine had forged her remained valid. Coruscant was not a world which could afford to shut down travel for long. It was too busy, too important, the hub that brought the galaxy together in one place.
It was also very easy to blend in, once she was on the ground.
She had a few options for what to do next and she had spent the entire trip from Nar Shaddaa evaluating those options. Everything depended on what the Jedi would do with their prize. If they secured it in former Imperial facilities, such as what was left of the not-yet-fully dismantled Imperial Palace, she would be able to get in without too much difficulty. The numerous override codes she had access to as the Emperor's Hand still worked, and they especially still worked in the facilities that the Emperor had constructed himself. But they likely knew that as well as she did, given Mara Jade's former affiliations, which made it more likely that they would secure the Engine on their own turf.
The hours she had in advance of their return, therefore, she spent staking out the so-called Jedi Consulate. Doing her best to keep herself small in the Force—there were too many Force sensitives in this place to take any chances—she systematically surveyed the structure from all sides, identifying all the entrances. There were the landing pads for direct entry, but also numerous windows for potential covert or aggressive entry, and on Coruscant there was always the possibility of entry from the building's lower levels and then climbing upwards, though that option was not very appealing.
She would make a decision about how best to approach later. When the computer twanged, alerting her to the fact that Pulsar Skate had just been identified by Coruscant's navigational system, she kicked her airspeeder to full throttle, heading directly away from the Consulate. She would return—when she was ready.
In the front window of her speeder the Imperial Palace loomed. Some of the enormous towers that the Emperor had constructed around the original structure were still present, spiraling and creating the highest peak in the Senatorial District. Most had been dismantled. Enormous construction and reclamation droids surrounded the structure continuing the dismantling day and night, with crews working hard to reclaim as much of the raw material and all the valuable assets as possible.
She set her speeder down in a large parking facility a few blocks away. Over the next few hours she made her way towards the structure on foot, using the Force and her espionage training to bypass New Republic security checkpoints and avoid construction crews. Around the interior building security was extremely high, but around the outer ring it was laxer. Most of those structures were now gone, after all, leaving behind only their foundations, which were nothing but solid permacrete and should still be present.
It was with sudden, horrified fear that she realized that some of those foundations were already gone. One had been excavated, and with a sinking feeling Roganda realized that the New Republic knew that Palpatine had hidden secret facilities within the seemingly impermeable blocks of solid permacrete. She feared her plans had been foiled… but the New Republic had not finished excavating all the outer ring towers. They had started with Tower Fourteen and were steadily working their way around… but Tower Eight was as yet untouched.
Hope and confidence flared back to life. She didn't need her old facility, but it would definitely make things a lot easier.
At ground level, the remains of the Palace complex were a sprawling labyrinth. At the center of the structure were a number of old buildings that dated back to the early days of even the Old Republic, and archaeological restoration of those structures was evidently part of the New Republic's plan, but virtually every other structure within a wide radius around the palace had been leveled. The buildings that had replaced them became part of the sprawling Imperial Palace, a governing facility that centralized authority for much of the known galaxy into a single space. That labyrinth was now Roganda's best friend, because even half-dismantled it offered no end to potential cover. Using her jammer she scrambled all the holocams in the area and made her way from building to building, blending with construction workers and droids as much as possible.
There was something else that would make this easier…
Concentrating, she reached out with the Force. There were minds all around her, but she looked for ones alone. Careful to stay out of sight, she made her way towards one that seemed promising—a construction worker, a woman who was examining some of the work that had already been done. She was near Tower Five—one of the towers which it seemed had not concealed some secret Imperial facility, but had been the solid block of permacrete it appeared to be on maps—and taking notes on a datapad.
Lost in her work, the woman didn't hear Roganda behind her. She was using a holocam to take holos of the structure, then making notes—about what, Roganda had no idea—but she finally noticed Roganda's approach when the Emperor's Hand was only twenty feet away.
"Hey!" the woman waved at her. "It's not safe around here! This is a construction zone, and there may be explosives in these ruins! When we dismantled Tower Two it exploded!"
Roganda held her hand by her ear and waved it in a circle, offering the woman a quizzical look. The construction worker sighed and shook her head; as she got closer, Roganda saw that she was a bit older, with graying hair and a professional demeanor. "I said it isn't safe here! You should go back the way you came—" she waved her hand, pointing her datapad away from the palace's growing ruins "—because we've had multiple fatalities from Imperial booby traps just in the last two days. I'm here checking to make sure that there aren't—"
Roganda jabbed the other woman in the stomach, driving all the air from her lungs. The woman's expression was one of stunned surprise, then Roganda couldn't see her face anymore as she wrapped an arm around her neck and squeezed. Dropping to the ground for added leverage, she tightened her grip until she felt the woman's gleaming presence in the Force go dark.
There would be no way to pretend this was a construction accident. Roganda efficiently stripped the woman of her clothes and put them on, then hid the body in the ruins. It would be found in no more than a day, but that would be enough time.
With her appropriated clothes, including the attached security pass, Roganda was able to make her way to Tower Eight. This tower was still standing—though if she had arrived even just a day or two later, it might not have been. The construction teams looked poised to begin work on it.
All was providence.
She stepped close to the smooth, painted stone of the tower, looking for the right place. She pressed her palm to the stone and shifted her fingers. There was a click, and Roganda stepped back as creases in the stone appeared and a heavy door swung slowly open.
Roganda flicked on her glowrod, casting its beam down the corridor. She didn't feel any presence, but her first line of defense had always been droids and they didn't have one, so she focused instead on amplifying her danger sense. When she didn't sense any immediate danger, she hurried down the long, featureless permacrete corridor. The familiar passageways were unchanged from her last visit, which was a relief—there had been a chance that even if the New Republic hadn't known about this place, that someone like Ysanne Isard might have found it before being forced to retreat from Coruscant.
But when she arrived at the heart of Tower Eight, it became clear that Isard had not found this place. It was out of time, a little reminder of the Empire at the height of its glory—the Empire that she would restore and rule. The Empire that belonged to her by right.
A small army of deactivated battle droids, the predecessors of the ones she had brought with her to Nar Shaddaa, were laid out in their cradles, dusty with disuse, though not damaged by the nearby demolition work. Combat droids with legs and blaster rifles, repulsor-mounted droids with hoversleds and mini-missiles, all that and more were here. At the far side of the room was a heavy freighter that looked innocuous, but Roganda knew better.
It was an army of unquestioning, loyal servants. It was a bulwark against the galaxy trying to bring her down. It would provide everything she would need, and more, to give the Rebels and anyone who doubted her a sharp taste of what was to come.
Pulsar Skate raced through hyperspace at a speed only slightly slower than the Millenium Falcon on her best day. The flowing lines of the vessel's ocean-dwelling design inspiration gave their passage through the spinning lights of hyperspace an oddly oceanic feel—Luke didn't usually consider the parallel of space to an ocean made by all too many people; to him, space was far closer to the harsh deserts of Tatooine than anything oceanic—but aboard Skate the analogy it felt a little more appropriate. Still, despite that, he would have preferred to be back aboard Tempered Mettle.
"How long until we arrive?"
Asori Rogriss sat perched in the chair Mirax had offered her, towards the rear of Pulsar Skate's bridge. Luke was still getting accustomed to the appearance of the woman in her Imperial uniform; somehow it just didn't look like it fit just right. But Luke himself had once dreamed of going to the Imperial Academy just to get off Tatooine, so perhaps it wasn't right for him to judge the life choices of others. Besides, it wasn't like he hadn't wanted to follow in his father's footsteps too, as she had.
"Hours yet. We're making good time, but we have enough time for a meal before reversion," Mirax said.
Asori nodded awkwardly, then her head swiveled to take in their surroundings. "Commander Dreyf was working on his report for the Admiral. Where's Jedi Jade?"
Luke had just been wondering that himself. Through their bond in the Force he felt no threats, nor had Mara sent him any kind of warning that something was wrong. "I'm not sure. I'll go see where she is and get started on dinner."
He found Mara on the couch in the Skate's primary lounge. Someone had pulled a blanket over her—Luke wasn't sure who, but he guessed it had been Liat—because she had fallen asleep. Her head lolled over the edge of the couch, in as deep a sleep as Luke could remember… which was stunning. For Mara to fall asleep in a public location, with Imperials about, and with that powerful Force artifact stowed in the Skate's secure hold, was nothing short of astonishing.
She must have been exhausted. Smiling, Luke carefully slid onto the couch next to her. "Hey," he murmured.
She started, staring blearily at him as she gradually returned to consciousness. Her poleaxed expression almost made him laugh. "Mmh? Huh?"
"You fell asleep," Luke explained, able to hide his laugh but not able to hide his broadening smile. She was cute when she was like this.
"Asleep?" Mara asked. "What time is it?"
"Middle of the afternoon in the Palace District on Coruscant. You're usually adjusted to time switches faster than this."
Mara rubbed her face with both hands. "During my time as the Emperor's Hand, I used to be able to stay awake for—"
Now Luke did laugh, and sudden realization passed over Mara's expression. Slowly, she offered him a rueful smile. "I used that line when threatening you on Myrkr, didn't I?" she said, and yawned widely. "I am tired. I didn't miss dinner?"
"No, I was just about to get started on it. If you want to help…"
Mara scoffed. "Farmboy, we both know that if I try to help you with dinner, we're all going to go hungry until Coruscant. Have the Imperials behaved?"
"I haven't seen Dreyf, but there's no indication that anyone has tried to breach the secure hold." Luke helped her to her feet, a gesture which under other circumstances would have earned him a glare, but Mara was evidently still sufficiently sleep-addled that she didn't notice.
"I'll go check on it, just to be safe. I was supposed to be doing that." She shook her head. "I can't believe I fell asleep."
The self-recrimination was mild, without any bitterness. For that, Luke was grateful. He kissed her forehead fondly. "I'll do my best to make something you like out of Mirax's supplies."
Asori Rogriss sat with her back straight in one of the Pulsar's Skate passenger seats as it came out of hyperspace, appearing just outside of Coruscant's gravity well. Slowly they coasted in towards the busy planet. Warships were assembled in formation just inside the well, protectively guarding the hordes of civilian transports and freighters streaming in and out of Coruscant to provide for the needs of its masses.
They did not approach the planet. Instead, they vectored towards the warships, their forms growing large as they approached.
She saw the entire New Republic Fifth Fleet from a distance that, were she aboard Termagant, would have meant the immediate death of her command. Lusankya's massive Starbird insignias dwarfed Pulsar Skate, and they were plastered on the hull of a ship that would dwarf Termagant by an even greater margin. She caught herself holding her breath, as if waiting to be fired upon, and forced herself—with difficulty—to relax.
Lusankya looked like it had seen recent combat. Its hull, especially its dorsal hull, was pocked and scarred by unrepaired impact damage.
Dreyf, who was sitting next to her, leaned in. "It looks like Lusankya has seen some action," he murmured.
"It is surprising indeed that Fifth Fleet is still here," Asori murmured back, grateful for the distraction from her upcoming meeting with Antilles. "You would think it would be gone by now. Do you think they went out and came back?"
"With all the rumors floating around Nar Shaddaa about Corellia, maybe there was a battle between Fifth Fleet and Daala."
Asori nodded. Whatever had happened, she was sure to find out soon, so there was little use worrying about it. But if she wasn't worrying about the ships and their guns, she was worrying about her mission and her responsibilities, and that was little better.
"We're coming in for landing now, Lusankya," Mirax said into her comm, and Pulsar Skate nosed towards the Super Star Destroyer's bridge tower landing bay like a tiny fish swallowed by a massive undersea leviathan. The magcon field shimmered as the nose of the freighter penetrated it, and then the sight of Lusankya's hull was past, and the comfortably-familiar hangar interior was there instead. It looked like an Imperial ship—the New Republic hadn't gone to any great trouble to redo the interior furnishings of the Imperial vessels it captured—but instead of rows of orderly stormtroopers, rows of New Republic marines were there instead, a variegated mess of species that still gave Asori a first impression of disorder and chaos.
But then, as chaotic as it might seem, Fifth Fleet had proven itself time and again since the failed peace negotiations between Grand Moff Kaine and the New Republic. More than that, Asori's own crew aboard Termagant was much more diverse than anything the New Order would tolerate. The mix of species who had been brought under the umbrella of Fel's Unknown Regions Expeditionary Force, willingly joining the alliance for their own defense, had been a shock to Asori's system. There were still moments where she felt discomfited. Perhaps there always would be. But her discomfiture, wherever it came from, was simply wrong.
She suppressed it with discipline and intent as Pulsar Skate settled to the deck.
"And we're here," Mirax said cheerfully. "Now that we're here and I have secure access to the Coruscanti HoloNet, I'm going to get caught up on messages. If Corran doesn't check in from Corellia soon, he and I are going to have some words." Mirax looked at Asori. "And you should prepare yourself. I'm not sure how Wedge is going to react to that recording of Syal."
How was she supposed to do that? Asori wondered. "Very well. Thank you for the ride, Captain Terrik."
"This way, Commander," Mara Jade said, poking her head into the bridge and pulling Dreyf to his feet. She nodded at Asori. "There's an officer here to take us to meet with Wedge in his quarters."
A trim, attractive brunette taller than Asori, and clad in a New Republic Fleet uniform with Commodore's pips, stood at the foot of the Pulsar Skate's boarding ramp escorted by an entire platoon of New Republic Marines with intent, expressionless faces. Asori recognized the officer from her briefing book—Commodore Atril Tabanne, General Antilles' current adjutant. The Commodore's dark eyes focused intently on Asori as she and Dreyf descended the ramp. "Welcome aboard Lusankya." She had a brisk Coruscanti accent, one that Asori found oddly reassuring, despite the woman's somewhat brusque tone. "What in the nine hells is this all about?" the Commodore asked.
Asori opened her mouth to answer, but found that Mirax stopped on the way out the door to beat her to it. "We're here to talk to Wedge. It's important."
The Commodore didn't respond. She just narrowed her eyes and assessed Asori and Dreyf. Then she nodded once. "Any surprises?" She asked Jade and Skywalker.
Luke shook his head. "We didn't sense anything and all the medical scans for Yerite and other compounds came back clean."
Tabanne's neutral expression softened and she favored the Jedi with a warm smile."Your word is good enough for me, Jedi Skywalker. That and Mirax's access to top-shelf medical tech. We'll probably have to test you two again to make the brass happy, but that can wait. This way." She led them through the silent gauntlet of alien and human troopers to the lift. A few minutes later, they arrived in a stateroom that made even her father's quarters aboard Agonizer look mundane.
The massive "Admiral's Quarters" aboard Lusankya dwarfed some small spaceships, able to host a decent sized party or an absolutely massive officer's briefing. While the walls were inundated with holopicts of warm landscapes, architectural diagrams, and the black-bordered pictures of squadrons of pilots, the center of the room was dominated by a large holo-map, which displayed a mundane map of the galaxy… though Asori noted that Corellia was now in New Republic red.
Two men, both wearing the New Republic's beige and blue Fleet uniforms were talking quietly and looked up as the door opened, but she noticed that only one of them bore a General's rank badge. When Mirax started forward, Asori fell back, more than happy to have Antilles' childhood friend make first contact.
"Wedge! Have you heard anything about Corran?" Mirax's tone was both happy and concerned, and she and Antilles shared a quick embrace.
"Last I heard he was still on Corellia," Wedge confirmed with a grin, "and he's been invited to help set up their defenses. It's quite the story—" Wedge saw the two Imperial officers standing over Mirax's shoulder and stopped. "I'll tell you later." He moved towards her, but stopped again when he saw Luke. A sudden smile blossomed on his face, one that took years of strain away, and he and Luke shared a back-slapping hug. "Luke, do you and Mara ever not get into some kind of trouble?"
"In our defense, Captain Rogriss and Commander Dreyf were looking for Mirax when they happened upon us," Luke said with a laugh. "Not that we didn't get into all kinds of trouble on our own."
"On that note, we need to borrow a shuttle," Mara said from beside him. Mara and Wedge shook hands with the awkwardness of friends of friends, and then she made a sound of discontent when the second General—who Asori realized with surprise was Han Solo—engulfed Mara in a hug. Mara did her best to ignore the embrace, but she did offer Solo a token pat on the back. "We have a sensitive item we want to move to the Jedi Consulate. It seems like the most secure place… we don't want to keep it in any former Imperial facilities, given that our foe is an ex-Emperor's Hand."
Solo made a disgusted sound. "Ever since watching you work on Kessel I've been paranoid about that," he muttered, releasing Mara so he could embrace Luke. "And don't ask, kid. Daala was an academy buddy and Wedge convinced me to come back to the service. Your sister is tolerating it… for now. Eventually she'll get tired of Threepio's cooking, though."
"I'm sure that's not the only thing she misses, Han," Luke said with a laugh.
"It won't be long," Wedge cut in. "Han's just here to help us deal with Admiral Daala. She attacked Coruscant a few days ago and beat up our logistics train pretty well." He looked at Asori and Dreyf with a cool, assessing gaze that reminded her of her father's when she'd done something silly as a child. "You wouldn't happen to know anything about that, would you?"
"I'm afraid not," Asori said, "We've been on this mission for weeks."
"As it happens," Dreyf said, "the New Order has cut us out of their information loop. Most of our sources are either very dead or very quiet."
"So you're with Pellaeon," Antilles said slowly. He looked at Mirax, then back at Asori. "Captain…"
"Rogriss, sir. Asori Rogriss," she said. Sure enough, just as Fel had promised her, the General's eyes widened slightly at her name. She could see him suddenly pausing, re-evaluating, and looking closely at her—searching for some familial resemblance, perhaps. Commodore Tabanne, too, hesitated and was now looking at her again. Asori did her best not to fidget under their attention. "I'm here to bring a message from Grand Moff Ferrouz and Baron Soontir Fel."
Antilles froze, turning stiffly in shock. "Excuse me?"
Mirax placed her hand on Antilles' back. "It's true," she said. "Wedge…" Mirax's voice went soft, sympathetic, and Asori could see the way Wedge tensed in response. "I think you should sit down. They have something you should see."
Antilles gazed at Mirax for a long moment, then nodded once. It took Mirax only a few moments to set up the holotable.
It was the same message Asori had seen aboard the Pulsar Skate, but this time she considered Antilles as it played.
She had seen Baroness Fel on a few state occasions, always elegantly coiffured and with her children in tow. Quiet, impeccably behaved children who bore a not inconsiderable resemblance to Antilles, now that she saw him in the flesh.
"Hello, Myri," said the recording of Wedge Antilles' sister, giving a fond, earnest smile "It's been a while. I'm sorry for taking so long to reach out to you, but there really hasn't been a good moment until now. Soontir and I need your help."
For Wedge, hearing his sister's voice and seeing her face after all the missing years was a punch to the gut, one of mixed pain, relief, and longing. He had only been ten years old when his big sister had left home—very much against the wishes of his parents, Wedge could remember many arguments in those years before she vanished out of his life—and he still saw in her face the much older sister he had adored. He could feel his hands clench into fists at his side as she spoke to Mirax, so easily falling into the big-sister-surrogate role that she had played all those now-long-ago years before.
"These officers are looking for you because they know that you can get to Wedge, Myri," his big sister said. "That's the extent that I've told anyone who you are. Please help them do that, for all our sakes." Then Syal took a deep, bracing breath—but of course, she had been a professional actress, one of the best, and the gesture of gathering strength could easily be feigned—
"Wedge," she said softly, and Wedge could not believe that the expression of pain, relief, and longing that passed over her features was any more feigned than his own. "Wedge, I'm so sorry."
He could feel all the eyes on him. Luke was the one to react, because of course he was. The two of them had been through the war together, been packed into closets hardly big enough for one, and they had fought the Empire with whatever sticks and rocks were close at hand. The Rogues were the closest things Wedge had to family other than Syal, and he and Luke had been the first Rogues. Luke stepped in close, not touching Wedge, but just being present for him. He was faintly aware of Mirax, his sister in all but blood, taking tentative steps to his other side.
"I don't regret leaving home," his big sister said. "I do regret what it did to you. Soontir told me about his time with the Rogues, the conversations you had. I knew when I left home it would hurt you, but I thought… I certainly didn't know that you would lose Mom and Dad so soon after I left. I thought you had died with them. I mourned you. I didn't realize you were still alive until I saw the wanted posters after Yavin, and I'm so sorry it's taken me this long to reach out to you, and that the reason for this message isn't just because you're my little brother and I love you, but because I'm Baroness Fel and you're General Antilles. I'm so sorry that this whole message is going to be paraded in front of every Imperial intelligence officer and every member of the Republic Senate before this is over."
His sister took a breath. She looked so much older than he remembered her, older even than she had looked in her last holofilms. "You're an Uncle," she said. "Four times over, even. Chak, Cerith, Cem, and Jagged."
Wedge bowed his head and shut his eyes when he heard his father's name.
"I've taken the liberty of enclosing some of their holos in the message. I suppose it goes without saying that Soontir and I are still very much in love and as happy as time and the galaxy permit. And in a way, I suppose that makes us foes, because despite everything Soontir and I are still tied to the Empire, and you are an icon of the New Republic. But I'm hoping this message can help start to bridge that divide."
Syal bowed her head, his pose mimicking Wedge's own. It reminded him eerily of their mother, deep in thought. Something they had either learned or inherited from her.
When Syal resumed speaking, there was a difference in her tone. A dialect that reminded Wedge of his own, the unique Corellian twang that belonged to the children of Corellia's many orbital platforms, faded into something crisper, the aristocratic Coruscanti of Baroness Fel. "The New Order is determined to destroy us both, little brother. Grand Moff Ferrouz is an Imperial, that is undeniable, but you will find that the Empire he and Soontir intend to build is one that the New Republic would accept as a legitimate peer. They have already abolished legalized discrimination against non-humans within their territories. Captain Rogriss will fully brief you on the other changes they intend to make later.
"The New Order has committed many atrocities during its existence. Alderaan. Caamas. Deyer. Dantooine. We are their next target." In his sister's eyes, Wedge could see her pleading, not with the Senators who would see this next, but with him personally. Your sister. Her children. They are the New Order's next target. "They have already attempted to destroy us once, but their attempt failed in large part thanks to the bravery and skill of Captain Rogriss."
Asori Rogriss stirred uncomfortably.
"Soontir and I have no doubt they will try again. They cannot allow us to remain as we are. We are an example to all who still live in the New Order that things can be different and better. That is intolerable for the New Order. While we won the last battle, we may not win the next one. Their attack demonstrated an ability to construct and field droid starfighters in huge numbers. This was not enough to defeat us the last time, but that may no longer be the case the next time. And, of course, we both know that once they have finished us, they will come for you, next."
Syal Antilles, stage name Wynssa Starflare, had played the acceptably bold love interest-turned-strong wife in Imperial performance after Imperial performance, but none compared to this one.
"So, it's best we end their threat together. With the end of the New Order, so ends the war that has plagued this galaxy for so many years."
That was deliberately vague, the corner of Wedge's mind that was still the General thought deeply, pulling everything Baroness Fel said from a dozen different angles. The Empire still grouped the Rebellion against Palpatine's rule as part of the "Clone Wars" on official documents. To COMPNOR, all the resistance to Palpatine's authority—both Old Republican and Imperial—was all one enormous, decades long plot against galactic order. The New Republic, by contrast, defined them quite clearly as independent conflicts. The speechwriters who had prepared Syal's script were very careful parsing those lines.
His sister was an actress. One who had skillfully played so many roles.
Wedge didn't care. He knew his sister and he knew the difference between Wynssa and Syal. This was Syal.
"I love you, Wedge. Stay safe, please. Please. We haven't had a chance to be a real family in so many years, and that's my fault. It is my fault. I am so, so proud of you. I love you. Stay alive and we'll find each other again."
The message died quietly, light rays folding into dark.
Wedge clenched his fists. Luke's hand was warm on his back, and Mirax tucked in against his side. The two Imperials still stood far back, respectfully silent, but even Mara had come closer.
"Very well," he said, in the cool, collected voice of General Antilles, because Wedge still didn't have one. "Han, call your wife. Tell her that we have something that the Inner Council needs to see. Atril, prep a shuttle. We're going directly there."
Atril managed the controls of the sleek New Republic shuttle herself, bringing it expeditiously down towards the Senatorial Skyhook. While their party was small, she, General Antilles, and General Solo were more than qualified to fly a Lambda, and in order to prevent more people from finding out about Captain Rogriss and Commander Dreyf—and the offer they carried for the New Republic—they had minimized the party. Atril would have just come herself, but Han lived on the Skyhook and his wife would be meeting them, so he had invited himself along.
She forced herself not to look back at the pair of Imperials sitting quietly behind them. Their uniforms were impeccable and they carried themselves with the same appearance of professionalism that Atril expected from officers in the Imperial Starfleet… but Atril knew better than most that appearance was all too often only skin deep. At the same time, though, Atril found herself wanting the two Imperials to be here for purely honest reasons. Wedge's stark reaction to the holo of his sister and Fel, and his clear desire to be reunited with them and their family, was one reason. Another was simply what it would mean for the war, because it was suddenly possible, perhaps even probable, that the war could be over soon. Pellaeon and the New Republic working together could no doubt destroy the New Order.
Atril had her own personal sympathies, though. She had been a prisoner of Asori's father, Admiral Teren Rogriss, and he had lived up to his reputation for honorable conduct… including going above and beyond his responsibilities to protect her life and the lives of her captured crew when his superiors had ordered their execution. Asori didn't look exactly like her father—clearly, in appearances she took primarily after her mother, her face less angular and more rounded—but she carried herself with the same sense of bantam-weight aggressiveness that old Admiral Rogriss did. Without some of the good-natured humor—even when he had been interrogating her, Admiral Rogriss had been quick with a smile and a light-hearted comment—but Atril supposed that, under the circumstances, she wouldn't really expect the younger Rogriss to be quite so relaxed.
Commander Dreyf, by contrast, never seemed stressed, but his humor tended towards the dryly observational rather than Asori's staid seriousness—even after a turn in Lusankya's exceptional bioweapons lab.
Atril set the shuttle down on the secure landing pad and depressed the landing ramp. Beyond the shuttle, Coruscant's sky was filled with red-orange clouds.
Han was the first one down the ramp, sprinting past Wedge. Below, Atril could hear him talking with his wife, asking something about their children. She gestured at the Imperials. "After you."
Asori nodded at her, stiff-faced, and walked down the ramp. Dreyf flashed her a quick, irrepressible smile and followed. At the bottom, she discovered that Councilor Organa Solo was not alone. Councilors Ackbar, Fey'lya, and Kerrithrarr were there as well; so too was General Cracken, the head of New Republic Intelligence, and General A'Baht, the head of the New Republic's armed forces.
Han and Leia stopped their quiet discussion as the Imperials' boots stepped off the ramp and onto the Skyhook's landing pad. Asori Rogriss' hand snapped up in a greeting salute. "Captain Asori Rogriss. I am here on behalf of Grand Moff Ferrouz."
"We know," Fey'lya drawled, looking utterly unimpressed with the two Imperials.
"General Antilles says you have come with vital intelligence," General Cracken cut in.
"She has," Han said. "So I'd forgo the normal grandstanding and get to the real work."
To Atril's surprise, Asori stepped forward, folding her hands behind her back. "Between what I was told before I left Poln Major and what I saw on Nar Shaddaa, I believe there is a significant threat to both the Empire—the true Empire—and the New Republic. If you'll allow me, Commander Dreyf and I will explain." She nodded at Han. "Thank you, General Solo." To Atril's even greater surprise, Rogriss then turned to her. "And thank you, Commodore Tabanne."
"My pleasure," she said, the words coming instinctively. Atril glanced over the array of senior officials who had come to meet the Imperial, and felt a sudden pang of sympathy for the interrogation—comfortable, polite, and civilized though it would be—that Asori was about to undergo. "Good luck."
"A distinct pleasure to meet you both in the flesh," said Airen Cracken, stepping forward a single, measured pace. He did not offer to shake hands. Instead, he gestured them forward.
Asori's gaze swung over to Cracken, as did Dreyf's. They both paled, as if suddenly realizing that rogue Sith-powered droids, medical scans on the Skate and then aboard Lusankya wouldn't be nearly the most terrifying, invasive, and life-threatening experience they had encountered in the last few days.
"Let's dive in," Cracken said, and smiled.
When Luke and Mara arrived at the Consulate, the dormant Seed in tow, they found a hefty transport already there. Cargo containers, each one containing a large branch attached to a nutrient frame, were carefully rolled down the cargo ramp… and stepping onto the platform felt as if a cold wind suddenly swirled around Luke. The Force, a constant companion, guidance and life, was suddenly absent.
The Ysalamiri, sessile lizards deeply integrated into those tree branches, dampened the effects of the Force around them. It was part of the creature's evolved defenses, a unique ability. With the four creatures, they could create a large space where the Force would remain utterly quiet for a Jedi. Luke only hoped that it worked the same for the Seed.
The two men guiding the lifter droids to place the nutrient frames safely down waved at Luke and Mara as they approached. "Oi," said Chin.
"I don't know what you need these for," said Aves. "And I don't want to. Karrde just said to get to Myrkr, collect some Ysalamiri and get them to Coruscant as quick as possible, so I did." He frowned. "There isn't another C'baoth out there, huh?"
"There's always another one," said Mara.
"Well that's reassuring," muttered Aves.
"We're going to move the frames to the upper level," Mara said. "All the way at the top. We don't want the Ysalamiri's dampening effect to extend down to the meditation rooms and the tower's defenses and armoring should make that the most secure location."
Luke could not feel his fellow Jedi in the Force, but he could see them. Clearly, the effect of the Ysalamiri was as disturbing to them as it was to him—perhaps moreso, since they had never encountered the creatures before. Kiranai Ti was pale and unhappy, while Streen looked somehow more contemplative than normal.
Kam folded his arms across his chest. "I got your message," he said to Mara. "All the consulate's defense droids have been activated and put on high alert. We're ready to secure the object behind the Ysalamir and our droid defenses."
"And the entirety of Coruscant's planetary defenses," pointed out Tyria.
"Good," Mara said. She waved at Chin and Aves. "You heard them. Let's get the Ysalamiri into place."
As Karrde's people and their droids worked to move both the Seed and the Ysalamri to the highest levels of the Consulate, Luke brought the Jedi together. "We recovered a powerful ancient Force artifact," he explained, making sure that each of them understood. "I'm not sure how powerful, but the vision it shared with me on Nar Shaddaa suggests that it could be used to construct an army… or to consume a star."
"Roganda Ismaren wants it," Mara said, her tone stiff.
"Which means we need to be on high alert," Luke agreed. "For now, the precautions we've taken should be enough to secure it, but—" he gestured at himself, Mara, and Kam, the three members of their new Order he considered to be full Jedi "—one of the three of us should be present here at the Consulate for security purposes at all times."
Kam nodded seriously, resting his hand on the lightsaber that hung from his belt.
"I'm going to perform another round of security upgrades," Mara said.
"And I'm going to talk to Wedge to make sure that the orbit above the Consulate is always protected by Home Fleet," Luke agreed. "Our object is just to contain the object until we understand it better. Tionne, I need you to work on the historical record. All the myths we have of the Jedi of the past, all the stories that you know… hopefully something about it is remembered."
Tionne nodded with unusual gravitas. "Of course."
Luke smiled. Mara, Kam, Tionne, Streen, Tyria, and Kirana Ti… they were missing only Corran and Cilghal. "We've been entrusted with this because we are Jedi," he said. "Trust the Force and yourselves."