At long last, the story continues! I apologize that it has taken so long; I had to focus on work obligations for a long while. I already had four chapters completed, but I wanted to have some more in the bag before I started posting again.

In case you've forgotten what's happened so far, you can reread the recap at the beginning of the story. And now for a summary of Book Four so far:

The Sith attacked Coruscant by blowing up multiple city blocks, including the hotel where Nysilla Zabeth, Ben Skywalker's love interest, was working. Ben ran away from the Jedi Temple, even though Ahsoka had placed him under house arrest, so he could save her. He did, battling PTSD from his experiences on Dromund Kaas all the while, and then he got revenge on Vonar Dykes, the Sith who had been in charge of the Dromund Kaas slave camp.

The Sith also hijacked the Alliance fleet defending Coruscant, including Admiral Mo'Ari's Reliant, using command codes given to them by Mek Dain (who was on the Reliant at the time), and made all of the ships fire on each other until they were all destroyed or disabled. Figuring out Mek's treachery, Mo'Ari sent him on a spacewalk to restore power to the Star Destroyer, but Mek instead vented the ship's atmosphere, killing everyone on board to cover up his crimes. He tried to get to an escape pod, but he ended up falling out of the ship and down to the planet below, where he met a gruesome death.

And, if that wasn't enough, Sith warriors came out of hiding all over Coruscant and started butchering civilians, including at the hospital where the Solos were visiting Jaina. Working together, the family killed all of the Sith at the hospital.

Meanwhile, Ship, the Sith Meditation Sphere, helped Vestara Khai escape from her captivity at the Jedi Temple and took her back to the Sith.

After the attack was over, Ben admitted to Nysilla that he was on the run, which she took surprisingly well, Chancellor Don Dain vowed vengeance against the Sith for killing his son, Ahsoka strained the trust of the Jedi Council by refusing to tell them who had let Vestara into the Jedi Temple, and Allana Solo was left traumatized by the ordeal. And then Darth Hatus hijacked the HoloNet and addressed the galaxy, revealing how the Jedi had betrayed him, that Mek Dain was a traitor, that Don Dain was once a Separatist, and then killing Luke Skywalker.

And now, the story continues...

* Chapter 12 *

Then…

The doors slid open, granting Demood Elppirc entry to the High Council Chamber. In his thirty years at the Jedi Temple, Demood had only been in this room a handful of times, when he was either briefed or debriefed on an assignment. As a Padawan, he had always been present with his master, Cytor Komal Jarpenni. On those occasions, the Jedi Council had paid little attention to him, usually only addressing Master Jarpenni themself. But now, as a Jedi Knight, everyone's attention fell solely on Demood.

As he strode to the center of the circular chamber, he took in the sight of the twelve Jedi Masters who comprised the council. He knew all of them by name and reputation only, but he revered them nonetheless. These were the Jedi who had devoted their lives—no, their very existences—to the Order and the Republic. Demood firmly believed that he would one day join their ranks, for he considered himself similarly devoted to the Jedi Order.

Sitting in the chair across from the chamber entrance was Mace Windu, leader of the council. His dark skin matched the color of his brown robes, making him stand out against the bright backdrop of Coruscant, which could be seen through the panoramic window behind them. His face, as always, was impassive. "Jedi Elppirc," he began. "It looks like you're going home."

Demood tried his best to hide his confusion. The Jedi Temple was the only home he had ever known. It was the only home he needed. He did not understand what Mace meant. But he knew better than to question the Master of the Order. An explanation was undoubtedly forthcoming.

Mace asked, "What do you know of the current state of affairs on Latru?"

Ah, Demood thought, he means my homeworld. He had been born on Latru, but, like nearly all Jedi, he had been identified as Force-sensitive as an infant and brought to Coruscant to be raised as a Jedi. He had no memory of that world, nor did he feel any connection to it. To answer Mace's query, he said, "Not much, Master. I know that Latru is isolated, it's an agricultural world, and its main export is food."

Mace nodded. "The planet also has a large mining operation. Recently, however, its oldest mines have begun to dry up, so the mining companies are looking to move into the newer ones. Everyone wants the mines for themselves, and they are willing to fight for them. The dispute has been escalating, and already, there has been bloodshed. Also, it's effectively halted all mining operations on the planet, which is bad for the economy.

"King Monad Joisûr has requested Jedi aid. However, he's demanded that we only send a Jedi who was born on Latru."

Demood frowned. "Why?"

The masters exchanged glances, unsure of how to answer. Plo Koon, his voice muffled by his antiox breath mask, delicately responded, "He does not trust offworlders. He prefers that Latru handle its own affairs. However, he realizes that the situation with the mining companies has gotten out of control."

Demood nodded his head. "I understand." So, I've been assigned this mission as a compromise. Since I'm the only Latruan Jedi, that makes me their only choice.

Master Yoda, the ancient, green, diminutive alien must have sensed his thoughts, for he croaked, "Sell yourself short, do not. In the art of negotiation, invaluable, your experience will be."

Demood inclined his head in thanks. "So, what exactly will I need to do?"

Mace explained, "You are to act as an intermediary between the mining companies. Assess the situation, help them come to an agreement, and make sure everyone honors it."

It sounded simple enough. After the fiasco of trying to negotiate an end to the War on Trandosha, a feat that astonished Demood himself, he was confident that he could handle the Latruans. "How long do you expect this mission will take?"

Mace rotated his wrists so that his palms faced upward in a gesture that said, I don't know. "It's hard to say. With an operation this size, it could take years to finalize a deal."

"Although your expediency would be appreciated," added Oppo Rancisis, a reptilian Thisspiasian with a long, serpentine tail.

"Of course, Master," replied Demood. "I would hate to be separated from the Order for so long."

Gratbûr, the capital city of Latru, was the only large settlement on the planet. It had a population of approximately ten thousand people—mostly humans, but with a large number of aliens. Everyone else lived in small towns, villages, or farms scattered across the planet's single continent. The Latruans were not as sophisticated or technologically advanced as people on most Republic worlds, which was reflected in the aesthetic of their clothing, buildings, and machinery. However, they possessed some items that had been imported from other worlds, such as speeders and communication devices, mainly for functional purposes.

As Demood Elppirc strolled down the cobblestone street, his head swiveled back and forth to take in the city of Gratbûr. Two-story buildings made of brick, stone, clay, and wood lined either side of the street. There was nothing particularly special about their design; they were comprised of simple shapes with curved accents and painted in muted colors. Trees and bushes were planted in large plots of dirt, adding vibrant splashes of green to the otherwise dull palette. People in simple clothing walked up and down the street, visiting the various shops and restaurants.

The only thing that did not appear to belong was the royal palace, situated at the rear of the city. It was impossible to miss; it was easily five or six times the height of any other building in Gratbûr, and made entirely of imported materials—mainly durasteel, transparisteel, and golden aurodium. It was an imposing mess of towers and arches and parapets, which clashed with the aesthetic of the surrounding structures. Apparently, King Monad Joisûr had extravagant taste.

Ignoring the eyesore that was the palace, Demood had quickly taken a liking to the city. There was a certain elegance in its simplicity that he found quite appealing. It was far removed from the bustling durasteel ecumenopolis of Coruscant, where one could get overwhelmed by the grandeur of the Republic capital. Gratbûr was peaceful and natural, surrounded by rolling plains, forested mountains, and a rushing river. He took in a deep breath of the clean spring air and sighed contentedly. He had a feeling that he would enjoy it here.

With the street signs as his guide, Demood followed the directions he had been given upon arriving in the city. Much to his surprise, he had been told that his sister had offered to let him live with her and her family during his stay on Latru. He had not known he even had a sister. The prospect of meeting his family for the first time was nerve-wracking. He had lived an entirely separate and wildly different life from everyone else. There was nothing bonding him to his family except for blood. What would they even talk about?

Finally, he arrived at the house he had been directed to. Mustering his courage, he rang the buzzer next to the front door. A moment later, the door slid open to reveal a woman who appeared to be a few years older than Demood. She shared his fair skin, black hair, and brown eyes. He knew that this must have been his sister, Trinniel Esponin. She must have known who he was, too, judging by the shocked expression on her face. For a moment, they just stared at each other, unsure of what to say.

Demood decided to break the ice. "Hi. You must be Trinniel."

The woman nodded. "You must be Demood." She looked him up and down. "I haven't seen you since you were a baby. I'm glad to see things went well for you."

"Thank you," Demood replied. This conversation was even more awkward than he had imagined. "May I come in?" he asked.

"Yes, of course." Trinniel stepped aside to let her brother enter the house. "Welcome to our home."

Once he was inside, Demood set down his suitcase and surveyed his surroundings. The interior of the house was similar to the exterior in its elegant simplicity. The plastcrete walls were painted pale green and decorated with holographic picture frames depicting various people. He wondered if they were more of his relatives. The floor was covered in soft, sand-colored carpet. Straight ahead of him was a hallway leading to other rooms of the house. To his right was a wooden staircase leading to the second floor. And to his left was a sitting room with gray upholstered furniture and a brick-built fireplace set against the far wall. A few wooden toys and stuffed animals littered the floor.

Trinniel sighed and picked up the toys. "I told the girls to put their toys away before you came."

A stocky red-haired man appeared at the opposite end of the hallway and approached Demood with a smile. He held out a hand and introduced himself. "Zandar Esponin. Pleased to meet you."

Demood mirrored his brother-in-law's smile, shook his hand, and responded, "Likewise. Thank you for offering to let me stay. You really didn't have to go to the trouble."

"Oh, it's no trouble, at all," Zandar replied earnestly. "You're family. And family is very important to us."

A loud pattering sound emanated from above them and, a second later, two girls—approximately four and seven years old—bounded down the stairs to meet their visitor. They stopped about halfway down so that they stood at eye level with Demood, looking at him shyly.

Trinniel introduced them. "Pallie, Marja, this is your uncle, Demood Elppirc."

Quietly, both girls said, "Hello."

Demood smiled warmly at his nieces. He had always had a soft spot for children. At the Jedi Temple, he had enjoyed watching younglings learn about the Force and begin their training. Their curiosity and eagerness amused him, and their intelligence never ceased to amaze him. In his opinion, children were smarter and easier to get along with than adults. "Nice to meet you both," he said brightly.

The older girl, Pallie, asked, "Are you a Jedi?"

"Why, yes, I am." Demood smiled as an idea came to him. "Would you two like to see a magic trick?" Intrigued, the girls nodded their heads. He looked around, trying to decide what he could do. He noticed that Trinniel was still holding the toys she had picked up off the floor. Focusing his attention on one of the stuffed animals, he reached out with the Force.

Abruptly, the doll jumped out of Trinniel's arms and landed on the bannister in front of the girls. They gasped in surprise, their mouths hanging open. Demood smiled at their reaction and used the Force to raise one of the doll's arms and move it back and forth, making it appear as though it were waving. The youngest girl, Marja, smiled and waved back at it. Then the stuffed animal rocked from side to side, doing a little dance that made the girls giggle. Then it appeared to slip, land on its rear end, and slide down the bannister. Just as it reached the end, it flew into the air, performed a triple-flip, and landed on its feet. The girls laughed and ran down the steps. As they neared the doll, it glided across the floor, rocking from side to side as though it were running away. Squealing with delight, the girls chased it in circles around the sitting room while the three adults looked on, laughing.

Demood grinned broadly and thought to himself, I'm definitely going to like it here.

Now…

Gratbûr was in ruins. Even in the dead of night, that much was clear. Through her mental link with Ship, Vestara Khai was able to survey the destroyed city from above as they glided through the cold winter air. Though there was not much to see—just piles of stone and charred wood enclosed by a wide river and snow-covered mountains. The Sith's aerial bombardment had been thorough enough that there was no way to tell what the city had looked like before its destruction. Vestara imagined that it could have looked something like Tahv, the capital city of Kesh.

The thought of her home being reduced to a similar state unnerved her. Tahv was full of art and beauty and people; it would be unimaginably tragic if it all should be lost in an enemy attack. That made her wonder what had been lost when the Sith destroyed Gratbûr. Had it been filled with art, as well? Or architectural marvels? And what had the people been like? Had they been shallow or aggressive or selfish? Or had they been peaceful or generous or wise?

What did they do to deserve this?

They were harboring Luke Skywalker, Ship answered, much to Vestara's shock. She had not meant to ask him a question; she had merely been thinking it.

So, the Sith had destroyed an entire city just because of one enemy. It was not unheard of; the Sith had been doing it for millennia. Vestara had done practically the same thing, wiping out entire shiploads of people just so she could claim their ships for the Lost Tribe.

But this was different; this was an entire city with tens of thousands of innocent people. She had never seen destruction at such a large scale before. And, based on what Ship had told her, they had been cut off from the galaxy for decades until Skywalker had arrived the week prior. They had no ships or technology or any resources of note. It followed that, aside from allowing the Jedi Master to stay with them, they had not done anything to deserve the Sith's wrath. They all died for nothing, she mused darkly.

They are not all dead, said Ship, once again hearing her thoughts. The survivors have been conscripted into labor in the Sith's new base just outside the city.

Vestara had been so focused on the city ruins that she had barely paid any attention to the surrounding landscape. Less than a hundred meters from the outskirts of Gratbûr, a complex of prefabricated buildings stood within a dark metal wall lined with bright lamps mounted on tall poles. Through her communion with Ship, she could clearly sense the vast number of lives within the complex. Aside from the Sith, almost all of them were human. Vestara was nearly overpowered by the grief and pain that radiated from them.

Conscripted into labor. Vestara knew full well what Ship had meant by that: slavery. The Sith had destroyed the Latruans' homes and then forced them into slavery, no doubt to contribute to the Sith's war effort. Just like what Ben reported on Dromund Kaas, she realized. It's happening again.

Too late, she remembered that Ship could hear her thoughts, which meant he heard the sadness behind her words. If he had picked up on it, then he would know that she opposed the Sith's practices and questioned her allegiance to them. She fully expected to hear a rebuke from him, but he remained unsettlingly silent. Perhaps he was observing her thoughts and behaviors to report to Darth Hatus. To keep him from gathering more information that might hurt her, Vestara forced herself to keep her opinions out of her mind.

Ship descended to glide low over the city, giving Vestara a closer view of the ruins. She ignored the small voice in her mind that reminded her that innocent people had once lived there. Instead, she focused on steeling herself for her meeting with Hatus—and whatever he had planned for her. The only thing she could do was stand tall, defend herself, and withstand whatever punishment he leveled at her.

They swung around over the city and slowed to a near-stop over the Sith base. As Ship slowly descended, Vestara could now see clearly the Latruan slaves she had sensed earlier. Hundreds of them were visible, being forced to construct the base while Red Sith drove them on. Most of the slaves appeared sick or injured, and many of them were either too young or too old to work effectively. But that did not dissuade the Sith from using their glowing yellow electrowhips on them. Vestara was appalled as she watched one Sith lash a young child repeatedly, causing him to scream and convulse with electrical shocks, while several Latruan bystanders wept.

Hearing about this kind of behavior from Ben Skywalker had been difficult enough; seeing it for herself was almost too much for Vestara to bear.

When they landed, a portal in Ship's wall opened, allowing the heat within him to escape. Vestara shuddered against the sudden blast of cold winter air that enveloped her. Instinctively, she folded her arms across her chest and used each hand to rub her opposite forearm. After drawing on the Force to regulate her body temperature, she placed her feet on the ground and felt snow crunch beneath her boots.

Directly in front of her was a large building that was comprised of approximately twenty interconnected modules. At five stories tall, it towered over the other buildings, suggesting to Vestara that it was where the most important people on the base worked.

Ship confirmed the suspicion that had only just entered her mind. He is waiting for you in his office. Take the turbolift to the top floor.

Vestara did as she was told, walking straight toward the sliding doors at the front of the building, trying hard not to pay attention to the suffering around her. The sliding doors parted as she approached and then sealed shut behind her as she stepped across the threshold. Instantly, she was in a large room filled with computer consoles, holotables, and Sith performing their various tasks.

In addition to the Red Sith, Vestara was surprised to find both human and Keshiri among them. They were her brethren from the Lost Tribe of the Sith. Some of them recognized her but, aside from giving her quick surprised glances, they paid her no mind and continued their work. Do they know what I've been doing this past week? she wondered. What about the Sith on Kesh? How much do my people know about my failures?

She did not pause to dwell on the subject; she simply strode across the room to the turbolifts at the opposite end. Per Ship's instructions, she entered one and rode it to the top level of the building. The door slid open to reveal an antechamber with five doors—two on each side and one opposite the turbolifts. Two Sith warriors flanked the latter. Vestara tentatively approached them, wondering how they would react to her.

They did not. They simply stood by and allowed her to walk past them through the door into the room beyond. It was a modestly furnished office, with a large desk and multiple chairs occupying the center. Three figures were gathered around the desk; two stood in front of it while the third sat behind it, partially obscured by several holographic screens that hovered in front of him above the desk. All three turned to look at her as she entered the room.

She recognized the first man as Darth Sinestro, with slicked-back dark hair, a neatly trimmed beard, and a black cape hanging from his tall frame. The second was a large, bald man in a sleeveless, hooded cloak that revealed his scarred, muscular arms and torso. Vestara assumed that he was Darth Masculous, another of Hatus' apprentices. And the third figure, she identified as Darth Hatus.

She had seen him only once before, on the day Ship had brought him to Kesh. She had been amongst the spectators who had witnessed his victory over Grand Lord Vol, which had secured the allegiance of the Lost Tribe of the Sith. She had been in awe of the powers he had achieved through the Sith orb. Only in her dreams had she ever imagined meeting him face-to-face.

But as she approached him, it became clear that it would not be the same face she had expected. Hatus had been physically transformed into something alien. He stared at her with sunken eyes that glowed red. The sight almost caused her to hesitate, but she forced herself to keep walking toward him, determined not to show any signs of revulsion or fear.

As she drew closer to the desk, she began to make out the images on the holographic screens. She saw large ships falling from the sky, terrified and grief-stricken people, and a column of black smoke rising from a cityscape. Vestara realized that she was looking at footage of the attack on Coruscant. Her gaze fell on one screen that showed a smattering of charred husks of buildings amid a field of gray rubble, and her jaw unintentionally dropped as the scale of the destruction became apparent. At the bottom corner of the screen was a counter that, presumable, displayed the death toll. Before Vestara could read the number, however, all of the screens abruptly switched off, forcing her to focus her attention on the Sith Lord who had been sitting behind them.

Vestara stood about two meters in front of the desk, unsure whether to avoid eye contact with the three Sith Lords or to stare them down as a show of resolve. The debate was rendered academic when a flicker of blue light caught her attention. Next to Hatus, a life-size hologram of a fourth figure had appeared, and Vestara recognized her instantly. It was Darth Volatis, the third of Hatus' apprentices and the reason for Vestara's current predicament. The woman's fair, freckled face, wreathed in flame-red hair, was contorted into a scowl, and piercing emerald eyes glared down at the younger woman.

But Vestara was not cowed. She returned Volatis' hateful expression, not caring whether it got her in trouble. This woman had lied to her, tricked her into doing her own dirty work, and made false promises of power and advancement. She had approached Vestara on Kesh, telling her that Ben Skywalker had sabotaged an innocent manufacturing facility and called in Jedi reinforcements to destroy it and capture its workforce. Volatis had claimed to be looking for a Sith to infiltrate Coruscant and assassinate the Jedi, and that she believed Vestara possessed all of the traits necessary to complete the mission. She had promised to have her promoted to the rank of Sith Saber and put on the fast track to Sith Lady.

I should have known it was too good to be true, Vestara thought bitterly. How stupid was I to believe all of that? In her excitement at the prospect of becoming a Sith Lady, the girl had accepted the mission without question. Once she had met Ben and gotten to know him, however, she soon discovered the truth; the "innocent manufacturing facility" was actually a slave camp, "capture its workforce" actually meant "free its slaves," and the "mission" was really just a personal vendetta against the boy who had defeated Volatis.

And now Vestara was standing in front of four Sith Lords, having failed to kill Ben, been captured by the Jedi, and been played like a toy by a Sith Lady. If I'm going to die because of this, I'm sure as hell going to take Volatis with me. As bloodthirsty as she was, however, she knew there was little chance of her overpowering an experienced Sith, especially without a lightsaber. Plus, she's not really here, she added sourly, remembering that she was staring at a hologram.

Hatus broke the palpable silence. "So, you're Vestara Khai?"

Vestara resisted the impulse to flinch at his unnecessarily loud voice. Then, projecting as much confidence as she could, she answered, "I am, Lord Hatus."

The Sith ruler smirked as he looked her up and down, and she could not shake the feeling that he was undressing her with those unnerving red eyes. Ship's words to her earlier that day echoed in her mind: He recognizes that you may yet be useful to him. She tried hard not to imagine what Hatus was thinking of using her for.

He turned to Volatis' hologram and commented, "I see why you chose her for this mission."

"Yes," Volatis replied flatly. "A mission that she failed."

It took all of Vestara's self-control to prevent her from spiraling into a rage. Volatis had no right to scorn her when she was the one who had set her up to fail. If I can't take her down with me, I can at least let everyone know what a lying snake she is. She opened her mouth to launch her first salvo of insults, but Hatus cut her off.

"Yes," he agreed. "A mission that I did not approve."

It took a moment for his words to register in Vestara's mind, and another moment for her to understand them. Whatever she had been prepared to say to Volatis died on her tongue. Wait, is he mad at her instead of me?

Volatis was clearly just as shocked, for she whirled on her master with bulging eyes. "What?"

"You heard me," Hatus said, his voice calm even as it rose to a yell. Vestara was beginning to wonder how well he could hear. "Did you really think I was going to ignore the fact that you defied my orders and put another Sith's life in jeopardy for your own personal gain?"

"I did nothing like that!" Volatis raged. "Your orders were to stay on Kesh! I'm still here! And it wasn't personal; the boy's death would have been a huge blow to Alliance morale—not to mention vengeance for all the Sith who died on Dromund Kaas!"

"Including yourself?" he asked.

Vestara frowned in confusion. Did he just say she died on Dromund Kaas? But then, how is she here? Her mind went back to the Sith orb in Hatus' possession. Could the orb bring people back from the dead? She promised herself that she would think about that later. At that moment, the altercation between the two Sith was vying for her attention.

"Everything I did, I did for the Sith!" Volatis yelled. "You wouldn't let me do the job myself, so I used the resources available to me!"

"Vestara isn't a resource," Hatus countered. "She's a girl. One who tricked the Jedi into trusting her and infiltrated their holy sanctum unsuspected." He turned to Vestara then and smiled at her. "To hide in plain sight for so long, gathering information, biding her time, that is the mark of a true Sith."

Hearing such praise heaped upon her—by Darth Hatus, the most powerful being in the galaxy and ruler of the Sith, no less—filled Vestara with pride. It was the greatest affirmation of over a decade of dedication and hard work. A true Sith. Lord Hatus thinks of me as a true Sith. Suddenly, all of the fears and doubts that had plagued her for the past week evaporated, and renewed strength seemed to fill the void left behind. She realized, belatedly, that she should probably thank Hatus for the compliment.

But Hatus was not finished yet. "Perhaps you could help me with a problem, Vestara. It recently occurred to me that Lady Volatis will be remaining on Kesh for far longer than I had planned." He paused to give Volatis a dramatic look, to which she responded with an expression of shock and anger. Then he continued, "Which means, I am now short an apprentice."

Vestara's heart nearly burst out of her chest upon hearing the words. Does that mean what I think it means?

"You have proven that you are cunning, powerful, and smart. Beyond that, you have proven that you are fearless and utterly loyal to the Sith. I need people like that by my side, carrying out my will, giving me advice, holding the rest of the Sith Order to the same high standard. I can think of no better person to do that than you."

It's happening! Vestara fought to maintain her composure and keep herself from squealing in delight. She was now thoroughly convinced that the moment she had been striving for for as long as she could remember was at hand. Out of curiosity, she scanned the faces of Hatus' three current apprentices. Masculous appeared dumbfounded, as though the meeting had taken an inexplicable detour. Sinestro had fixed Hatus with a pensive expression, perhaps questioning his master's motives.

And then she looked at Volatis, whose face was shifting in color to match that of her hair. She looked like she was about to burst a capillary—or her entire head. Vestara wanted to laugh, not only at Volatis' outrage, but also at the irony. Her attempt to gain Hatus' favor at the girl's expense had backfired completely. Vestara could not help but smile sardonically at her in triumph. With a snarl, Volatis raised her hands, fingers bent in toward each other, like she desperately wanted to strangle the girl who had upstaged her.

Hatus stood up from his chair and slowly circumnavigated the desk. It struck Vestara as odd that his movements were stiff and delicate, but she was too excited to dwell on it. As though by unspoken command, she knelt before him. He stopped in front of her and asked, "Do you pledge yourself to my teachings?"

Careful to hide the quiver in her voice, she answered, "I do, my lord."

"Do you commit your life to the Sith?"

"I do, my lord."

"And do you swear your loyalty to your new master?"

"I do, my… master."

"Then rise, my apprentice."

Vestara obeyed, practically floating rather than standing. She stared into Hatus' face, willfully ignoring its deformities and focusing instead on the broad smile that stretched across it. Only then did she feel safe enough to drop her composure and allow her excitement to show on her features. "Thank you, Master."

He shook his head. "No. Thank you, Lady Khai."

Lady Khai. Lady Khai. The words echoed within her skull as though it were a grand opera house. Lady Khai. She was a Sith Lady, the youngest in the history of the Lost Tribe! She had bypassed the rank of Sith Saber entirely! She now outranked her own father! She outranked everyone! She was Lady Khai, apprentice to the most powerful Sith Lord in galactic history!

Hatus motioned toward the door through which Vestara had entered. "The guards will show you to your quarters," he said. "If you'll excuse me, I have one last piece of business to take care of." His red eyes seemed to gleam as he spoke. Vestara bowed respectfully to her master and turned to leave the room. As she did so, she heard Hatus continue, "Sinestro, take four guards and fetch Master Skywalker."

Vestara froze at the mention of the name. Master Skywalker? Luke Skywalker? He's here?

Sinestro's voice asked, "Do you wish me to bring him here?"

"No," Hatus answered, a hint of malicious excitement in his voice. "Take him into the city, let him see what his actions have wrought. Bring him to the throne room in the royal palace."

Luke Skywalker is here. Ben's father. The reminder of Ben dampened Vestara's exuberance at her recent promotion. She had almost forgotten about Ben, Dromund Kaas, the attack on Coruscant, and the doubts that had been plaguing her.

That raised another issue. If Hatus had known about Vestara's actions on Coruscant, then he must have also known that her loyalty to the Sith was in question. So, why did he want to take her as an apprentice? Did he plan to win her back over fully to the Sith? Or was he testing her to see if she could still be trusted?

Vestara swept that thought from her mind, focusing instead on her incredible and well-deserved achievement. Whatever Hatus' motives were, she was confident that she would earn his full trust. All she had to do was perform her duties to the best of her abilities. In that moment, she believed that she could do anything.

So, Vestara got exactly what she wanted... right? Her story is about to get even more interesting!

This chapter marks the beginning of the flashback storyline about Demood Elppirc. More scenes will be woven into future chapters, which makes organizing this story much trickier, but I think it will be worth it!

Thank you for reading this Chapter! I plan to post the next chapter in two weeks. If you have any comments or questions, please leave them in your reviews or private messages.