"Happy families are all alike; every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way." -Leo Tolstoy
Before you read, do us both a favor and search up "Malgus in carbonite Fallen Empire deleted scene" on the internet and watch the Malgus cutscenes from the SWTOR cinematic trailer for Knights of the Fallen Empire. The cutscenes are the inspiration for this story. While you're at it, go watch both the cinematic trailers for these chapters of SWTOR—there are two: "Betrayed" and "Sacrifice." They're fun and they will give you the broad strokes of the goings on of the Eternal Empire of the Zakuul, otherwise known as Sith Emperor Darth Vitiate's personal alternative universe.
My stories Taking the Veil, Star-crossed, DARKER, and A Reckoning tell the origins, life and times of Darth Malgus, the unacknowledged crown prince of the Sith empire.
This story was originally published in separate one-shots (Homecoming and The Pact). I have compiled them together to add the concluding chapters.
Chapter 1: Homecoming
Consciousness returns with a rush. Gaius opens his eyes, tenses, and gasps for breath.
Where is he?
What happened?
And why can't he see? Has he been blinded?
The soothing, electronically modulated, gender indeterminate voice of a medic droid addresses the last issue first. "Your eyesight will return in time. You have hibernation sickness."
Hibernation? What the fuck?!
The droid keeps up a steady stream of information. "You are well, Sir. You have no injuries. Your eye muscles are out of practice for focusing and dilation. They will recover in time from the effects of the carbon freezing. Rest quietly please while I go inform the others."
Carbon freezing? And 'others'? None of that sounds good.
"Where am I?" he demands aloud. His voice comes out weak and scratchy. More whisper than command. Apparently, it's not just his eyes that are out of practice.
The droid doesn't answer. It slips out an unseen door that softly whooshes open and shut.
Well, fuck. This is bad. Gaius struggles to sit up on his elbows. Through that effort, he discovers that he is wearing full armor. He's got his respirator mask on as well. Someone wants to make sure he can breathe. That's not necessarily a positive sign, however.
His hand gropes to find his lightsaber hanging at his waist. He's armed, and that's a pleasant surprise. Next, he does an inventory of his hurts. Aside from his blindness, he feels about the same as usual. It's just the familiar aches and pains of a late middle-aged warrior.
He's lying on a cold metal table, not a bed. This must be an infirmary of some kind. The room appears brightly lit because he can sense a subtle difference in his vision when he passes a hand over his eyes. But even blinded, Gaius knows that he is alone. The Force tells him that his near vicinity is devoid of sentient beings right now. Relieved, he begins the deep concentration required to employ the healing techniques of the Dark Side. With enough focused power, he should be able to remedy his eyesight, or at least improve it.
He beckons to the Force, and it rushes to do his bidding. Long practice has made his connection with the energy field that binds the universe nearly effortless. When he's at the top of his game, completely in the zone and immersed in concentration, he doesn't even have to try. It's like the Force anticipates his wishes. And sometimes, when he's really sharp, it feels like the Force tells him what to do before he can form the thought to wish it.
But just now, he is groggy and disoriented. Pushing those distractions aside, he quiets his mind, controls his anxiety, and gets to work. Force healing is mostly a Light Side skill, but the Dark Side has its own version. It's less of a permanent fix and more of a temporary respite. But sometimes that's all he needs to get out of a tough situation to live to fight another day. Pain is power and power controls pain, after all. And since today supposedly he's not actually hurt, this should be quick. Yes . . . he can already sense his eyesight improving. Hit throat feels better too.
Wait! Someone's coming! Gaius quickly settles himself back down in the posture he awoke in. Best to take an enemy by surprise, he plots. Let them think he is asleep, blind, and weak for now.
Seconds later, the door whooshes open and shut. Two people walk in. They are men from their tenor voices and stomping footfalls. Gaius can't place their allegiance based on their accents. The men speak bland Basic. It's neither Sith nor Republic origin to his ears.
"I thought you said he was awake."
"That's what the droid told me."
"Where is that droid? Shouldn't it be here to monitor things? What if he dies on us?"
"Do we care?"
"I don't know. Do you? Did you find out who he is?"
"Mother knows, but she's not telling. All I know is he's Sith."
"Yeah, look at that armor. Definitely Sith, even if he's not red. Damn, this dude is huge. Look at those boots. What did Mother say?"
"She's worried how Father will react to him."
"Father knows him personally?"
"She seems to think so."
"So, he's an enemy?"
"I guess. If he's Sith, he's got to be an enemy."
"Fuck, Thex, I have a bad feeling about this."
"Me too. So does Mother, but she won't say why."
"Why are we letting him keep his weapon? That's stupid." The speaker summons the Force—Fuck! The guy has the Force!—to pluck the saber from his waist.
He's no fool. Gaius resists, but with the Force, of course. He continues laying still with his eyes closed making no movement save for breathing.
"What the Hell? Gimme that sword." The man tries again. Harder.
But the door whooshes open and shut again to disrupt him. Someone new walks in. This time, it's a woman. Gaius can tell from the subtle waft of perfume.
"Is he awake?" she asks, sounding worried.
"The droid says yes."
"He doesn't look awake." The woman approaches close now. Gaius can sense her lean in to look him over. "That respirator covers a lot of his face," she comments.
"Don't take it off. I think he needs it. He was frozen wearing it."
"I see. Too bad. I can't see what he looks like."
"He's huge, bald, and pale, Mom."
"Yes, that much I can see."
"What are you looking for?"
"A resemblance. Arcann, go fetch your father."
The man called Arcann must leave to fulfill this request because the door whooshes open and shut yet again.
The remaining man now asks, "What's going on? Who is this guy? Father looked ready to choke when he saw who was frozen in the slab."
"He's a man from your father's past."
"Yes, we know he's Sith. But we've brought home plenty of captives for Father to do his midichlorian experiments on and he's never reacted like this. Mother, who is this guy?"
The woman doesn't answer.
"I know you know but you're not telling. Look, Father has been locked in his chamber meditating since he ordered this guy thawed out. I know what he's doing. He's summoning his full power—for this guy! Who is he?"
"I'll let your father tell you when he gets here. Why is he armed? Take his saber."
And now again, Gaius feels someone tug at his sword hilt with the Force. Again, he resists.
"What the Hell?" the man complains. He tries harder. And then harder still. But to no avail. Gaius easily out classes him on power. Frustrated, the bewildered man stomps over to yank the saber with his bare hands. That doesn't work either. He tugs but the Force holds the weapon firmly in place.
"What the Hell?" the man complains once more.
But just then, the door whooshes open and the one called Arcann returns. He's speaking as he walks through the door.
"—according to the droid, but he doesn't seem to be awake—"
"He's awake."
That last comment is a new voice. A deeper, older male voice. But Gaius can only sense three people in the room with him. Did the woman slip out? No, she did not. And that realization sends a chill down his spine even as the Force screams danger to his mind and his senses automatically heighten.
There are very few people who know the technique to cloak their Force imprint so completely. And as far as Gaius knows, all of those people are Sith Lords. In fact, they are the most powerful of the Sith Lords.
Fuck. This is not good. Gaius is not a popular fellow back home.
"He doesn't look awake," the younger man persists.
"He's awake," the deep voice repeats, sounding annoyed that no one else present can realize it.
The next thing Gaius knows, a lightsaber ignites and comes slashing fast for his neck.
But Gaius is fast too. The ruse is up. He's busted and there's no point in pretending any longer.
His own sword leaps from his waist to his hand and ignites to make the split-second block. He opens his eyes to find a golden yellow blade humming inches from his neck. It's held back by his own red blade in a contest of strength.
Who is his attacker? It's none other than the man the whole Empire is looking for. It's the notorious reclusive Sith Emperor, Dark Lord Vitiate, who disappeared years ago. Reportedly, he abandoned his people to fend for themselves. Running away is a habit the man has. For long ago, when Gaius was an infant, the Dark Lord—his secret biological father—abandoned him as well.
"YOU!" Gaius snarls as he Force-pushes the threatening blade away and launches himself off the table. He's on his feet now, a lit sword buzzing in his hand and the Force flowing through his veins, as he surveys the room.
He's standing in a utilitarian-looking infirmary. It's crowded with people. There's the Dark Lord, who's strangely dressed like some conquered colonial potentate. He's sporting ugly white armor trimmed in gold and silver. But otherwise, he looks much the same as Gaius remembers from their prior in-person meetings. Tall, broad shouldered, with a leonine head of silvering light brown hair and a full set of whiskers to match. Darth Vitiate appears to be in late middle age, but in reality he's well over a millennia in years. As far as Gaius is concerned, that makes him the galaxy's oldest and worst villain.
Then there's two young men in their twenties standing side by side. They're dressed as warriors with closely cropped hair. Brothers? No, twins. They appear strikingly similar. As Gaius' eyes flit over the pair, they ignite their own golden lightsabers and pose ready to join the fray.
Not to be outdone, the woman—presumably their mother—lights her own blade. Hers is blue but she doesn't look like any Jedi Gaius has ever seen. She too is dressed as a warrior in the colors of her people, her auburn hair scraped back tightly from her unremarkable features. Whoever she is, she wears an expression that means business.
This fight will be four-on-one, Gaius surmises. His ruthlessly strategic mind starts analyzing escape routes and tactics. He can get to the door behind those twin sons if he throws his saber and they dive out of the way. Some Force speed ought to do it, if he can stun the woman with his power so she can't take a swipe at him. But what about Vitiate? That guy's the wild card who Gaius doesn't know how to play. Everyone who's ever opposed him has failed.
The Dark Lord smirks openly at his predicament. "Miss me?" he jeers. Then he switches off the weapon he holds and casually tosses it to one of the twins. His sons? Could Vitiate be the 'Father' everyone has been referring to?
The rest of the family now follows Vitiate's lead. Everyone deactivates their weapons. But each keeps their thumb on the ignition switch of their hilt, Gaius notices. They might be standing down, but no one is taking any chances.
Neither is he. Gaius keeps his own sword lit. With eyes trained on Vitiate, he speaks slowly, "The whole Empire is looking for you."
"You found me," his nemesis answers wryly. "Or, perhaps I should say, I found you."
"Where am I?"
"This is Zakuul."
"The Eternal Empire . . . "
Vitiate nods. "I am Valkorian here."
"You're Valkorion? You?"
"Yes."
"You're the Eternal Emperor?"
"Yes."
"So, you're not in exile . . . you weren't captured . . . "
"No."
"You really did abandon us . . . "
Vitiate shrugs. "It was time."
His nonchalance grates and Gaius doesn't bother to hide it. "You abandoned us and then you betrayed us!" he accuses. "You're making war on your own people now . . . " Gaius digests this news with growing contempt. "I should have guessed," he hisses. "Treachery is your hallmark."
Vitiate—Valkorian—whoever he really is—is wholly unbothered by the situation. "It is time for the Sith to end," he offers, as if that's some sort of explanation.
"You have turned on your own people!" Gaius snarls.
"They did not survive a test of strength. Only the strong survive. Any proper Sith would agree with that justice, as you well know," Vitiate drawls.
"Who are they?" Gaius gestures to the others.
"Meet Arcann and Thexan, the twin princes of the Zakuul. They are," Vitiate slides sly yellow eyes his way to gauge his reaction, "your half-brothers."
His half-brothers. Yes, his guess was right. Vitiate is the 'Father.' He's not only found a replacement empire, but he's found a replacement family as well.
For their part, the pair of princes look shocked by the reveal.
Their mother, Gaius notes, does not.
"Boys," Vitiate nods at the young men, "this is Gaius Veradun, Darth Malgus."
"Wait—he's Malgus?" one twin blinks.
The other gapes. "Darth Malgus is our brother?"
Gaius can't resist a smirk. "I take it you've heard of me."
The twin on the right looks him up and down and nods. "That's right. We studied your loss at Alderaan."
Ouch. That's a reminder he doesn't care for. Malgus now glares in the direction of Vitiate. "You mean the battle in which he tipped off the enemy that I was coming?"
"He left that part out," the twin on the right admits softly.
Ignoring the exchange, Vitiate crosses his arms and declares, "Boys, welcome home my firstborn, the secret crown prince of the Sith."
Are those words mocking? Gaius isn't sure. He stares Vitiate down with icy contempt. "This is not my home, and you are not my father. Not in any way that matters . . . " He refuses to be considered complicit with the turncoat Sith Emperor. "How long," he demands, "have you been plotting to turn on your own kind?" He gestures at the twin brothers and sneers, "How long have you been grooming these invaders?"
His host shrugs. "I began looking for an exit strategy from the Sith Empire long ago."
"Why?"
"Boredom."
The glibness is chilling. "Because absolute power, universal adulation, and blind loyalty weren't enough for you?" Gaius hisses.
And now, the conversation starts to get very bizarre as Vitiate casually remarks, "There are longstanding structural problems with the Sith Empire. The whole platform is flawed. The longer I ruled, the more fundamental problems I identified."
He says this criticism like a detached observer, like an academic analyst and not the authoritarian ruler who controls everything. "You had the power to fix it."
"Launch my own revolution? No, it wasn't worth the effort," the runaway Dark Lord dismisses the idea. "I decided it was best to start over. That's what Zakuul represents—a fresh start. I would like it to be a fresh start for you and me as well."
Gaius squints at Vitiate. Is he serious? He can't tell. He might be. And that's preposterous. "You've got to be kidding me . . . Do you really think me such a fool?"
"Of course, not. If you were a fool, you'd be dead, my boy. Why would I even bother with you? Malgus, I'm giving you a great opportunity. The Eternal Empire presents a lot of intriguing possibilities—"
"Get to the point. You want me to join in your treason? Is that it?"
Vitiate looks him in the eye. Yellow eyes meet yellow eyes and linger. "I wish to make amends," he answers simply.
Gaius scoffs. "Have you forgotten that I've heard this pitch before? I already turned you down."
"You're getting a rare second chance. Hear me out because there won't be a third."
Gaius doesn't believe that line for a moment. Because it's clear that Darth Vitiate wants something from him and he wants it badly. And that, he reckons, gives him some advantage. "I'm listening."
Vitiate looks pointedly at his lit and buzzing saber. "Turn it off and let's talk like family. We are not enemies."
That's debatable. Still, Gaius extinguishes his blade. But he keeps his thumb on the ignition switch just like everyone else in the room.
"It's simple, really. Join me and we can rule the galaxy as father and son."
Gaius glances over at the young twin warriors standing with their mother. They sure don't look happy about that offer.
"I know all the weaknesses of the Sith Empire and all the major players. It will be easy to conquer the Sith. And you, my son, know how to conquer the Republic. You nearly did it singlehandedly despite all the obstacles I put in your way."
Yes, Gaius seethes, he would have conquered the Republic, but for this man. It's been years since the Battle of Coruscant, but it's still a sore subject. "You already had the chance to rule it all! Coruscant was in the palm of your hand, and you threw it away! You cast victory aside because it was more important that I lose than it was for you to win!"
He fumes at Vitiate, who meets his gaze steadily. If he's repentant, it sure doesn't show.
"And then," Gaius rages, "after you had done your damage, you walked away! You left behind the wreckage you made of your own Empire and simply abdicated into exile because," he sniffs, "you were BORED." His voice fairly drips with contempt, for such is his indignation at his people's treatment at the hands of their longtime leader.
"Not a word to anyone. Not a succession plan. Not an orderly transition of authority. No preordained chain of command. You caused chaos and you knew it! We Sith fight each other now more than the Republic!" Gaius glances again at the two sons and their mother—who Vitiate didn't even bother to introduce, he notes. "That's what he does," Gaius speaks his truth to whoever these people are. Jabbing a gloved finger at his biological father, he denounces him. "He ruins things."
For a long, tense moment, no one says anything. Gaius knows he has scored a hit.
But his opponent rallies more excuses. "The Sith Empire had reached its zenith. It was poised for decline. I was ready to move on and give someone else a chance."
"Yes," Gaius huffs, "because it's always about you and what you want, isn't it?" Addressing the mother-son trio, he repeats his indictment. "He ruins things."
Vitiate lets the disdain roll off his back. He keeps making his pitch. "This is a fresh start. A new beginning. I want you to join me. Hear me out."
Gaius shakes his head. "The answer is no," he says with slow finality.
His foe now shifts strategies. He starts in on the mea culpas. They are awkward coming off Vitiate's lips. The man is testy and sheepish, no doubt because his experience with apologies is limited. "I was wrong to abandon you. I was wrong not to train you. I see that now-"
"You mean you see how powerful I have become, and it scares you."
"You don't scare me," the Emperor-in-hiding snaps back.
"All the same, you need my help," Gaius retorts a little triumphantly.
"I want your help, but I don't need it. Now, stop whining and let's talk power like men. Together, we could rule the galaxy as father and son."
"I'll never join you!"
"Why not?" comes Darth Vitiate's genuinely puzzled sounding reply. It's clear that he fails to see why his offer does not impress.
"You're a terrible leader, but you're an even worse person," Gaius begins.
The twin sons opposite him have begun to visibly bristle. One of them growls under his breath, "Father, you don't have to listen to this—"
Vitiate waves him quiet. "Malgus is a hothead. Everyone knows that. Boys, this is your big brother acting pouty and aggrieved like usual. Get used to it. He's always like this. It's why no one likes him."
Turning back to Gaius, the abdicating Dark Lord wonders aloud, "So . . . you're turning me down. And then, what? You're going to spend out your days reorganizing my old Empire so you can oppose us? Maybe chasing down alien Force relics and conflicted Jedi in your spare time on random side quests for knowledge? That's a waste of your time. I have all the knowledge of the Force that you could ever need. I will share it with you. What are you laughing at?"
"At you," Gaius smirks. "At the thought of you sharing anything with anyone, let alone power. Besides, you don't have the knowledge I seek to solve the problem that plagues the galaxy."
"What problem?" Vitiate looks to him for an explanation. "Is it the Jedi? Poverty? Apathy? Which vice is your current crusade, son?" He rolls his eyes and sighs, "You've been a veritable Darth Reformer for decades now. Tell me, what is the latest great threat to people everywhere?"
"You."
"What?" Vitiate looks like perhaps he has misheard.
So, Gaius restates it plainly. "You are the problem that plagues the galaxy—YOU! I might not be able to kill you, but I will find a way to contain you."
His smirking nemesis seems to find this prospect amusing. "Many have tried," he brags.
Annoyed, Gaius addresses his increasingly hostile looking half-brothers. "Are you two getting this? He creates and he destroys. He has no creed, no purpose, no goal other than himself. You might be his blood, but you're his tool, like all the rest. He will build you up and then tear you down, like he does his empires. Nothing matters to him other than power. He would betray either of you in a heartbeat."
"You lie!" one twin snarls, stepping forward.
Gaius looks to Vitiate pointedly. "Do I lie?" he demands.
"You are correct that power is paramount, Lord Malgus. But the rest really depends on your point of view. A great deal of the truths we cling to depend greatly on your point of view. And as a mostly loyal Lord of the Sith, Lord Malgus has a definite point of view on my actions, as we have just heard. Boys," Vitiate orders to the visibly upset twins, "leave us. Take your mother with you," he dismisses the nameless woman too. She's clearly an afterthought. "Lord Malgus and I should speak in private."
The trio dutifully troop out, and now Gaius is alone facing the man who has disappointed him time and time again.
Incredibly, Darth Vitiate is beaming at him. "Well, that was a good argument," he declares. "I haven't had a good argument in years. This place is far too subservient. That's one thing I could always count on from the Sith—some pushback. Here, it's all 'yes, Excellency' ad nauseum . . . " If the absent Dark Lord finds any irony in lapsing into Old Sith for that comment, he doesn't show it. He gushes, "I am happy to see you. I wasn't expecting to see you. That tells me that our meeting is the will of the Force."
Gaius just grunts.
"How did you manage to get yourself frozen in carbonite? You don't see that sort of exotic capture every day."
"It's a long story."
"Is it a good one?"
"Not really. It was more accident than capture."
"I figured as much. Who would freeze you if they could kill you? But you're pretty hard to kill, so I thought perhaps it was the next best thing to killing you." Vitiate looks him over. "You look pretty recovered."
"I'm fine. How long was I frozen?"
"Six years."
Gaius gulps. "What's happened?"
"Mostly war. Arcann and Thexan are making war on the Republic and the Sith Empire for me. They are good boys, merely adequate in abilities but determined to please."
"They are young." Not yet thirty, Gaius judges.
"True, but the potential just isn't there." Darth Vitiate shakes his head ruefully. "The Force is not with them, I fear. And that is where you come in. What I need is a man of your experience and insight."
Gaius shakes his head no. Has he not made himself clear? "I'll never join you."
But his host is not a man used to hearing 'no.' "Now, don't be so hasty," Vitiate cajoles. "For your mother's sake, hear me out. She would have wanted us to reconcile. She was quite determined that I give you the birthright you deserved."
It's the wrong thing to say. Gaius fumes harder now.
"I failed her . . . and I failed you . . . You must let me atone."
Gaius crosses his arms and glares. "Save your breath."
Ignoring this, Vitiate now invites, "What do you know of your mother? Let me show you your mother the way I remember her." And then, with a wave of his wrist he conjures an image floating in the air. It's something like a hologram projection, like a recorded transmission. Except it's not. It's more akin to a shared Force vision, as far as Gaius can tell.
"I don't care," he lies, turning his head. He doesn't want to see this. But, of course, he has to look.
He sees a group of veiled women exit a doorway into a sunny garden green space. One by one, they snatch off their concealing garments and cast them in a pile on the grass before they begin to enjoy the sunshine. The last woman out the door is a towering, stately figure, not a young girl like the rest. She pauses on the threshold. She doesn't yank off her veil, she lifts it back to reveal white pale skin, slashing dark brows, and painted red lips. Then she looks straight at him and flashes a dazzling smile. And that's when Gaius realizes that what he's seeing is Vitiate's personal memory. In the long-ago reminiscence, his mother is beaming at her Dark Lord lover.
She's not young. That's his first impression. Somehow, Gaius had always imagined that his mother was some impressionable young thing. A pretty girl barely out of her teens who angered her family and got sent to the Temple. Maybe his grandfather was the harsh, overreacting type. Or maybe she was falsely misjudged. But Gaius instinctively assumed that his anonymous tragic mother started out as a victim of circumstance who ended up a victim of Darth Vitiate.
But this is a mature woman. Late thirties, at least. Maybe even early forties. She looks composed and in charge. Like someone who acts more than she is acted upon.
"She was forty-one when you were born," Vitiate volunteers. "She was already a wife and mother when she came to me."
The memory shifts and now Gaius sees a memory of his mother striding through a hallway. She's wearing a gorgeous black dress with a cape the billows majestically behind her. This time, there is no concealing veil. Gaius can clearly see her golden blonde hair that he inherited. It is coiled in a large chignon at the nape of her neck. It's a simple style that echoes the grave elegance of her dress.
She looks like him. Or rather, he looks like her. The towering height that commands attention . . . the light eyes and light hair that belong more to a colonial nobody than an aristocratic Sith Lady . . . the long neck, high cheekbones, and sharp jawline that seem at odds with her broad, hyper curvy figure . . . This woman isn't fat so much as she is plain big. An unknown Sith Lord walks up to intercept her now and he only reaches the top of her shoulder. She nods at the Lord but coolly breezes by him. Mama, Gaius realizes, stalks through the Imperial Palace like she owns the place. She has undeniable presence.
"I was lost without her," Vitiate glumly offers.
Gaius jeers back, "You mean after you killed her?"
"Who told you that?"
"Azamin." On his deathbed, the wizened little Lord had told him the truth of his parents' ill-fated love affair and confessed his own role in the conspiracy. Then, he urged Gaius to forgive his estranged Emperor father. There's good in him . . . I've felt it, old Darth Azamin had wheezed out. But Gaius had chalked it up to the hopeful ravings of a dying man.
Did Vitiate know of Azamin's confession? His host looks surprised. "So, he told you . . . Did Cornelius also tell you that I brought her back?"
"Yes, and that she killed herself."
"I was so angry with her for that."
From the look on his face, Vitiate is still angry. He sighs and for the first time, his brash confidence deflates. In a quiet voice, he confesses, "I punished you because there was no one else left to hate for it. I knew that she would do anything for you, so I made sure to oppose you at every turn. I wanted you to be as wretched as I felt. It was payback for her mistakes that you did not deserve. And it didn't work. Every obstacle I put in your way, you overcame."
"Oh, it worked," Gaius assures him. For decades, Darth Vitiate has dogged him. Undermined him. Actively sought to destroy him. Even as he mostly ignored him from afar.
"I feared you as a rival, and that was silly . . . you could never rival me," his old Emperor sniffs. He truly does look miserable as he confesses his sins. "I threw you away for fear of a future that would never come. It was wrong of me. Luckily, Cornelius was in the background saving us both from my bad decisions." Vitiate glances to the Force-conjured vision of his long dead lover and waves it away angrily. With a deep breath, he reasserts, "I wish to atone for that now."
Is he sincere? Or is this just another insidious lure to manipulate him? Can Darth Vitiate feel remorse? Gaius decides that it doesn't matter. This speech might have impressed him if it were given the first time they met, but not now. "It's too late."
"It's never too late."
So says the guy with an infinite lifespan who has time to burn . . . "It's too late." He's long grown, and he doesn't want another Master, least of all one he doesn't respect. "Nothing has changed since you told me the truth."
"Is that so?" Vitiate raises an eyebrow at this claim. "You put yourself on my empty throne. The prodigal son walks away from what I offer him and returns to take it for his own. I enjoyed watching as you sought to become me. You will never equal me, but I honor you for trying."
Gaius had an entirely different motivation for his actions. "I was seeking to clean up the mess you left behind! I was trying to bring order to the Empire." He slants his deadbeat dad a sideways glance and hisses, "You never crossed my mind."
"Liar," Vitiate chides mildly. He's smiling. "I've seen it before. One of the ironies of fate is how many seething heroes ultimately end up becoming the very thing they sought to destroy. Admit it—you have a long list of enemies, but I am the enduring antagonist of your life. So, let us stop stalking one another and team up."
Hell no. Never. "You have nothing that I want."
Vitiate starts bragging now. "I have grown more powerful. I am more powerful than you can possibly imagine."
"I don't care." Power has never brought him happiness.
"Even if it could give you Eleena Daru back?"
Eleena Daru.
Gaius sucks in a breath at the mention of that name. He reflexively looks away as he blinks fast and swallows the flood of emotions it brings. All these years later, he is still weak for his lost love. Still, he refuses to be baited. "She's dead." His Eleena is dead and long buried. There's no body left for Darth Vitiate to resurrect, if that's where this offer is going.
It is. With a sly leer, the longtime Sith wizard purrs, "No one's ever really gone."
"She is." Eleena is gone and he has accepted his loss. Her death was the beginning of the end of his military career and a moment of clarity that led to his profound disillusionment. Some of that is Darth Vitiate's fault, but not all of it. Still, the point remains that Gaius is not the same man she loved. He wants entirely different things now.
But his old Emperor doesn't seem to understand that. Like a sly devil, he tries to tempt him. "I am now able to resurrect a person without a body. I can manifest them from the Force alone. It's not a form of projection—I'm not talking about a Force ghost, mind you. I'm talking about bringing someone back body and soul from nothing."
Gaius has no doubt that what Darth Vitiate claims is true. As crazy as his boasts sound, there is nothing exaggerated about the man's power.
"It's a good trick, no?"
Gaius isn't so sure. His first reaction to the idea is horror. "Let the dead sleep in the Force. They are at peace."
"Peace is a lie," Vitiate quotes him the Sith Code. It's annoying since the man currently disdains the Sith culture he personally shaped for a over millennium. "Peace is a lie, and you know it, Lord Malgus."
Does he know that? No, he doesn't. As a younger man, Gaius was certain he knew all the answers. But in maturity, he is far less sure of what he believes and why. By now, he's encountered too many Jedi who impressed him to discount the Light Side entirely. Plus, he's spent too many decades a Sith Lord not to realize a few shortcomings about the Shadow Force. Peace isn't exactly a lie . . . it's just very, very hard to make and even harder to keep. But that might make it very precious. Peace isn't a lie, so much as it is elusive.
Vitiate must be sensing that his offer isn't going over well. He isn't demanding allegiance upfront. "How about I give her back to you as a gesture of goodwill?"
"You would only use her to control me."
"We'd be a family."
That's the last thing Gaius wants. He heads for the door lest he be tempted. Thankfully, it opens, and he strides out into a hallway where his half-brothers and their mother await.
Vitiate follows him. "Where are you going?"
"I'm leaving. But I'll be back. I will see you punished," Gaius vows. And, yet again, the twin brothers start to bristle and posture on behalf of their sire.
But far from looking troubled, their father is pleased. "Is that a promise?" Vitiate grins. Closing his eyes, he approves, "I feel your hate. Oh, how you hate me . . . "
Gaius nods slowly. "There will be a reckoning." This man might have schemed to make certain that he is remembered as an obscure footnote in history, but all the same, Gaius will make his mark on the galaxy. He started out wanting to be a hero of the Sith, but now he's angling to be the hero for both sides of the Force. The best, most important thing he can do for posterity—the only glory that really matters-is to rid the galaxy of Darth Vitiate.
The twins now look truly alarmed. One yelps, "Father, kill him! Kill him now!"
Vitiate declines, and Gaius starts walking away before the man can change his mind.
Vitiate calls after him, "Where are you going?"
He stops, half turns, and admits the truth of his quest. It was important six years ago, but the task takes on new urgency now. "I'm going to find the strongest Jedi left."
"The Jedi are all dead," jeers one of the twins. "We killed them."
"You will never destroy the Light Side entirely," Gaius informs him. "I'm going to find the strongest Jedi left and together we will see you punished," he announces to Vitiate.
"You? Ally with a Jedi? Darth Malgus who slew an entire temple full of their best knights on Coruscant? A man so Dark and so angry that his power creates ripples in the cosmos?" Darth Vitiate chuckles at the thought. "No Jedi will ever ally with you."
"You underestimate me."
"I hope so." His yellow eyes glittering, Vitiate dismisses him. "Go! Take a ship from the landing pad and do your worst."
"But Father!" One of the twins objects. He steps forward into Gaius' path and lights his sword as challenge.
Vitiate responds with a bolt of Force lightning. It nails the kid, sending him hard into the far wall with a nasty sounding thud upon impact. His sword deactivates and clatters harmlessly to the floor. It's vicious discipline, but neither the brother nor the mother seems to find it unusual. Their lack of reaction is telling.
Gaius turns to address the scowling, pouting twin who is still standing. "When you two are ready to break free, come find me. I will help you," he offers, bewildering the young man who like his twin clearly sees him as a threat.
Turning back to Vitiate, Gaius shakes his head and complains, "Why does the Force let you persist? Why do you still live?" Vitiate has been the apex predator of the Dark Side for well over a thousand years, and why?
Vitiate's reply is smug: "I am the Force."
"No, you're not." Throwing one last withering glance over his shoulder, Gaius warns, "Careful with that hubris." Then, he stalks off.
Where is the landing pad? Gaius is lost in the unfamiliar fortress stronghold. He wanders down empty hallways until he finds his way outside. There, he finds guards waiting for him with weapons drawn. Naturally, Vitiate won't make it easy for him to leave. Well, no matter. Gaius summarily snaps their necks with the Force before any of them can get a shot off. These days, it takes far more than twelve Force-blind thugs to slow Darth Malgus down.
As the combatants fall en masse, up strides the woman from the infirmary. She's the twins' mother. The one person who clearly has influence who Gaius hasn't actually been introduced to.
Is she going to fight him? Gaius hopes not. Killing Vitiate's mistress or wife or whatever she is will just needlessly complicate matters. He really has no fight with this woman or her sons. So, he declines to light his sword. Gaius will not be the one to provoke violence between them.
He gives the woman a good look. After seeing his mother in Vitiate's memories, this woman seems like an unusual choice for her substitute. This woman's face is pleasant enough looking, with clear skin and brown hair. She's somewhere in early middle age and the years have been kind to her. But she strikes Gaius as the physical opposite of his own mother. Lady Struct was a tall, blonde bombshell of exaggerated female curves with a face that might have launched a thousand dreadnoughts. There wasn't a sharp angle on her anywhere, unlike the bland-faced, lithe warrior woman who currently confronts him.
"Yes?" Gaius invites her to speak.
"The Emperor is sincere in his wish to reconcile," she begins. She starts to plead his case. "If you know him, you know that he is a proud man—"
"My Lady," Gaius preempts her show of loyalty. "The offer I gave your sons applies for you as well. When you are ready to break free, come find me. I will help you, like I will help your boys."
She bristles. "I will never betray my Emperor!"
"Sure, you will," Gaius counters easily. "Because by the time he's done pitting your children against one another, toying with them and manipulating them, you'll know what I know: that he ruins everything he touches." Gaius now realizes aloud, "His power is a curse, only he can't see it." For his part, Gaius can't help but to pity the earnest woman who confronts him. "For your sake," he tells her, "I hope you don't love that monster."
The woman makes no reply. She just stares at him bleakly.
Stepping past her, Gaius selects the largest shuttle waiting on the landing platform and takes off. He will leave behind Zakuul, its treacherous Emperor, and its unhappy Imperial family that he wants no part of.
Gaius's stolen ship has climbed into the upper atmosphere when up walks the erstwhile Darth Vitiate and his two princelings to join their mother on the landing platform.
While the twins inspect the carnage of a dozen guards, their father ignores the body count. "Is he away?"
The woman confirms, "He's gone."
"Good. May the Force be with him."
"Father, why didn't you kill him?" one twin whines. "Why let him escape?"
His sire whirls on him. "I will never kill him. Never! He is my greatest creation." With withering contempt, he adds, "Malgus is a son I can be proud of."
"Father, we don't understand . . . " the other twin now complains.
His father answers with Force lightning that sends both young men flying. He surveys one disappointing kid and then the other as they lay sprawling. Then, he declares, "Neither of you will ever be him. You are nothing compared to him. Just like you will never be her," he adds with a dissatisfied glare at their mother.
THE END