Chapter 6: The Fall
What mystical place is this?
As soon as Gaius steps through the portal, he finds himself alone walking along a dim path lit by distant starlight. Is he literally walking through space? Could this path be the arc of time? He's curious, but not overly so, since he suspects that like before he will emerge remembering nothing about the hidden mysteries of the Cosmic Force. Whatever truths he sleuths out will be lost to him. And maybe that's how it should be. Perhaps it's not wise for mere mortals to know too much about the divine.
Where is Vitiate? If he's not here, he must be on a different path. Is that a good thing? Gaius isn't sure.
There is very little known about this special place the Jedi call the World Between Worlds and ancient Sith sorcerers originally termed Purgatorio. Few firsthand accounts of others' experiences have been passed down. Chiefly, he suspects, because he's not the only person for whom a journey into the Force becomes a lost memory. From what scant teaching exists, he has gleaned that each person's experience is unique. When you meet your maker, it's all about what you as an individual bring into it—what your experiences and life choices have been—what your connections are to other people and to fateful events. For this is reputedly a place of judgement. Because the Dark Side, naturally, believes the Force to be a wrathful god of punishment.
Will he be punished?
Might he be rewarded?
How will destiny view him?
The last time Gaius entered a portal, he ended up back where he began. The experience was frightening, but not life changing. In the end, things carried on as before. That's basically what Vitiate himself had described. It makes Gaius wonder if he and Vitiate will have separate experiences and then wake up side by side back in their reality with their conflicts as ripe and unresolved as ever.
If so, what then?
Please, Force, he prays fervently, put an end to Vitiate's tyranny and emotional blackmail. He wants to be free of this pain. He wants the galaxy to have a chance to move on as well.
"Gaius . . ." It's his name spoken softly by an unknown woman's breathy voice. There have always been women in his life, but this isn't one he recognizes. "Gaius . . . don't cry. Go to sleep. We both need to sleep . . . "
He stops walking and whirls, looking for the speaker. But he's alone still. There's no one here with him.
"I will do everything I can to protect you," the woman's voice echoes again through his mind. "I will take the blame . . ." She sounds so resigned. There is dread in her tone.
Who is talking? What does this mean? Again, Gaius whirls in confusion. And that's when he perceives that the pathway he's taking branches out in different directions. Taking the turn to the right, he comes upon a screen. No, it's not a screen. It looks like a window into another place and a different time.
Peering through it, Gaius sees what should be a sweet domestic scene. There's a woman sprawled in a lounge chair in a dim nursery. A fussy newborn baby twists and mews high on her shoulder. That must be him, for the exhausted looking woman is unmistakably his mother. Look at that curtain of long blonde hair that winds over her other shoulder. Her face is white pale like his, which makes her startlingly provincial looking for highborn Sith lady. Either that, or she is the rare modern day aristocrat who is full of exiled Dark Jedi ancestry. She strokes her baby and presses a kiss into his head. Her murmuring words once more filter through Gaius' mind.
"You can help him . . . You are meant to help him. In time, I hope he will see that. I'm sure you were born for a reason. They say the Force makes no mistakes."
The baby keeps wailing. The days old infant has been born strong—too strong—with the Force. He's brand new to life and doesn't yet know how to process his own feelings, let alone the feelings of others that his latent power allows him to instinctively sense. The little baby—it's him, it has to be him—keeps absorbing his mother's complicated adult emotions. They overwhelm him. So he cries and cries inconsolably.
A newcomer appears on the threshold of the nursery's open doorway. It's a man who's not Darth Vitiate. He's annoyed. "Has he been fed? If he's fed, put him down and let him cry it out. You coddle him. It will spoil him."
That's typical Sith tough love childrearing. There isn't a lot comforting, even for the young of the Dark Side's ruling class.
His mother nods and defers, "Of course."
"Shut the door so we don't hear him. I've got a big day tomorrow."
"I'll be right in. Just let me get him settled."
The man grunts and walks away, muttering, "We're too old for this."
His mother now slowly lumbers to her feet, cradling her precious burden. She crosses the room to lay her baby down in a crib, careful to reposition his blankets. As the infant continues to fret, she pulls back to watch him. And that's when Gaius gets his first full look at his mother's face. The resemblance is uncanny.
Unseen eavesdropper Gaius now understands why the baby continues to melt down. For his mother, while outwardly composed, is herself utterly distraught. She's a doomed woman, and she clearly knows it. It's possible she has even foreseen it. Unfortunately, she can't keep her awful knowledge from resonating through the Force. The man who complained to her from the doorway was either too weak to sense it, or he didn't care. But her baby does.
"I'll come back," his mother promises the thrashing infant. "Once he's asleep, I'll come back and sit with you. Know that I will be with you always, whether you see me or not."
Grown-up Gaius now backs away from the scene. He flees from the heartbreaking sound of his own baby self crying. Did this moment actually happen? Is it the true past? Or is this a timeline that fate did not take? There's no way to be sure. Maybe it doesn't matter. If it's the past, it cannot be changed. He can only accept it and move forward.
It's with that thought in mind that troubled Gaius stumbles towards a new vantage point into the long ago past. He doesn't really know where he's heading. He just wants to get away from where he was.
Wait. He knows this place. It's Vitiate's throne room at the Sith Imperial Palace on Dromund Kaas. The room is kept dark except for the single shaft of light that illuminates the center spot where Lords kneel and wait to be addressed by their Emperor. But this time, there is no Lord in attendance. There are no cronies observing from the shadows either. The high throne is empty. It's because Darth Vitiate, the Dark Lord himself, is on his knees on the floor in the bright glare of the spotlight.
His father has his dead mother's body pulled into his lap. It's unmistakably her slumped and lifeless form. Vitiate rocks her body back and forth, clinging to his dead lover as his sobs ring out in the vacant chamber. His raw, outpouring grief is intense and uncontrollable. "I'm sorry . . . I'm sorry . . ." he wails. "I love you." He means it, Gaius senses. "Why did you have to do it? Why did you make me do this? I hate that I did this . . ." Choking out words, his father beseeches the Force to let his mother haunt him. Because that way, at least, he will see her again. He doesn't think he can go on without her.
This isn't the snarky, snarling hater version of Darth Vitiate. The man with the tearstained face is humbled and vulnerable. He is heartbroken and horrified by the murder he himself committed. Gaius doesn't know what to make of his mix of resentment, regret, and pain. He's so transfixed by this unexpected version of his estranged parent that it takes him a moment to realize that his younger self is present. Off to the side of his slain mother, squirming in a blanket, lies a crying infant. That's him. It's got to be him. And just like last time, he's screaming his head off.
Disturbed, Gaius quickly turns away. He doesn't care to see more of the tragedy that was his parents' toxic love affair. What he has seen confirms what he has long suspected: that he is the innocent victim of his parents' bad decisions. The whole scene arouses more rage than empathy in him.
Gaius now stalks further down the starlit path, his own baby cries still ringing in his ears. There's another window up ahead that offers a peek into yet another place and time. What fresh Hell is this? Gaius decides not to look. He doesn't want to see any more of the past. But, naturally, he can't stop himself from glancing over. And that's when he again sees Darth Vitiate. This time, the man looks afraid. It makes Gaius pause.
He knows he shouldn't watch. But he does.
Who is Vitiate talking to? It's a small figure in the traditional Sith Lord's cloak with the hood pulled low. Yes, of course. It's none other than Darth Azamin, his father's longtime henchman. Lord Azamin is being tasked with the Emperor's dirty work as he becomes the unlucky fellow chosen to implement a hastily improvised, but still personally devastating conspiracy.
"Anyone! Give him to anyone! I don't care who! Just make sure it's far, far away from me. They can never connect him to me, do you understand? Kill whoever you need to kill to tie up the loose ends."
Azamin looks up, frowns, and throws back his concealing hood. "Are you sure this is wise?" he asks in a tone that clearly conveys he disapproves.
Vitiate ignores him. "I never want to know what becomes of him. It's probably best if you don't know yourself. Have some third party handle it and then kill them. No loose ends."
Darth Azamin calmly repeats his question. "Are you sure this is wise?"
"It's either this or I kill him, and I don't dare risk killing him," his father frets.
"She won't like this, Carl."
"Leave her to me."
Darth Azamin now proposes an alternative. "What if I take the child in and raise him myself?"
"Impossible."
"Why is that?"
"Do you think I would let a Lord as powerful and influential as you mentor my own kid? So one day you could both turn against me?" His paranoia on full display, Darth Vitiate fairly shrieks, "The combined midichlorians between you might just casually manifest into the Sith'ari some random afternoon!"
"I would teach him to revere you. To love you. To serve you."
"You won't teach him anything! He won't be trained."
"Carl," Lord Azamin's yellow eyes narrow with unspoken disapproval, "surely he must be trained."
"It's out of the question! He gets to live, that's all! He should be grateful. If this were any other kid, this would be an infanticide case."
"Carl—"
"He's a test-I know it! He's a test! He's a test that I am determined to pass!"
"What's the rush? He's a baby. Slow down, my liege, and let us consider other options—"
"No! I am decided! This is for the best . . . for all of us . . ." Vitiate looks truly panicked and that convinces his crony to relent. "This protects me, this protects him, and this protects the Empire," Darth Vitiate rationalizes his abandonment as magnanimous statecraft. Incredibly, he seems to believe it.
"Very well," Azamin sighs. "But I must say again, as your friend and your councilor, this is a grave mistake that could be your undoing."
Darth Vitiate scowls and for a moment he appears to waver. But he must decide that this is too important of a matter to compromise. He reverts to issuing orders. "Give him to some off-world peasant. Someone unimportant. He'll blend in with the nobodies."
"No one as powerful as your son will ever blend in."
Vitiate chooses to ignore the point. "He can have a normal life in obscurity, and we will all live happily ever after."
"This will never work . . ."
"He could be nothing, but then again, he could be everything. I tell you, this is for the best."
"To what end, Carl? Dread it, deny it, run from it . . . Destiny arrives all the same. You know it to be true. This whole scheme is futile and sure to blow up in your face."
It's the wrong thing to say. Those words fuel Vitiate's fear. He lashes out. "Don't lecture me! Cornelius, I have been fucking with destiny since long before you were born! That kid will bring destruction and pain and death and the end of everything I love because of what he will become!"
"You don't know that! Don't throw away your own son because you fear him! And what about Tosca? Hasn't she suffered enough? This will destroy her and it will destroy your happiness together—"
"I am being cruel to be kind!" his Emperor huffs. Vitiate's voice has become increasingly loud as the two men argue. It wakes up the sleeping baby who lays ignored atop the desk they stand beside. The kid starts wailing.
It's him. Baby him again. Gaius cringes as he listens to his infant self howl. Long before Force sensitive children manifest their power, they often show remarkable awareness of danger and conflict. Could he have known back then on some instinctive level the bitter fate that awaited him? Did he somehow sense the coming rejection? Grown-up Gaius seethes as he witnesses the beginning of the plot that made him a gaslit pawn for decades.
Fuck this! Gaius decides that he's done with this trip into the Force. He wants to go back to reality. To Leena. To a new beginning and a brighter, better future. It's time to let the past die. There's nothing for him here. He wants to put Darth Vitiate behind him and move forward. Because there is no amount of 'sorry' that can erase his father's crimes against him or against the Sith people. Gaius might hang out with a Jedi these days, but he's not the forgiving type. And besides, Vitiate has shown no inclination to reform.
So, closing his eyes, Gaius fervently beseeches his maker. Please, Force, he prays, be the instrument of my revenge. Punish Darth Vitiate and send me home where I belong. Give me a chance to live my life out from under the long shadow of Carl Veradun. After all, hasn't he earned a fresh start after a lifetime of blood, sweat, and tears spent defending the Dark Side? Life isn't fair, especially for the favorites of the Force. But he gave his all for the Shadow Force. Sure, he's made mistakes. All mortals do. But if the Force in its infinite wisdom can see fit to grant him this wish, he will continue to be its faithful servant. I'm a failure, Gaius freely admits to his god, but with your grace I will not fail again. Wretched sinner that he is, Gaius knows that all things are possible if the Force is with you . . .
"Gaius! Gaius!" That's Leena's frantic voice calling his name. "You're back!"
"Huh?" He opens his eyes to find himself lying on the floor. Both Satele and Leena are peering down at him with concern. Is this the right timeline? Yes, it looks like it is. This is the terrace of Vitiate's Zakuul palace. He's back in his own reality, home from the netherworld of the Force.
"My Lord, are you alright?"
Gaius says the first thing that comes to mind: "Where is he?" Where is his nemesis? Did the plan work? Has his long, lonely war against Darth Vitiate finally been won?
"It's just you," Satele answers. "So far . . ."
Just him. Does that mean what he thinks it means? "Did we get him?" Gaius heaves out as he climbs to his feet.
"I hope so." But the Jedi sounds unsure. Her face is perplexed, her expression wary. "I don't really know . . ."
"Don't know?" Gaius whirls to look behind him. Everything appears back to normal. The portal into the Cosmic Force has closed. It looks as if nothing ever happened . . . except Vitiate is gone.
Is this victory? Or is it a temporary respite? Could it be a trick?
"I don't know either . . . " Gaius realizes aloud. He looks to Satele with alarm, and she shrugs helplessly back at him.
Force layman Leena frowns. "Shouldn't there be a way to tell?" Sounding and looking stressed, she demands of Satele, "You're a Jedi, can't you tell?"
"I don't know," Satele answers slowly. Like him, she's perplexed. "You stepped into the portal with him, and you both disappeared. You were gone only a few minutes, and then you emerged out of thin air on the floor. Maybe that means he's coming back next?" the Jedi worries.
"We'd better go," Leena wails. "Take the win, and let's go!"
"She's right," Gaius concurs. Only time will tell Darth Vitiate's fate. But he's alive, Leena's alive, and Satele's alive, and that feels like the battle is won even if the war might not be. "Time to leave."
"Roger that. You can tell us what you saw in the Force on the way back."
"I don't remember," he mutters. He honestly has no clue what he saw or did once he walked through the portal with Vitiate. And while that's not a surprise, it is frustrating.
He's the one to linger now. Gaius closes his eyes to concentrate for a long moment. For all he knows, Vitiate has an invisibility trick and he's standing around watching them undetectable as usual since he cloaks his imprint. It's not like he hasn't disappeared before . . .
"Let's go, my Lord! Order the retreat!" Leena prods. She's shifting her weight impatiently as she hefts her stolen gun. She and Satele have moved to the terrace threshold. They are waiting on him. "Where are we going? Lead the way."
"Back landing pad."
"Where is that?"
"Follow me."
Thankfully, their exit is as uneventful as their arrival. Gaius uses his Force-stealth trick again and none of the guards even notices them. Their trio simply walks out of Vitiate's Zakuul palace. It helps that the place is in uproar over the downing of Prince Arcann's ship. The murder of the Crown Prince and his consort mother has their enemy distracted.
Once inside their stolen shuttle, Satele slips behind the controls to fire up the engines. As she readies for liftoff, the Jedi pilot mutters what they're all thinking. "I hope that worked . . ."
"If it did work, where is the Emperor now?" Leena wants to know.
"Still in the Force, I guess," he supposes.
"Does that mean he's alive?"
"Who knows?" Gaius isn't sure. Darth Vitiate was ever the reclusive enigma, so maybe it's fitting if he goes out in a mystery. "Let's hope all that hubris finally got him."
He dearly hopes old Vitiate's excessive pride has been his undoing. For where there is hubris, as the old Sith saying goes, there is tragedy. But in Vitiate's case, that tragedy always seemed to be suffered by someone else. Because even though Vitiate didn't necessarily escape unscathed from threats, he inevitably held on to what mattered most: power. But has the Force finally tired of its longtime Dark Side champion? Could the mighty Darth Vitiate truly have fallen? There's no way to know just yet, and they aren't fools enough to stick around to find out.
The shuttle lifts off and heads straight for the planetary shield gate. Will the clearance codes the late Prince Arcann provided work for an exit? They do. Gaius exhales the breath he's been holding. "Punch it," he orders the jump to lightspeed.
Satele fires the hyperdrive, and the normal black space outside the cockpit window accelerates to blue streaks. They slip away.
"Mission accomplished," Satele declares.
"If he's really gone . . ." Today did not go as planned. Gaius doesn't know how to feel about what just occurred with Vitiate—not for himself or for his people. It's too unresolved. Too inconclusive. He frowns and complains, "This feels very anticlimactic." It isn't the closure he is seeking.
Satele makes a very good point: "At the very least, today destabilized the Eternal Empire. Both princes are dead and Valkorian is unaccounted for. Their chain of command is wrecked."
"You're right," he concedes. This is a temporary victory, even if it might not be the total victory they sought.
"Now is the time for our forces to attack. We need to take full advantage of their confusion."
Again, the Jedi is right. But it won't do his people any good. Shaking his head, Gaius bemoans, "Maybe the Republic can attack, but the Sith won't. They're too confused themselves."
"What else is new?" Satele gripes over her shoulder from her pilot's seat. "Sith, you and your Dark Side buddies need to get organized. The tribal chaos has gone on long enough."
"That's not my job," Gaius mutters as clueless Leena, who was dead during the disintegration of the mighty Sith Empire, looks to him questioningly. He has so much to tell her, but Gaius isn't certain where to begin. That's going to be a very hard conversation.
But first, Gaius feels compelled to remind Satele, "Remember—no one can know what we attempted for Vitiate. Whatever you tell your people about the state of Valkorian's Eternal Empire, it can't include what we did."
"There was no 'we.' That was all you."
"I mean it," he snaps. This is a very important point. "If Vitiate is trapped in the Force, I don't want anyone attempting to reverse it. So don't go bragging to your High Council that you know how to open a portal."
"The World Between Worlds is forbidden to a Jedi," Satele answers primly.
"That didn't stop you from experimenting with it," he points out with a knowing look. "Men are fools for power. If word gets out, some Dark idiot will attempt to recruit a Jedi to free him."
Satele appreciates the problem. She assures him, "No worries, Sith. I understand. It will be our secret. I'll think of something to tell the Council for how I know what I know."
"Good." That's agreed. Gaius now slumps in his seat. As always, his adrenaline fades fast once the rush of combat is gone. There is a long flight ahead with all three of them wedged into the cramped cockpit. Their shuttle was designed to haul cargo, not personnel. It's sorely lacking in creature comforts.
At his side, spooked Leena keeps glancing silently at Satele. Leena's still uncertain if the Jedi is friend or foe. And that's understandable, since Leena's death was precipitated by injuries sustained while sacking the Coruscant Jedi temple. If she only knew that Satele was the Jedi he fought on Alderaan, Gaius is certain there would be a fight. But as it is, Leena still clutches her heavy blaster rifle in her lap. She's taking no chances where Satele is concerned.
The Jedi Grandmaster herself looks pensive. Like she's still processing what just happened. It's clear that she is deeply alarmed by the power Darth Vitiate demonstrated. The Jedi are Dark Side deniers. They cultivate willful ignorance concerning one half of the Force. It means they are routinely shocked when confronted by the majesty of the Dark Side. Gaius saw it in battle when Jedi opponents often seemed more concerned with rebuking his power than with besting it. But he can't blame Satele for being disturbed by Darth Vitiate's creepy necromancy. Vitiate stretches the Shadow Force to its limits, with no thought for the consequences.
Leena, one of those consequences, sits next to him. Gaius can't stop staring at her. She's real. She's alive. She's the Dark miracle that he rejected but Darth Vitiate performed anyway. And now, thanks to their escape, Leena is the happily-ever-after ending he didn't want but gets nonetheless. It's . . . well, Gaius doesn't know how to feel about it. Part of him is absolutely elated that she's back. Another part of him is terrified for what it means.
For her part, Leena is stiff and standoffish. It confuses him. Is it because Satele is present and three's a crowd? Could Leena be as uncertain as he is about where they stand as a couple? How traumatized is she by her resurrection? He doesn't know how to read Leena's current emotions. But there is no sweet reunion between them. No affection exchanged. Leena sits next to him behind Satele looking heart wrenchingly stoic as she clutches at her gun. The profile she presents is aggressively vulnerable.
Leena must sense his gaze. Her eyes slant his way. Something about his expression must concern her. She frets over him softly. "Are you alright?"
"I'm fine."
"You don't look so good."
"I'm fine." The words come out clipped and terse. Defensive, too. He's fine. He's absolutely fine. There isn't anything he can't handle. Even—gulp!—this.
Leena backs down with some immediate self-effacing. "Okay. I'll stop nagging."
"No, don't," he objects, already sorry for rebuffing her. Here she is reaching out and he's pushing her away. "It's been a long time since anyone nagged at me. Too long."
"Did Jose finally quit?" Leena gives a forced little laugh.
When he doesn't respond, she realizes she has misspoken. "He did. Oh, my. I guess a lot has happened while—"
"Jose Escriva is dead." His longtime faithful manservant is dead, along with all thirty-odd members of his household and all of his aides-de-camp. No one survived the destruction of his home, save for him.
"I see."
"The station was attacked a few years back. Everyone was killed."
"Everyone?" Leena winces.
He nods glumly. "All hands lost."
"How horrible," she whispers. Leena knew most of those people. She had lived with them for a time. "I'm so sorry," she mumbles. "Was it Adraas?"
"No. I killed Adraas right after you died on Coruscant. The station was destroyed by my political opponents."
Leena looks to him for more explanation, so he gruffly summarizes his failure. "After Vitiate disappeared, I declared a new Empire. I thought the infighting had gone on long enough that the Lords were ready for someone to establish order. But I misjudged the political climate." He had badly miscalculated. He might be the master military strategist of the Sith, but he's still a novice at politics. People act far less rationally in politics than at war, he has learned. War doesn't reward pettiness and it punishes capriciousness. But in the popularity contest of Sith politics, those traits are effective tactics.
He tells Leena the gist. "Declaring a new government prompted my enemies to ally together. The only thing they could agree upon was that I should not be Emperor." Gaius is sheepish as he feels his cheeks burn with humiliation. "So much has changed, but some things never change . . . I am hated and feared like always . . ."
"So, it's Lord Malgus versus everyone still?" Leena smiles weakly at him. She's teasing gently, but there is deep understanding in her eyes. She knows just what an outsider he is.
"Yes."
Gaius sighs. He's well aware that the biggest obstacle standing between him and success is himself. But it's far too late to rescue his tattered reputation, and his abrasive personality and unorthodox views are not going to change at this point. He is who he is. And really, that's the problem. He has a lot to offer the Empire, but no one wants it.
"I'm sorry."
"Yeah, me too."
Leena now searches his face in silence. It continues long enough to make him self-conscious. Is she noting how much he has aged since the war ended? She's been resurrected in her youthful prime, and he's on his downslope. His face has deep furrows now. The lines bear testament to isolation, defeat, loss, and despair. A lifetime spent at war with the Republic and with his peers has taken its toll. Six years spent frozen in carbonite didn't help matters. He's tired and old, and it shows.
Finally, Leena speaks. "I think you have a lot to tell me," she ventures gently.
He nods. "Brace yourself. None of it is good."
"I can handle it."
"I know."
That exchange sets the tone for his rambling, hours-long monologue rant that follows. Leena interjects a few comments and questions now and then. But mostly, he does the talking. He's long cultivated a laconic, acerbic demeanor. As a rule, Darth Malgus seldom shares his thoughts with others. But now in the safe space of his old confidante Eleena Daru, the words keep pouring out. Gaius recounts the cringey, humbling tale of what happened to him and to the Sith Empire after she died. It's ugly stuff made all the more awkward because there is a Jedi Grandmaster listening in beside them.
Some of what he reveals is intensely personal. Gaius glumly recalls his shock at learning his true heritage. Then, he tells Leena what he knows of his parents' relationship. It launches him into a litany of complaints about all the ways he has been deceived in life. About all the opportunities he has been cheated out of. About all the people who lied and all those who died to keep Darth Vitiate's bastard secret. He ought to have been the Sith crown prince and yet he was raised a penniless colonial orphan. He was told he was a random occurring Force user, when in fact he inherited his power. And all along, lurking in the background of his life, conspiring to keep him down, was his own father.
"But why?" Leena asks.
"Because he believed that I would one day become a threat to him."
"Power . . . it was about power." Leena's is as insightful as always, and she knows the ways of the Sith "Well, I guess he was right," she decides. "Today, you were a threat to him."
She seems confident, but he's not so sure.
From there, the conversation gets even more raw. He speaks about quitting the Navy in disgust and turning down the Dark Council spot Vitiate offered to him. Finally, he had gained the rank and status he had long sought, even attaining some begrudging social acceptance for his marriage to political insider Darth Severin's daughter. Yet in an awful irony, by the time he achieved that success, he no longer wanted it. He was too disillusioned and sad. Your death utterly destroyed me, he admits to Leena in a choked voice. Learning the truth of my relationship to Vitiate so soon afterwards put me into full-fledged crisis.
But he was a public figure in addition to being a private citizen. And that means the decisions of Darth Malgus inevitably had political repercussions. In some ways, Gaius acknowledges, his personal downfall mirrored the post-war decline of the Sith Empire. Ending the twenty-year invasion of the Republic with a peace treaty was a big mistake, he contends. Vitiate forfeited the revenge of the Sith for no good reason. Few Lords saw it that way initially. But in time, many came to perceive the withdrawal from Coruscant the same way he did, even if they didn't know Vitiate's secret personal motivations for the decision.
When I quit, people took notice, he admits. Darth Azamin retired about the same time, and that left a power vacuum at the Navy. Without battles to fight, the Sith war machine suddenly had no focus. People started asking hard questions about the future. Vitiate didn't have good answers.
Morale hit an all-time low in the years immediately following the war. Vitiate's popularity waned dramatically. It wasn't just among the Lord class, but among the common people as well. My bad attitude, Gaius sighs, came to be shared by many. At the time, that widespread malaise felt like vindication. I enjoyed it, he admits. But the bitter negativity turned out to be very destructive. The mood was poisonous and paralyzing both for himself and for his people.
Leena asks what he did after he quit. It gets him talking about all the random, sometimes foolhardy, Force quests he embarked upon. Private citizen Darth Malgus crisscrossed the galaxy to poke around in forgotten temples while the Sith Empire came apart at the seams. While others schemed, he retreated into the intellectual study of the Force. Gaius attempts to put into words his need to seek answers and to find purpose in the wake of her death and Darth Vitiate's shocking revelation. For a time, he became obsessed with rediscovering arcane Force lore, certain that therein lay the secret to defeating Darth Vitiate's sorcery.
"You wanted revenge?" Leena guesses.
"Yes," he answers bluntly. "After I killed Adraas, I needed a new enemy to focus on. Darth Vitiate—Darth Tenebrae—he wronged me. So many times, in so many ways, he wronged me."
"Did you also want his throne?"
It's a fair question that he answers honestly. "No. Not then. Not yet. I just wanted him punished."
There were a lot of brewing power struggles in the Empire back then, he explains. The Dark Council leadership was in flux and Vitiate increasingly delegated affairs of state. Now, he knows that Darth Vitiate had been busy building his Eternal Empire on Zakuul. That was his exit strategy already in the works. For rather than solve the problems of the Sith Empire, Darth Vitiate set about building a new regime. But at the time, no one knew it. Reclusive Vitiate slowly became more and more neglectful. Until finally, one day he left and never came back.
Darth Azamin would have been his logical successor as Dark Lord, except he was dead. No one alive in the Sith Empire had Azamin's widespread admiration and respect. That meant the field was wide open for opportunists to angle to seize power. In the strongman tradition of the Dark Side, a bloody transitional period was always to be expected. But things escalated to unprecedented levels. Civil war broke out. Treachery and betrayal ran rampant.
Disaffected Gaius chose to watch the infighting from afar. For a time, he was content to distance himself from the struggle to be Dark Lord. He held himself aloof until he couldn't in good conscience remain uninvolved any longer. Watching the Sith Empire crumble distressed him deeply. And that's when he realized he had mistaken his hatred of Darth Vitiate for disdain for his father's realm. "For all its shortcomings," Gaius confesses, "I love the Empire and I honor its ideals. The Dark Side has honor and merit," he maintains stubbornly with a glance over at silent Satele, who he knows disagrees.
Turning back to Leena, he laments that it all happened so fast. Between attacks by the aggressive Eternal Empire and by their old foe the Republic, the Sith were besieged. All the internal treachery and the lack of a clear chain of command severely hampered the Sith defense.
"I was part of the problem. I stood back and watched it collapse," Gaius mutters. His father's grand achievement—a proud Empire that had lasted a thousand years—fell to pieces. "I thought that would make me feel better," he grumbles, "but it made me feel worse. And that's when, too little and too late, I decided to intervene."
His bid for Emperor started well but flamed out fast. He lost everything and everyone left who he cared about. And then, to compound his failure, he stupidly got snared in carbonite by a rival. That's how six years later he ended up thawed out at Darth Vitiate's Zakuul palace. His half-brothers Arcann and Thexan had eventually conquered the Sith warlord rival who had Gaius' carbonite tomb hung on the wall of his fortress throne room. The twin princes were curious about the anonymous frozen guy. They brought him home for their father to torture with the Force for amusement. It led to Gaius learning the truth of his father's latest alter-ego, Emperor Valkorian. It's also how he met the stepfamily who replaced him and his dead mother.
Leena nods along as she digests his woebegone tale. When finally he finishes, she is contemplative. Is she going to say something? She does. "Things are very bad."
"Yes. The Sith need a hero." They need their mythical hero, the Sith'ari.
"I'm not talking about the Empire. I'm talking about you," Leena offers quietly.
He meets her eyes. It's clear she sees right through him. She knows that his rambling account of the crumbling Sith Empire might as well be about himself. For he is as directionless and lost as his homeland is currently.
Still, he brushes off the point. "I'm fine. It's the Empire that needs help. Someone needs to take charge. I had hoped it would be me, but it's not."
"You were a hero today," Leena posits, ever his stalwart cheerleader. "You defeated Darth Vitiate. No one's ever done that."
"If anyone defeated him, it was himself, from his arrogance," Gaius harrumphs. "If he's even really gone, that is . . ." Only time will tell if Darth Vitiate is permanently stuck in the Force. "So," he summarizes his current situation for Leena, "I'm alive and well, but I have nothing. My home was destroyed, and my fortune was stolen. I have no allies. No position. All I own is this enemy shuttle I stole. And somewhere, I have a second wife who thinks I'm dead."
"You married Lady Cassis like you planned?"
"Yes." Add that to his list of mistakes.
"Did it work out?"
"No. I wouldn't have gone through with it, but it was too late to back out without embarrassing her and making an enemy of Severin."
"Was she good to you?" Leena wants to know.
Gaius shrugs. "I never gave her the chance. We spent maybe two weeks together? By six months in, we stopped making even cursory contact. Jose played the go-between. He managed her for me." That sounds cold, but it's true. He delegated the second Lady Malgus completely.
"Is Lord Severin still around?"
"Yes. I think."
"Anyone else who likes you?"
"There's Angral. He hasn't forgiven me for quitting the Navy, but he still likes me . . . sort of . . . But enough about me. Tell me about you. What happened?"
Leena has far less to tell him than he's told her. "I woke up and lots of people were staring down at me. They told me I was alive. I guess I misunderstood and thought that somehow I had survived your sword. There is no scar, so I worried that I had dreamt the whole thing . . . I wasn't sure. It's all still pretty hazy. Images, mostly. Feelings . . . The last thing I remember is you . . . you lighting your sword and crying . . ."
"Go on," he prods. He's uncomfortable with those awful memories of her death on Coruscant. He doesn't want either of them to relive those moments, which no longer matter now.
"They put me in a cell. They didn't ask me any questions, but they didn't give me any answers either. I'm not even sure how long I was in there. There was no way to mark the time."
"Solitary?"
"Yes."
"Were you mistreated?"
"No. They ignored me. I guess that makes sense. They were interested in you. I was merely the lure."
Gaius exhales. "That's a relief." For like the Sith Empire, the Eternal Empire isn't known for its humane treatment of prisoners.
"So, what's next?" Leena asks. Gaius knows very well that's a substantive, not a procedural, question. But he gives the easy answer anyway.
"We rendezvous with a Republic cruiser so Satele can go home."
"You're ditching the Jedi? Good." Leena eyes the small woman sitting at the shuttle's controls facing out into space. There is suspicion in her eyes. "You and her . . .?"
"We're allies," listening Satele speaks up as she half turns.
"Just allies," he immediately affirms.
"Really? Because I saw you smile at her, and you know you never smile . . ."
"We're just allies."
Leena seems to accept that answer. But she starts setting boundaries all the same. "I'm fine with Lady Cassis," she allows, "but I draw the line at a Jedi. And so should you," she reproves. "Really, my Lord . . ."
Satele looks like she might burst out laughing at implied prospect of their romantic pairing. Could she smirk any harder? The Jedi Grandmaster chuckles low and drawls, "He's all yours," at Leena.
Leena gives a slight nod and then immediately resumes ignoring Satele. "I never thought I would see you ally with a Jedi," Leena grumbles more disapproval for him.
"Neither did I. A lot has changed." That's the best way he can explain it: a lot has changed.
Leena states it differently. "You've changed."
Those words are not an accusation, they're more like an observation. And they're made by someone who knows him and cares deeply. Poor Leena's clearly trying to make sense of the man he is now in light of the man she used to know. The problem is that Gaius can't really help her. He knows exactly how and why he arrived at this precise place in his life. The trouble is that he's not really sure where that is and what it means.
"So, we drop her off and then what?" Leena keeps pressing for a plan.
"I don't know."
"But you are going back to the Empire, right?"
He shrugs. "Everyone thinks I'm dead. I could probably retire somewhere anonymously, and no one would care." Force, that sounds awful . . .
"Retire?" Leena squints at him. "Is that what you want?"
No. "I don't know. Maybe." It might be the only choice left to him.
"This is because of me, isn't it? You weren't expecting me . . ."
While that's true, it's not really the issue. "I had no plans past confronting Vitiate." He just survived a suicide mission. So, no, he doesn't have a long to-do list waiting for him. In fact, he only attempted to best Vitiate largely because he had nothing left to lose if he failed. "I didn't think we would actually pull it off. But I wanted to try . . ."
"That's so you," Leena whispers. She gets it. She gets him. "Darth Malgus always does the right thing, even if it's the hard thing . . . the unpopular thing . . . For all you've changed," she assesses, "you're still the same man I knew."
"Leena—"
"Later. We'll talk more later," she shuts him down. Her eyes dart pointedly to Satele. "When we're in private."
"That's probably a good idea." He's all talked out at this point. But Gaius knows he does need to make a plan for the future. With Leena back in the mix, for the first time in a long time, he is responsible for someone other than himself. It's a game changer, for sure. But maybe it's what he needs.
Satele now swivels back around to face them in her pilot's chair. "How did you two meet?" she asks. When he and Leena exchange looks, Satele prods, "Go on, tell me. I know I'm being nosy, but is it a good story?"
Hostile Leena's eyes narrow. She treats the question like an interrogation. "Why do you want to know?"
"Because that's the most I've heard your man talk in the month we've spent together. I've done all sorts of Force tricks with him on his crazy crusade to save the galaxy, but I don't know him. Not really."
"You don't need to know him, Jedi!" Leena bristles.
"She tried to kill me," Gaius answers Satele's question mostly to preempt a fight. "That's how we met. She tried to kill me, and it got my attention."
"I've seen her shoot. You're lucky you're alive."
"It was poison," Leena hisses.
"Poison?" Satele lets out a low whistle. "Well, that's unusually creative. So . . . was it that old 'enemies to lovers' trope?"
Gaius grunts. "It was her slavemaster's plot. She was the unwitting servant assigned to serve me a lethal drink."
"Ouch."
"She had a slave collar embedded in her neck. She couldn't refuse."
"I did try to warn you," Leena points out. Still warily eyeing Satele, she explains, "He killed my master and his hired thugs. Then he took me with him back to his ship."
"Swept you off your feet, did he?"
That's literally true, but Leena remembers it differently. "More like he swept me into his war."
"So it was love at first sight?" the Jedi presses.
"I don't know if I would say that," Leena hedges, "but he made quite an impression."
Satele cocks her head. "I could see that."
Gaius can feel his face redden. Hearing the two women talk about him isn't where he thought this conversation was heading.
Leena actually giggles now. It makes him smile. He has missed that giggle.
"We weren't looking for romance. It sort of happened," Gaius grumbles sheepishly.
"That's right," Leena affirms.
"That's always how it happens," Satele offers. From her wistful tone, it sounds like the Jedi Grandmaster is speaking from personal experience.
"We eventually stopped denying it and his whole ship kept our open secret." Smiling at the memory, Leena warms to the topic. She recalls, "The crew adored him. They were so proud to serve under Lord Malgus. He was the pride of the Navy."
Again, Satele cocks her head. "I could see that."
"It was supposed to be an affair . . ."
Gaius instantly objects. "We were never an affair."
"Sure, we were. You were planning to marry a proper Sith Lady for politics and appearance's sake. And I was the slave woman you kept on the side."
"You were so much more than that," he snarls, feeling offended on her behalf. "And you were never my slave."
"I was fine with it," Leena pushes back softly. "I'm still fine with it. I'll fit into your life however you want."
What the Hell? "We're married, remember?" She's his wife.
"It wasn't legal."
"Who cares?"
"The Sith will care. I'm a humanoid, not a human. I'm from the Republic. I was a slave—"
"None of that matters!"
"Not to you, maybe. But it does to others. A leader must be respectable," Leena makes arguments he once made to her.
But did she not hear all of what he just told her? "I'm not a leader. Not anymore. None of that matters now."
Leena hears the plaintive note in his voice. She reaches over to grasp his hand and squeeze. "Today was leadership, even if only we three know."
Gaius looks up to find that Satele is watching them closely. "Cute," she comments, looking amused. "You two are so cute. Look, not to change the topic, but when we get back to the Republic, I've got a ship for you. Let me keep this shuttle so our intel guys can look it over for information. You won't want to be flying around Sith space in an Eternal Empire shuttle anyway."
"What are you offering us?" Gaius starts to bargain.
"It's some spice kingpin's personal ride we recently impounded. I'm told it's ultra-posh and armed to the teeth. It's Sith built, too. The Republic doesn't permit construction of civilian craft with that kind of firepower and shielding."
Gaius considers, but doesn't commit. "I'll take a look at it."
"It's a good trade. You'll be getting a big upgrade."
Gaius grunts. "Just out of curiosity, how many tracking devices should I be looking for on it?"
"None. You'll be getting it clean."
"Should I feel dissed?" Is he so far removed from importance now that the Republic doesn't care to know what he's up to?
"No. To be clear, you'll get it fully fueled and provisioned."
"Throw in some credits," Leena speaks up. When he looks to her in surprise, she immediately rephrases. "My Lord, ask her to throw in some credits . . . since we are broke and all . . ." It's Leena playacting meekness again. Look at her ducking her chin and lowering her eyes demurely.
"Does she always pretend like you're in charge?" Satele snickers. "Because I'm not fooled."
He huffs and Leena glares, but they both choose to ignore the comment.
"Throw in some credits," he now tells dutifully tells Satele.
"Lots of credits," Leena quickly adds.
"I can probably arrange that," Satele nods. "You know," the Jedi continues, "there could be an ongoing supply of credits under the right circumstances . . ."
"What are you hinting at?" He's humiliated to be taking the Jedi's charity as it is. It's yet another blow to his bruised ego. "I won't be on your payroll as a spy." He's no traitor. "My loyalty's not for sale."
"I would never insult you with that sort of offer," Satele immediately disavows. She has something different in mind. "How about the Republic covertly backs you for another run at the Dark throne?"
Wait—what? Gaius squints in surprise.
She repeats the offer. "What if I told you that the Republic will fund your next attempt at consolidating power?"