Cinder knelt and set the small lockbox she had brought from The Ashen One in the center of the clearing. She cracked the hinges. Inside, a modest collection of loose parts shone in the pink morning light. She heard Fell's laggardly footsteps as he came up behind her.
"What are these?" He let out a yawn. He had slept like a log the night before, and it had taken all of Cinder's willpower to rouse him.
Cinder scowled. If I slept half as well as you, nothing would ever get done. "You'll learn in time." She pointed to the other side of the clearing. "Go over there and make yourself comfortable."
She watched as Fell turned his back to her and knelt in the dirt. She turned around as well, staring into the wall of shattered trees that ringed around them.
"Meditate," Cinder said. "I want you to think on another tale, apprentice. But first, prove to me what you already know. Remind me of the Dark Lord's words." She heard him start reciting the Code of Ruin. His voice drifted until he sounded distant. Then, she felt it: the boundless energy of the Force drifting around her. In one moment it was a current; in another, a reckless cyclone. At once it was chaos and order alike. It was a ferryman guiding all living things down a treacherous river that spewed forth into two tributaries. One was placid and almost unmoving, as if in balance; the other, rippling dark water besieged by a ceaseless storm.
When Fell finished his recitation, Cinder closed her eyes. The murky abyss that enshrouded her vision burned away like a wick, and she saw clear through the fog. She heard it all come together: metal on metal, wire to circuit, plasteel brace to plasteel brace, all converging in a single shape. She felt another shape nudge itself out a robe pocket. It found a hatch and nestled itself within. There was quiet again, then a sharp whiz as the final product raced towards her like a gnat. She lifted a hand and metal grazed her palm. When Cinder opened her eyes, a new lightsaber graced her sight, and her distorted reflection peered back through the gleaming chrome.
"Your turn," she said, craning her head back towards Fell. "We're running short on time." She turned her eyes back to her handiwork.
The Force could be a fickle thing, especially for those like them who had trod the dark path for so long. Her ears told her Fell had begun his work, and so she took her leave to begin the tale.
"Keep your focus, apprentice," Cinder said, closing her eyes once more. "Did we ever discuss the Triumvirate of Old? The three Dark Lords of the Sith who once almost brought this galaxy to ruin? Forgive me if I lecture you again. Though equals, one stood amongst them as leader: Darth Traya. She thought the Force was nothing more than a set of a shackles, a malignant tumor to be excised from the body of the galaxy. All living things were its slaves. She was treachery made flesh, and what greater treason is there than to betray the Force itself?
"Her theory found credence in the form of her twin apprentices, who later became her equals. In a desperate bid to cling to life, both had willingly enslaved themselves to the whims of the Force. Nihilus hungered for its boundless energies; he consumed entire worlds to sustain himself, yet ravenous he remained. Sion was a broken shell cursed to unlife. He called upon the Dark Side to hold his sundered carcass together, yet he forever suffered in excruciating pain. They betrayed the betrayer and severed her from the Force. All three were punctures in the veil."
Cinder paused for a moment. She listened for a moment to the furtive clicking of Fell's lightsaber assembly, then continued before he felt compelled to fill the silence. "But only," she continued, "Darth Traya survived her scourging. She sought out another wound in the Force - a Jedi Exile - and together, they traveled a galaxy in flames. Together, they wiped the slate clean and put an end to the orders of old. Then, Traya fled to her temple on the death world of Malachor V and sought to destroy the Force itself.
"And in the end, Traya orchestrated her own betrayal at the hands of the Exile she'd trained, who came to Malachor and confronted her in the bowels of her academy. But she underestimated her new apprentice. The Exile forgave the Dark Lady, who passed on into the Force, and destroyed what remained of Malachor, suturing the wound in the Force."
Cinder heard the last of the metal pieces click together. "What say you on Darth Traya's philosophy, Lord Fell?"
She turned to watch the boy's lightsaber whip through the air towards him, slipping through his fingers and smacking him on the forehead. He keeled forward against the dirt, groaning. Fool. He crawled forward and scooped up the hilt. It was much better than his old one. Slim, elegant, and wieldy as opposed to the slab he had before. She watched him jam his crystal into the socket by hand. She could only shake her head.
"Well," Fell said as he rose with the hilt in his hand, "clearly she was wrong." He practiced gripping it, trying to find the most comfortable positioning for his hands. "The Force still lives. Others on Korriban told me Traya was a bitter old hag."
Cinder rolled her eyes. "Talk is talk. I asked what you believe, not what others say."
"Well, maybe if she'd succeeded in her goal to kill the Force, there would be something worth talking about." They both made their way to the center of the clearing, where the now-empty lockbox sat with its open mouth.
"Fine," Cinder said. She raised a hand to her forehead and looked to the sky. Sunrise was in full swing now, and the dark red curtain above was replaced by a vivid orange. "You must at least notice certain... parallels."
"Maybe I do." Fell gave her a cocky sneer. "But somehow I don't think Ruin is as much of a schemer as old lady Traya. So you agree it's treason then?"
"If only it were so simple. Traya left a ravaged galaxy in her wake. The Jedi were all but snuffed out; the Sith Order that Revan forged anew was completely eradicated. Ruin merely wiped his own pawns off the board." The galaxy, thankfully, still intact. Cinder beckoned him and they followed the forest path.
"But I've known the man for several years, Lord Fell," Cinder said. She kept a brisk pace and he struggled to keep up. We have wasted too much time here. "I have known this man longer than you have been alive. I'm sure he has his reasons for what he did, no matter how nonsensical they appear to us."
Fell finally caught up to her and managed to keep pace at her side. "So we find him and interrogate him, figure out his intentions?"
Cinder nodded. "At the very least. Regardless, we enact justice. He is no fit leader."
"But who claims the mantle?"
"Time will tell." Cinder knew it would fall to her. But do I want it? "For now, the matter remains of finding him. But that is not a matter for the open air."
The journey back to The Ashen One was not quite long, but it dragged nonetheless without the color of conversation. Their only aural accompaniment was the clangor of the forest: calling birds, chirping great crickets, and the sound of snapping twigs underfoot. HK-47 had the cargo ramp down within moments of their return. Once they boarded, they entered the cockpit, where the droid took his seat in the copilot's chair.
"Query: Which gilded world do we see now, Master? Suggestion: I hear Felucia is quite nice this time of year. The wildlife is only slightly rabid."
"We're setting out to find the Dark Lord of the Sith," Cinder said. "Do you have any idea where he might be?"
The droid's head swiveled to the left to face her. If HK-47 had been a man, his face surely would have been scrunched up in deep thought. "Answer: Your dark lord is lost to the galactic winds, I'm afraid. I have no way of knowing where he is. Jibe: You had me locked away like an appliance in that wretched supply closet, you see."
"I think we should go to Nar Shaddaa," Fell said. He sat in the pilot's seat, crossed his arms, and spun it around.
"What?" Cinder felt her entire face twitch in vexation. "We have no time for you to debase yourself drinking and whoring in Hutt space."
Fell chuckled. "Not this time anyway. Relax master. I think we need a spacer to help us find our missing dark lord. A navigator, maybe."
"A spacer." She scoffed. "We're both capable pilots. What use have we of some washed up spacer from the den of the Hutts?"
"Less for their piloting, more for their knowledge of the fringes of the galaxy." He brushed a tangle of brown hair out of his eyes. "Think it over, you know I'm right."
Cinder put a finger to her chin. It was an absolutely stupid plan, she knew, but it was the only option they had. Trawling the galaxy searching for Ruin would be just as pointless, and leave them out of fuel and stranded.
"Fine. HK, set course. Fell, come with me." She left the cockpit for the central terminus, finding herself standing against the holotable. She removed her gloves, tossed them aside, and traced her fingers along the cold metal trim that ran along the table's side. She glanced down at her fingers; the pads were black as if with soot. Fell approached the other side of the table opposite her.
"Before we get there," she began, giving him a sharp once-over, "there is aught of which you must be aware."
"Say the word, master."
"First, the saber." She pulled hers from her robe, felt it cling to her hand as she tightened her grip, and ignited it. A bright orange blade shot forth in front of her. She pointed it towards Fell, beckoning him to do the same.
He pulled his own saber hilt off his belt. His grip was much too tight, as if he feared he would lose it at any moment. Cinder knew she would have to correct that misguided notion soon. She watched Fell ignite the blade, and a smooth silver burst from the refractory lens.
"Interesting," Cinder said under her breath, then cleared her throat. "You know this, but that weapon is your life. If you lose it, especially in these dark times, you're already dead." She half-glanced at his affirmation and then continued. "From now on, we are wayward Force-attuned. Jedi, if anyone dares ask."
"But-"
"No buts," Cinder said. She sheathed her saber and Fell did the same. "We are being hunted. The Republic knows there were survivors of the sacking of Korriban. If there is the promise of a bounty, the dregs of Hutt space will be upon us like mynocks in a ship's belly. So if anyone asks, we are Jedi. Travelers, wayward, and not of the Order. Understood?"
Fell grimaced. "Yes, I understand. Must we act the part though as well?"
"Of course not," Cinder snorted. "We need not make it worse on ourselves. When we are free of the moon and its wretched inhabitants, we forego the ruse."
Fell cocked an eyebrow. "What is the ruse?"
"From now until we leave Nar Shaddaa, I am your aunt. I've taken you into my care following your father's decision to join one of the Jedi Small Councils on some far off world, forsaking his family for a monastic life among fellow masters." But if no one asks, the story's of little concern.
"Well, we'll see how long this mummer's farce lasts," Fell laughed. "This is foolish, they'll see right through it."
"The Hutts? Absolutely, I have no doubt. We needn't go before them if we can avoid it. But for the commoners, the hunters, the hedonistic nobles and their slaves, and for our wayfinder you seem so keen to find, it should suffice." She cocked her head to the side. "Speaking of, I believe you have someone specific in mind. Ideas don't tend to come to you out of nowhere."
"I doubt you'd know of him," Fell sighed. He scratched at the thin stubble on his chin. "Marcus Kregg, a legend in smuggling circles. The shipwright back on Ord Mantell was always telling stories about him."
"The name sounds familiar," Cinder said. She pondered it for a moment. Kregg, Kregg, where have I heard of him before? "Go on, I'm listening."
"Kregg isn't the fastest pilot in the galaxy, although he's pretty damn close. They say he can find anything—or anyone—in the galaxy if you set him to it."
Cinder recalled now: Kregg had been a spice runner that plagued the Republic back in her Jedi days. Even she had never been able to catch him as he darted from planet to planet, seemingly on paths absent from all the starcharts and therefore unknown to anyone but him. Even sending Jedi after him proved fruitless; he always disappeared into the cosmos, untraceable by their skills in the Force. They didn't call him the Ghost of Byss for nothing. "You're enthralled with a myth."
"The man's gotta be more than a myth, master," Fell said. "People earn their stripes."
Sometimes. "We don't even know if he's alive. Kregg's heyday was ten years ago and he wasn't exactly young in those days, either. We may find a legend, or we'll find a washed up old man."
Fell shrugged. "He's our best shot to finding Ruin."
"Fine," Cinder sighed. What's the matter with adding more fool's business to an already foolish plan? "We find Kregg, doubtless in some dive, then what? We take him and go?"
"Well, obviously he'll need to be convinced. I figure if I leave the talking to you, things might go better."
She laughed at that. Yes, it would."If he agrees to help us, we will pay his price." She leaned over the table and glared at Fell. "But you surely understand, I am not above killing folk heroes and legends if they cross us."
"It shouldn't come to that," Fell said. "Besides, you kill him and we have nothing. We're back to scouring space forever unless Ruin comes to find us himself.
And I know as well as anyone he would never. Cinder pushed herself back from the table and began to walk towards the aft hallway. "Return to the droid," she said as she swung into the hall. "He'll need you to guide him out of here. I'll be in my chambers if you need me."
When she found herself alone in her room, she shed her robes and crawled into the ruffled sheets of her bed. It took ages of staring open-eyed at the wall, but sleep found her. Cinder's only worry was not whether she would dream, but of what she would dream. Before her eyes shut, they caught a glimmer of red light on Phobos' holocron.
Do not haunt me again, witch. I understood you the first time.