Chapter Fifteen: Fathers & Sons

"Did you weep, O Despot
In your hour of triumph?

You set Nuswatta's temples aflame,
Burned gods and made feast in ashes.
Jhantoria you stained with a pyre of foes
Already beaten, fit only for holocaust.
You toppled the towers of Corlax
And strode triumphant through their ruin.

We called you an artist of destruction,
A maestro of blood and fire,
Yet you never knew desolation
Until you donned the Tyrants' crown
And we saw you, Great Xim,
A man after all.

Did you learn at last?
The only daritha is death."

Lyechusas

Eleven days after the Second Battle of Ranroon (or as it was already called, the Great Mutiny), Xim son of Xer was crowned daritha, lord of all mankind, during a grandiose ceremony at his palace on Desevro. Though investigation into the mutiny was still ongoing (and difficult, for the deaths of its main conspirators) the coronation was well-attended by dignitaries from every planet in the Empire, as well as military officers and special guests.

Among the latter was Seilar Minasc Hortav, now regent of an independent Ranroon. Among the former were loyal men in full regalia, including Admiral Felric and, to the surprise of many, Sait Kadenzi. The Supreme Commander had been pulled into an escape pod ejected from the dying Victor's Crown, not by loyalists but by mutineers hoping to bargain for their lives (An ill-thought plan; once they surrendered Kadenzi, they were promptly executed).

Others, both loyal and treasonous, had escaped the Crown, but the wife and son of the First Viceroy were not among them. Marco IV Jaminere stood beside Kadenzi for the coronation and spectators wondered which man looked more haunted.

The ceremony was a long one, for representatives from each world had to pay tribute to Xim in the form of unique gifts from their respective planets. They did not bear these prizes personally; they'd been gifted and inspected beforehand, and already placed about Xim's treasure ship in orbit. This treasure ship, formerly the King of Tion, had been rechristened the previous day as the Queen of Ranroon.

Through the entire procession Xim sat upon an ivory throne, receiving each gift with a nod. He wore an old Argaian martial uniform with a cape of Ranroon whale fur draped off his shoulders. There was no visible trace of his injuries. He accepted every gift, then listened to Lyechusas read her latest ode, all without speaking a word.

At the very end came the moment all had been waiting for. Trumpets lifted brassy triumph to the ceiling as seven kiirium-plated war robots marched down the red-carpet to the throne. The robot standing at the front of the column held metal hands forward, palms up, with a single gold crown resting there.

Xim rose, stepped off the dais, and met the robots. Without a word, without expression, Xim took the ancient Tyrant laurel, lowered it onto his head, and crowned himself daritha, master of all.

The audience broke into applause that lasted minutes, though they kept clapping less from joy and more from fear of being the first to stop. Xim ended the adulation by stepping off the throne and into the veiled ante-chamber from which Essan had watched the performance.

They were alone there. Essan stayed beside the blinders she'd used for viewing and watched as Xim shrugged off the cape, winced, and rubbed his wounded shoulder.

"Can your powers heal, witch?" he asked without looking at her.

"Some Jedi can," she allowed, "but I never learned the skill."

"And Erakas?"

"I don't believe he can either."

"You don't believe?" He looked at her, eyes narrowed.

"He can't. And he's not here anyway."

"You still haven't told me where he's gone."

"No."

Xim walked over to a floor-to-ceiling mirror. He examined himself not with pride but discomfort. The uniform disguised the chipped bone and torn muscle in his shoulder but not the haggard look in his eyes that hadn't left since Ranroon. He was still difficult to read in the Force, but Essan sensed a man for whom the universe had become darker and more uncertain.

"Naturally, I've had my people sifting through the wreckage over Ranroon this past week," he said. "Per our agreement, we handed back the remains of all Federation ships to Minasc… but we did copy some of their computer cores first. On several vessels we found nav systems attuned to beacon frequencies beyond the normal band. I've sent several scouting missions and they've uncovered some of Indrexu's hidden hyperspace routes."

"You don't need them anymore. The war is over. At least, you promised it was."

"I honor my word." Xim still faced the mirror and watched her reflection. "But I was also curious. And, most interestingly, my scouts found that one beacon, though listed on the nav charts, was entirely missing."

"Is that a surprise? Minasc might be shutting them down." But Essan knew what he was after.

"The missing beacon was on a short, dead-out route two jumps from Ranroon. I sent several drones to investigate and scan for notable objects in the light-years beyond that route. And do you know what they found?"

"Nothing."

He turned to face her. "Your people moved the Star Forge, didn't you?"

"Indrexu's crew repaired it enough to re-activate the hyper-drives."

"You know where it is."

He glared, but Essan didn't flinch. "It's been moved to an uninhabited star system. I don't know the name and I don't know its new beacon frequency. But you don't need it if the war is over. And you swore you'd be satisfied with my services."

It had been an oath sworn by three parties; one of them was dead but Essan would hold up her end as long as Xim held his. So far he had, allowing Ranroon its independence and recalling his warships from all its nearby systems. The Imperials still occupied Yutusk and most of the old Federation systems, as well as hundreds of others taken by decades of conquest. Perhaps Essan could do something to help them, in time, once she decided where her pact with Xim would take her.

The daritha asked, "Is Erakas with it?"

"I'm not telling you where he's gone."

"Our oath—"

"Our oath included only me. Not Erakas. He has no part of this and you don't want him at your side."

"I don't, do I?"

"He lost his son at Santossa. If you haven't noticed, he blames you whether it's your fault or not. We Jedi aren't warriors, but we can be far worse if we allow ourselves to be."

She expected him to rebuff her threat, because Xim was a man who met fire with fire, but instead he said, "Many are grieving right now. The only thing we can do is move toward the future."

Xim carried several griefs of his own. She didn't need the Force to know that; his haunted eyes told all.

Essan asked, "Where does your future take you?"

"Our future," he said.

"Where?"

He looked back at the mirror, at himself. "I told you about an alien empire called the Hutt Supremacy. I wasn't lying or exaggerating. It may be the greatest threat the human race has known since the Tyrants. I don't know if you care about humanity, but I care."

"I care about all life."

"If you want to prevent a war, then I welcome your help. My fleets were already exhausted before the mutiny. Morale is low. We need more soldiers, more ships." His eyes met hers in the mirror, but she didn't reply. "The wheel of history hasn't stopped turning, it just shifted on its axis. You helped make that shift. You can shift it again if you stay beside me."

After her time with Indrexu, Essan had almost got used to serving power. But Indrexu, for all her faults, had been fighting for the liberty of her world. Xim's purposes were darker, and Essan knew she'd have to make compromise between her new oath and the one she'd sworn to the Jedi.

She also knew that, when history's axis did tilt next, there'd be no better place to effect it than at the daritha's side.

"I could tell that sometimes Indrexu was frightened by my powers," Essan said. "She she knew she couldn't understand or control me, but she put those fears aside because she needed me." She took two steps toward Xim. "Are you frightened of me?"

She'd expected him to deny it but hoped for a glimpse of truth in the Force. Instead he turned and looked her in the eye. "I've lusted after your magic my entire life but it's always outside my grasp. You wield power like ancient gods and all my fleets and armies are useless against you. Anyone who isn't terrified at the sight of you is insane."

A shudder ran through her. During her years with Reina, Kroller, and Vaatus she'd almost felt like family to them, but not quite. There'd been tiny, silent moments where each of them betrayed suspicion, fear, or uncertainty toward her, not because they didn't trust her, but because her power was totally beyond them, and they could never be fully comfortable with something they couldn't understand. Erakas and Reina seemed to have solved that problem; now even that was uncertain.

"So know this," breathed Xim, "I don't savor a partnership any more than you do. But for both of us, it's necessary. So I will keep my oath."

"Then I will too," she said quietly. "For her."

Xim nodded, and for a second she felt the loneliness of a man whose dreams put him forever apart from the rest of the galaxy. This sensation was faint and fleeting but Essan recognized them instantly, for they were a near-perfect mirror of her own.

-{}-

The huge Tyrant foundry sat near a derelict star whose name Reina couldn't remember. There weren't even planets circling this lonely sphere, only a few loose chains of mined-out asteroids. It was just beyond the Empire's reach and not far from Idux, which meant it was as good as any a place to hide this thing until somebody figured out what to do with it.

That somebody, it seemed, was going to be Erakas, because who else was there?

Some technicians had volunteered to stay with the Star Forge and continue research and repairs, but many had opted to go back to Ranroon, so its giant corridors seemed even more empty as Reina and her husband walked them together. Erakas had said he felt a discomforting hunger from his place. She didn't know what that meant, and she'd started to wonder if she'd really understood anything he'd said.

"Do you have a way to keep in touch with Essan?" she asked as they strode side-by-side down the catwalk.

"We worked out a cycling code we can use to encrypt trans-missions. And I know where to send them now."

"To Xim."

"I don't like it. She doesn't like it."

"Then why is she doing it?"

"Essan always wanted to do something great with the Force. Being with Xim gives her a chance, dangerous as it is."

It made no sense to Reina. Even by Jedi standards. "I'm glad you're not rushing to his side."

Erakas stopped her with a touch. He ran fingers softly soft the back of her hand but didn't squeeze it. "Reina, I swear… I never meant to abandon you. I thought I was learning how to protect you, and—"

"Shut up," she said gently, and put her other hand over his mouth. "Don't. Please."

He moved her hand away with his own but didn't speak. Reina didn't have fancy Force powers but his look said it all. There was regret there he'd never get over, and confusion he'd failed to resolve. It was terrible to look at and worse to know she couldn't do a thing to help him, because he was a Jedi and she was just a poor mortal woman who meant nothing to the Force.

She fell into his arms, collapsed against his chest, and buried her face in him. She cried a little, sobbed and whimpered some, but mostly she buried herself in him, breathed him, let all the memories of their years together gush past. Her, Erakas, Sohren, a family secure in the quiet rotations of Santossa Station. It had seemed so perfect and it was already fading like a dream. She wondered how long it would be before she'd forget her son's eyes.

Or how long it would take her to forget her husband's.

Erakas enfolded her in a strong embrace, and when he finally relaxed and let her push back she saw that he'd been crying too.

"Reina, I swear—"

But she quieted him again, fingers to lips. "I think you have work to do. People who need you."

But that wasn't her. Not now, not anymore.

When she removed her hand he didn't argue. "What will you do?" he asked.

"I don't know. Try to find Vaatus, I hope."

"Still no word from him?"

"No. Dad thinks we should go back to the Expansion zone to look."

"You should. I think..." He looked down. "I believe he's alive, somewhere. Don't give up on him."

But he didn't know. The Force demanded so much, but it seemed to give so little. She knew her father and Vaatus were awed and even frightened of the Jedi sometimes, though neither would admit it out loud. Reina had never been able to place her feelings until this moment.

She pitied them, Erakas and Essan both. They had the power of gods but the lives of mortals and could never fit comfortably in either sphere.

She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, pulled herself up, and kissed him on a wet cheek. He said, "Let me know what you find. Don't… don't give up on me. Please."

"I won't," she said, and when she dropped back he kissed her on the forehead.

But that was all. They separated, turned, and walked in opposite directions: she toward the oldest home she'd known, and he down the throat of his hungry beast.

-{}-

Kroller was waiting in the Gravity Scorned's cockpit when Reina crawled up the ladder and pulled herself into the comm station seat. For a while, he recalled, one of the Jedi had usually manned that spot, but that felt so long ago, almost unreal. His daughter was back in her place now, the place she'd belonged in from the start. His heart ached for her.

Reina wasn't one to indulge in heartache. Only after she'd strapped herself in did she leaned back and looked in his direction. "I'm done here," she said unnecessarily. "Do you know where to go next?"

"Not exactly," he admitted, "but I know some places and the Expansion zone and made a few connections. But it'll take us a while to get there."

"That's all right." Reina closed her eyes. "I could use a long time with nothing to do."

She looked almost peaceful like that, but of course she wasn't all right. She'd never be all right ever again, but hopefully, in time, she'd learn to work around the scars of the last few days.

It was the best anyone could hope for; to work around scars.

Did the Jedi, with their godlike powers and overweening ambition, understand that? Probably not. Kroller felt for Erakas and Essan both, but he was glad to get them off his ship. If they found Vaatus again, hopefully he'd join them and the Gravity Scorned could be whole as it once was. Just the three of them against the universe, needing nothing but each other, a family.

"Gonna warm up engines now," he said. "Start pre-flight."

"Okay." Reina opened her eyes. "I'm on it."

They turned from each other and went to work, and minutes later the Gravity Scorned broke away from the Star Forge and vectored into the merciful void of space.

-{}-

By the time the signal from Yabok and Vreshan arrived, Vaatus had all but given up. Yet the message was clear: they were to rendezvous at a space station in the Tialvai system, where the Hutt courier was currently being dismantled and analyzed. Tialvai was past the worms' sphere of influence; it was, in fact, closer to the so-called Expansion zone where Xim was greedily gobbling up planets.

It wasn't a surprise. The humans of Tion had the best scientists and engineers Vaatus had ever encountered. He was interested in seeing what opportunistic technicians made of Hutt technology. It also seemed to be derived from the Tyrants' machinery, but the Hutts may have discovered or rediscovered new abilities. It was sure to be an interesting meeting.

He wasn't prepared for what they got.

As soon as Morguk's ship exited hyperspace, they found themselves plunging toward an Imperial penteconter. When he saw it through the porthole Vaatus squawked in unrestrained panic, "Pull up! Pull up!"

But Morguk said firmly, "No. Vreshan's signal is coming from that ship."

"You don't understand, that's Imperial," Vaatus pressed. "As in Xim's empire!"

And Morguk said: "I expected as much."

Words uttered a seeming-forever ago echoed in Vaatus's mind: My foe's foe may yet be useful.

Pellak, strapped at the communications console, reported, "We are receiving a hail from the ship itself. They are giving us docking instructions. In Kajain'ku."

Either Vreshan really was safe on that ship, of Xim had hired good interpreters. Morguk took the helm and guided their little ship toward the long, bristling mass of the penteconter.

When they stepped through the airlock portal, they were met by a half-dozen soldiers in metal-weave body armor sporting automatic rifles. The faces peeking out beneath their black-shell helmets all looked so similar, so smooth and soft. Vaatus had never imagined he'd return to the Empire like this.

"Raise your arms so you can be searched for weapons." said one guard in Tionese.

It was a tongue only Vaatus knew. In Kadas'ku he said, "He wants us to—"

"I know what he wants." Morguk raised both arms. So did Pellak and finally Vaatus. They'd expected this and left all weapons on the ship. The guards patted them down quickly.

"Follow us, please," the guard said, then turned and marched.

Morguk followed. Vaatus walked right beside him as the guards led them inside the polyreme. His legs wobbled at first for the stable gravity, but soon he was walking in long, determined strides. It wasn't long before they reached their destination: a plain, utilitarian storage room.

Waiting for them in the chamber was a most unlikely combination: two Weequay, two Nikto (one ruddy, one pale), two towering kiirium-coated war robots infamous throughout known space… and a rat.

A rat, but more. The furry creature, wearing a black vest and fez, stood on two legs and rose a meter high. Its nose throbbed and whiskers twitched as it scented the arrivals. The rat doffed its hat, gave a tiny bow in towering Morguk's direction, and said a few words in Huttese.

Morguk crossed his arms and replied. Vaatus couldn't decipher it but Morguk spoke very seriously, without surprise or amusement at the squeaky little thing standing between robots thrice its height.

That, finally, was when it clicked. Vaatus, like his father, made a point to stay strategically aloof of Imperial doings, but even he had heard rumors that one of Xim's most trusted agents was a furry little alien from outside known space. They told a lot of stories about Xim and that had seemed fairly down the scale of believability until now.

He scoured memory for a name, and then it rolled off his tongue. "You're Oziaf, aren't you?" he proclaimed.

The rat turned away from Morguk, blinked those big eyes, and replied in perfect Tionese, "I didn't expect to hear the human language from lips like those. And yes, I appreciate the irony of the statement."

All eyes were suddenly on Vaatus and he winced, afraid he'd embarrassed them all. "I'm sorry, I've… I've heard of you. You're Xim's agent."

"Of course. You'll have to excuse my being late. Things have quite hectic back in the Empire, but rest assured the ship you acquired was quite valuable."

Vaatus glanced at Yabok, standing stoic beside Vreshan. How long had the Weequay been working for Xim? Did he care about fighting the Hutts at all or was he just a mercenary? So many questions, and he lacked the tongue to ask them.

Morguk said to him in Kadas'ku, "We cooperated with Xim's empire for mutual gain. Everything we've done had been to liberate our people."

"Why, so you can hand them over to Xim instead?"

"My foe's foe—"

"I remember," Vaatus fumed. "But you can't trust them. They've conquered even more worlds than the Hutts. If they come to Kintan—"

"Excuse me," Oziaf said in polite Tionese, "if we return to our shared tongue, I'm sure I can address your complaints directly."

"I don't trust you." Vaatus was angry enough to be reckless.

Yet Oziaf took it in stride. "Trust is not the issue here. Mutual necessity is."

"You wanted to examine Hutt technology."

"Of course. We've already recovered an item that will revolutionize the Empire. Instantaneous communication, without reliance on sublight transmissions or hyperspace drones." Oziaf's tail twitched. "Naturally, we'll be holding onto that one for analysis and eventual mass-production. For now it's a military-grade secret. However, we're perfectly happy to let you have other spoils. All the navigational data, as well as the communications logs. I never learned to read Huttese, but from what our translation matrices have pulled so far, it looks like there's lots of juicy exchanges between the worms' priests. Should be quite scandalous, were you to take it home."

Vaatus knew he shouldn't trust this creature, but as he listened to the words he felt his worries ebb, just a little. "Have you worked with them before?" He made a small gesture to Morguk.

"Perhaps you should be asking your comrade that."

"I'm asking you."

"Truthfully, no. Though I have enlisted Yabok on several missions, this is my first time collaborating with the notorious Morguk. Though not the last, I hope."

"You want to work with us again?"

"Of course. Why do you think I'm being so generous?" Oziaf tittered. "There's no reason for us to trust each other, but we have mutual enemies."

"I didn't realize Xim was at war with the Hutts."

"Not yet, and hopefully not ever. But one must be prepared. As you know, they are a mighty opponent."

Vaatus crossed arms. "What do you expect us to do for you next?"

"I'm afraid I have nothing specific. When I called things 'hectic' back home, it was a coy understatement."

He thought on his father, on Reina and the Jedi. "What's happened?"

"A very long story, and all I'd tell you can learn elsewhere. Suffice it to say that Xim's fist now encloses all mankind."

And his family? Essan, who'd set herself against the despot? He had so many questions, and this rat might have answers.

But he took a deep breath, considered, and asked, "Do you want advice?"

He expected Xim's rodent to mock or condescend, but Oziaf's tone was curious. "On what subject?"

"Your emperor may be set on conquering every star, but he needs to stay away from these Hutts. They're not like anything he's faced before."

"A loyal citizen of the Empire, are you?"

"No. I just don't want to see what happens if he and the Hutts collide."

"So you prefer peace, even if it costs you the chance to free your world?"

He weighed his still-burning grief against the memory of his human family, and he nodded.

"You intrigue me." Oziaf's tail hooked to form a question mark over his head. "How is it someone of your kind came to inhabit Xim's domain?"

"I could ask you the same thing."

The rat's snout twitched; amusement? "A good question... for another time. For now, I suggest you follow your companions," he waved at Yabock and Vreshan, "who can show you what you've gained for your efforts."

Morguk, who'd been listening with stony patience, took this as a sign. In Kadas'ku he said, "Come, Vaatus. We can judge for ourselves if this partnership was worth it."

It won't be, he wanted to cry. Katorr's partnership with the so-called Liberator had destroyed him; would this be any different?

Logic said no, but when he looked at Oziaf, Oziaf looked at him and he felt something pass between them; not trust but empathy, and perhaps that was the seed from which trust grew.

-{}-

In all the cosmos there was no greater world that Varl. The homeworld of the Hutts twirled eternally around the twin glow of Ardos and Evona, who fed its flowering trees and warmed its vast, beautiful swamps. The Hutts had built an empire since the fall of the Wardens, cannibalizing hundreds of worlds for raw materials their industrial base required. Yet Varl was a holy place and they'd left its groves and mud flats virtually untouched, so that all Hutts might return to its primal beauty when they tired of their duties elsewhere.

Churabba's work as a Virtue kept her skirting among lesser worlds and she didn't come back here as often as she would have liked, but the time had come for the Inijic Host to make its annual pilgrimage to the Blazing One. She voyaged to Kossak's Hierarch before joining him and the other two Inijic Virtues on a sambuk down to the surface.

Certain rites had to be observed before they could enter the presence of a living god. Ardustagg's sanctum was like a great conch shell jutting out of the swamp and they had to pass through corkscrewing layers before reaching its heart. First the four Hutts crawled through a field of fire that cleansed all foreign agents from their thick hides. Then they swam through primeval swamps, which had not been disturbed since before the Hutts took to the stars. Then, once covered in the divine mud, they bathed in crystal spring water pumped from beneath Varl's crust.

Finally, after passing all three levels of purification, they were granted entrance into the Blazing One's presence.

Ardustagg the Immortal was over a thousand years old, and like all Hutts he only grew larger with age. The god in the center of the sanctuary sprawled six meters from nose to tail-end. The flesh which spilled out from beneath his layered white robes was a dark gray and laced with scars from centuries-old wars. Even Ardustagg's face bore battle-marks: a slash split his lower jaw in two, his massive tongue was tipped in serrated scars, and while his right eye was a massive orange orb, his left was a blackened pit.

He was the most beautiful creature Churabba had even seen. Simply by being in his presence she felt warmed by the Holy Lights. Ardos and Evona shone down through the sanctum's atrium, for all audiences with the Blazing One took place with both suns in the sky.

Kossak wiggled forward across the polished stone floor. "Oh Blazing One, thank you for blessing us with your presence," he said. "I have come to tell of the great deeds done for your glory."

It was how every visitation began. In a row behind Kossak, Churabba and the other Virtues prostrated themselves, faces and small hands against the stone.

Ardustagg's scarred mouth hinged open, and his basso voice said: "Speak."

Kossak summarized the year's accomplishments. Churabba's nephew was generous with his praise; he lauded Churabba for her taming of the Nikto, his spawn Dojundo the Desolator for her culling of the Klatooinan rebels and Axkatta the Pecunious for his peerless managing of the Inijic's finances. The accountant's skinny brown tail twirled in pleasure as Kossak lauded him.

Ardustagg listened without speaking. His mountain of flesh moved only with breath; even his eye was closed. But when Kossak made clear he was finished, the Blazing One said, "What of the creatures called humans? You have met with them, haven't you?"

"Churabba and I met their envoy on Ko Vari," Kossak explained.

"I know this," Ardustagg rumbled. "What are your thoughts? Speak plainly."

Kossak was good at that, when required. The young Hutt spread his arms and said, "Blazing One, they resemble many species we've domesticated in the past, but I don't believe we should confuse them for other bipeds. They are aggressively invasive and united under a strong leader. They've already spread across over a thousand words, making a simple cull—like Dojundo is so skilled at—impractical."

"Can they be domesticated?"

"That may also be difficult."

"Then we should exterminate them."

"Your wisdom is vast, Blazing One, and I believe that may be our only option… but it may cost us dearly."

Ardustagg released an angry belch. "Are you afraid of these bipeds? Should we start calling you Kossak the Cowardly?"

Kossak didn't flinch. "I merely suggest innovative methods might be required to deal with them. My aunt has acquired human agents who have been feeding her information from within their empire. Aunt, would you speak to this?"

Churabba waited until Ardustagg grunted approval before she raised her head and crawled beside her nephew. "Blazing One," she said, "my spies brought fresh reports just before we arrived. They said that there has recently been an upheaval amongst the humans. Their emperor, a man called Xim, was nearly over-thrown by enemies within his ranks."

"He was challenged to combat?"

"It was not a ritual duel, but an uprising. A great battle was fought over a distant planet called Ranroon."

"These humans fight wars among themselves?" Ardustagg's fat hands became fists. "Despicable."

She had to agree; when conflict between Hutt hosts became too great, they would be resolved by duels between representatives from either clan. But those were ordered affairs blessed by Ardustagg, not the wanton slaughter humans wrought on their kin.

Churabba added, "They have battled for decades, and many resisted Xim's rule. However, that period seems to be over. Xim survived the uprising and anointed himself daritha of all mankind."

"He imitates the Wardens? He should have better choice in idols."

"I agree, Blazing One. Xim appears to have complete control, but I am sure some cracks remain. I am tryinig to contact the rebels who are fleeing his empire after their failed mutiny."

"They may be useful tools," Kossak added.

Ardustagg opened his orange eye and turned it to the Throne. "The humans abut your systems, and those of the Hestilic. I will leave them to your hosts. Deal with these bipeds however you wish: trickery, brute force, or something else."

The massive eye swung shut like a door closing on the conversation, but Kossak protested, "Blazing One, you know relations between our host and the Hestilic have been… difficult. To counter the humans I believe all hosts must act together, united."

Without opening his eye Ardustagg said, "You sound frightened of these bipeds, Throne."

"Never," Kossak insisted.

"Then work with the Hestilic to deal with them. Show us how clever you really are."

"Yes, Blazing One," Kossak said unhappily, but bowed in obedience.

Ardustagg made a gesture with one hand, signaling the visitation was over. All four Hutts turned and crawled out of his presence. Heavy doors closed behind them.

They waited by the shores of the crystal spring for Kossak to say something, but when he did not Dojundo volunteered, "Sire, I will begin training my armies against the humans as soon as you give the order. The new Nikto pilgrims make excellent warriors."

"I have already started analyzing their behavior," Axkatta added. "We can discern what they value and what they'll fight for."

Kossak turned blue eyes to his aunt. "Are you certain it was the Nikto who stole your felucca?"

"The footage from Terman station was clear," she said.

But they knew it was not a definite answer. Kossak's tail twisted thoughtfully. "These humans are adept at subterfuge. They even send their emperor's pet as an envoy, hoping we'll underestimate them. But I will not do so. We will study these humans and probe their weaknesses before doing anything drastic."

"And then we will cull them?" asked Dojundo.

"Perhaps. But it may take a war the likes of which we haven't seen since the Demon's time."

Neither Kossak nor Dojundo had seen that war, but Churabba had. She'd never forgot the desolation of M'Hala or the final inferno over Hell. She noted the excitement in Kossak's voice, guarded but there. It was right that a Hutt should seek to live up to glory of his forebears, but there was danger in young worms' dreams. She prayed the humans were not as formidable as Kossak feared— and hoped—they were.

Perhaps dark days would come, perhaps not. Churabba decided to savor Holy Lights of Varl for as long as she was able, for as long as the suns blazed down.

-{}-

Returning to Morning Star was like stepping back in time. Erakas even reached at the village at dawn, just as when he'd first arrived full of hope and need. Gedor's mountain still surged against the dim red sky; the ruined ancient spaceship remained half-submerged in the earth; the villagers roused early from their homes to see who had come to them.

Erakas emerged from the truck first and then Tam'pres. The crowd kept close, expecting more, but there were no more. Tam'pres answered their wordless question with an equally silent shake of the head. Many turned away, disappointed and sad. A tall Saheelindeel female emerged from the group and took Tam'pres in a frantic embrace. They whispered words in their own language and though Erakas couldn't understand them, he knew their meaning.

Tam'pres was saying that his father and the others had died bravely, and though they should be mourned they should also be celebrated for their heroism. There was no greater sacrifice than the one they'd committed on Ranroon. Because of it, a war had ended and many lives were saved.

The young Saheelindeel had told Erakas these things on the long journey back to Morning Star. They mostly ruminated on their losses in silence, but Erakas wanted to make one thing clear before the end.

"I'm sorry about what happened to your father," he'd told Tam'pres as their truck rumbled through the night. "If I could have done anything to prevent it, I would have."

Tam'pres had simply nodded. Next Erakas had asked him, "Will you and your mother stay at Morning Star?"

And the Saheelindeel had said, "It's the only home I've known."

It was still jarring to be reminded how young Tam'pres was; just a few years older than Sohren, Pres'carn had said. But despite his short life, Tam'pres seemed almost an adult. Certainly he'd endured pain no child should have to suffer.

Erakas knew he could never replace Tam'pres's father, and Tam'pres could certainly never fill the hole left by Sohren's death, but as he watched the youth whisper comfort to his mother he swore to watch over Tam'pres and guide him the best he could. He owed it to Tam'pres, and more he owed it to Pres'carn, who had gifted him so much. Even now Erakas couldn't grasp the enormity of it all.

But maybe someone did. He looked at the rising mountain, whose details emerged slowly from predawn gloom. He didn't see the tiny, gnomelike creature living there but felt Gedor clearly. His teacher was beckoning him.

So, without saying a word to the villagers, Erakas began to climb the mountain. It ridges, contours, and faded pathways came back to him easily. The sun rose higher, spilling detail and warmth across the slope.

He didn't have to go all the way to Gedor's cave. He heard the humble clearing of a throat, turned, and saw the creature standing behind him, three-clawed hands folded in front of him.

"Feel me, did you?" Gedor asked.

"No," Erakas admitted. "I lost track of you."

"Then still things to learn have you."

"I know. That's why I'm here."

They were on a side of the mountain facing the village. They were not too high up, and when Erakas squinted he could make out Tam'pres and San'fel surrounded by a crowd giving condolences.

"We lost Pres'carn out there," he said. "And Hedrix and the rest. Only Tam'pres survived."

"Responsibility you feel for the boy."

"And for his father. I wish I could have saved him, but there was so much going on then. I couldn't save everyone at once."

"Nor can you. Learn this you must to move forward. Accept it and forgive yourself."

With time he might be able, for Pres'carn's death. For Sohren's, he doubted he ever would. Still watching those distant figures, he said, "They gave everything for me. I didn't even ask for it. I didn't give them anything in return either."

"But you did. Know this, you do."

He remembered a cold shoreline, a bitter confession. "Pres'carn had a lot to atone for," he admitted.

"As did they all. Come to me, they do, for that reason. Drawn are the ones who are broken inside, wracked with regret, or craving answers. Healing is what they need and healing I give, or try to. Healing you give as well, Erakas."

He took a deep breath and hugged himself against a cool wind. "I thought you were a prophet, not a healer."

"Many talents have I." Not bragging, not coy; simply stating. "Repaying a debt Pres'carn was. His own choice he made to die in service of a greater cause. Disrespect his wish you should not."

"I'm a 'greater cause' now? I'm not sure I feel comfortable with that."

"Comfortable you may never be, but it is true. Rare our power is, and precious. Waste it, we cannot."

He thought of Essan. She was probably on Desevro now, at Xim's side. He still couldn't believe the bargain she'd made, or her intention of keeping it, but he wasn't sure she was wrong to. He'd told Reina earlier that Essan had always been the stronger one. She was proving it even now.

"Lost, you feel," Gedor said simply.

Erakas smiled, embarrassed and tired. "For a while I got used to being around people who couldn't read minds."

"Your mind? Pah. On your face it all is. Return here you have, but for what purpose?"

"I learned so much from you in such a short time, Master. It helped us change history. I want to learn more."

"But for what purpose?"

Gedor leaned forward. His eyes bored into Erakas and the Jedi nearly flinched, but he held that gaze and summoned the best answer he could.

"The galaxy needs me," he said. "It needs us. I want to be the best Jedi I can be, for all their sakes'." He waved an arm at the crowd below: the needy, the mourners, those still seeking redemption.

"A Jedi I am not," Gedor's green mouth quirked, "but teach you I shall. And repay my debt."

"A debt to me?"

"Yes. Long has been my life, and gone my people are. Lonely I have become. Mighty the Force is, but also a poor companion. Always I have seen myself as a teacher and a guide. Finally have I someone to teach." He smiled. "Almost young do I feel."

So do I, Erakas almost said. It would have been such a silly thing to say to this ancient alien, but it was true. Since Sohren's death—really, since he'd left Tython years ago—his life had seemed smaller and the Force less powerful. Now, despite all he'd lost and the grief still wringing his heart, he felt he was on the verge of becoming something new again. It was a sensation he'd not known since his training with Master Sohr. Perhaps, just as Gedor was meant to guide, he was meant to be guided.

He didn't confess this to Gedor. Likely his teacher already knew. Silence held between them but it was calm, comfortable.

The sky was a smooth canvas of red cooling to blue. There were no clouds at all, and that was why a tiny blur in the northern sky grabbed his attention. Erakas watched it with narrowed eyes, wondering if it was a comet or spaceship streaking high through the sky. Those were rare on Idux, desolate world this was.

Worry shot through him. Xim knew of him and might be seeking him out, regardless of the pact he'd made with Essan. Worse, Xim might be looking for the Star Forge, which was only a few star systems away. He and Tam'pres had ridden one of its fresh-off-the-line Federation-model shuttlecraft to Idux, and the encryption key for the Force's hyperpace beacon was inside the computers. That ship was sitting on the far side of this continent, nestled in the spaceport, and if Xim's people decided to ransack it there was no way Erakas could get there in time.

He almost cursed aloud. After all he'd been through, all he'd learned, he shouldn't have felt this helpless.

But as he watched that speck in the sky he realized it wasn't slanting in the direction of the spaceport. In fact, it was barely moving at all. What it was doing was growing bigger.

This time Erakas did snap a curse. He asked Gedor. "What is that thing?"

"Know I do not."

"Are they dangerous? Can you sense anything?"

Long ears bent back. "Can you?"

This was a poor time to be tested. Erakas reigned in panic and reached out with the Force. He tried and failed to sense the ship's intention but there was a power there, one he'd barely felt in six years. Whoever was aboard that ship had the Force at their command.

It was coming closer. Erakas could hear the dim but growing roar of its engines as it tore through the atmosphere. Then he felt something else in the Force, something very familiar, and without another word to Gedor he ran down the slope.

He went as fast as he could, twice using the Force to save him from a last-minute wipe-out down the scree. When he finally reached the village the ship was roaring overhead and people were out in the open, gawking at the spacecraft overhead.

They had every reason to. It was like nothing they'd ever seen: oval-shaped, with long flat mandibles jutting from the bow, a hull of smooth curved metal. Most amazing of all, it was hovering directly above them, motionless in the sky, suspended by antigravity repulsors beyond their conception.

It was the Hand of Light.

Erakas ran to the front of the crowd and began waving his arms. Then he had the thought to pull out his lightsaber, ignited it, and fanned its luminous blade. Someone must have seen it, or perhaps they'd felt him, because the Hand changed position and began to lower itself on a clearing at the town's edge. Villagers hesitated but Erakas jogged to meet it, grinning like an unashamed idiot. Others saw this and followed in his wake, Tam'pres among them.

The Hand of Light lowered four legs and settled on them easily. He rounded to the front just before a landing ramp began to drop from its belly. Erakas was still grinning. He couldn't wait to see Master Talyak again, to show him all he'd learned and to learn whatever wisdom the Talid had gained on his years of sojourning through the stars. He'd never expected to see Talyak again, which made today a miracle.

But the first being to come down the ramp was not Talyak. It was a gray-skinned Zabrak with horns jutting from his lank dark hair and twin scars on one cheek. He looked at his surroundings with wonder. Next came two humans, a man and a woman both near Erakas's age, one with a lightsaber attached to his belt, the latter with a traditional Tythan blade. After them was a small Devaronian female, and then a Noghri with one hand cut off at the stump.

He did not know any of these people, but he was certain they were Jedi.

The last to step out of the Hand of Light was the sole familiar one. Tall, long-limbed, with three-clawed hands and feet, a domed head, eyes on stalks and blue-green skin, was the one called Shen.

Some of the villagers recognized the image of a Tyrant and pulled back in fear, but Erakas walked straight to the Rakata with a hand extended. Shen took his grasp and shook it, baring small pointed teeth in a fierce but earnest smile.

"I can't believe this," Erakas said. "How did you find us?"

"It took time, and the Force." Shen said in Tythan. Erakas had never heard that tongue from that mouth before. It was like a whole new person was speaking.

"All these people are Jedi, aren't they?"

"Yes. We discovered them in our travels."

"Master Talyak… is he..."

"Still journeying, on another ship like this. He aims to join you, too."

"He does? When will he come?"

"In time. He believes he has more to explore, and more Jedi to gather."

"And he wants to bring them here?"

"Yes." Shen's voice became heavy. "He believes a great trial will happen."

"Whose trial? Ours?"

"Perhaps the Force." Shen put a claw on his shoulder. The Rakata who'd left years ago had never seemed this… human. "There is much to tell you, and I am sure much we should hear. But first, your teacher was a Kwa named Sohr, yes?"

Erakas blinked. "Yes. He's dead."

"I know. I was told," Shen said, "by her."

Erakas turned to see the Devaronian female, face covered with downy white fur, looking at him with big expectant eyes. She looked demure, almost frail, and even younger than Erakas had when he'd left Tython. But she had the tunic of the Jedi, and a Jedi's weapon at her belt.

No, not just any Jedi's weapon. His Master had rarely used the sword he kept hidden in his walking-stick, but to Erakas it was unmistakable.

"This is Vediah," Shen said, "his last apprentice."

The Devaronian hesitated, then snapped a short bow. "It's an honor to meet you, Erakas."

"Did Master Sohr tell you about me?"

"Only a little." Her smile was shy, then sad. "I was there when he died."

"So was I," Erakas whispered, and she knew what he meant. But he couldn't be sad when a miracle had literally dropped from the sky. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Vediah. Life is full of surprises, isn't it?"

"I like to think it's the Force," she said.

"It is, I think," said Shen. "More than either of you know."

"What do you mean?" Erakas asked.

Shen tilted his head back toward the sun, closed both eyes, and breathed the air. "The Force was our guide here, so we know very little… but what is the name of this world?"

"It's called Idux," Erakas said.

"Idux. Yes, that was it." Shen breathed deep again and said, "I was born on this world."

"What? I thought you were from Endregaad."

"I spent most of my life there, yes, but my people called it Possal. In our tongue, that means 'solitude,' because that was what Endregaad gave us."

Until a generation ship, three Jedi explorers, and three ignorant spacers butted in. How different all their lives would have been if not for that.

"I grew up on Endregaad," Shen said, "but in my earliest years my clan took shelter here. This is where we collected the crystals to power our lightsabers, and where we my mother gathered our peoples' old texts into archives. The humans called it Idux, I remember that, but to us, this world was called Ossus."

The Rakata stared at the sky with reverence and wonder. Gently Vediah asked, "What does that name mean?"

"It means 'watchtower,' because it was from here that we watched history unfold."

Erakas turned his eyes to the mountain. The sun was high enough to light its slope and he could just make out Gedor's tiny figure making its way down, as fast as those stubby legs would allow. For years this had been Gedor's watchtower as well as Shen's, but he knew, with a surge of hope, it could be so much more. They were only a handful of Jedi here, a mere seven, but that was enough. Jedi grew stronger when they were together. Two could tip the balance of a battle. Seven, plus Gedor, plus Essan, could move history itself.

The sun shone strong and clear in his eyes. Erakas smiled because he was no longer alone.

"Come with me," he said. "Gather the others. I want you to meet our new teacher."

-{}-

Jaminere and Xim met as they often did, in the study on the fourth floor of the palace on Desevro. In the light of a waning afternoon they talked about the purges that were still ongoing, the difficulties of investigating the mutiny when the prime actors were all dead, Oziaf's latest envoy to the Expansion zone, and the opportunities and pitfalls the Red Witch might provide.

The one thing they didn't talk about was war: not the battles they'd fought, nor the battles that might yet come.

Jaminere didn't believe war was over. It never was. But as he sat across from Xim he wondered if they'd finally reached a limit. When their conversation trickled to nothing the daritha sank into his chair, stared through Jaminere, and slowly nursed his glass of Cadinthian ale. The slanting light was not kind to Xim. It highlighted the lingering bruises that had been painted over during his coronation, the bags under his eyes, the careless gray stubble on his jaw. He'd been moving his left arm awkwardly the entire conversation but tried to hide it. For the first time Jaminere could remember, the daritha of all mankind looked old.

He had every reason to. He'd been on the brink of his realizing his innermost dream when it had all be snatched away. Jaminere had been at the front rank watching the coronation, and when Xim lowered the ancient Tyrant crown upon his own head he'd seemed the loneliest man in the universe.

As he sipped his brandy and watched Xim's tired face, Jaminere wondered what had wounded his friend more: the loss of his bride, or the loss of his father. Xim had kept Xer alive in his golden cage for decades, for reasons Jaminere would never understand. He only knew that whatever end Xim had imagined for his father, it was not the pirate king's pyre over Ranroon.

Jaminere tried very hard not to think about his wife and son. He didn't know if he'd really loved them when they were alive, because love had always been a mystery-word, definable only by its absence. He only knew that he'd destroyed them, just as surely as he'd destroyed his first family, whom he'd hated.

He was not superstitious, but Jaminere wondered if he were cursed, and destined to destroy anyone who came close to him. He looked at Xim's bleak face and wondered which had spread the curse to the other and if it really mattered, because the curse had seized them both, like a fist that enclosed the stars.

Both men sat in silence, together but alone, as twilight dropped them into deepening night.