For the last time in this Episode; I have not rights to the stuff here owned by Disney, EA, and Bioware. I make no money off of this work of fan fiction, I simply do it because I think it is fun to imagine a story where one of my favorite factions in science fiction gets plopped in a universe of one of my favorite game trilogies ever and I like sharing that idea with all of you. Thank you.
"You absolute failure of a Dark Lord!" Tempestus rages at Vafrem as the Dark Council sits within their chambers at the highest levels of the Sith Academy, "How in the Sith Hells did you screw up so spectacularly that you kill someone on accident while at a public event?! I thought knowing exactly what will happen next is your forte?!"
"Oh, give it a rest you over glorified tesla coil!" Vafrem snarls back, "You wouldn't have faired any better!"
"Maybe if you had been thinking with your brain instead of your libido, you might have actually gotten something out of the night but as it stands you have failed in every sense of the word."
"And you're so perfect? You are half the reason we have had issues getting the Citadel to back down on restraining us. You and that hair trigger temper of yours," Vafrem counters.
"You want a demonstration?!" Tempestus says as sparks ignite in his hand.
Dark energies radiate from Vafrem, "I don't need to beat you, just outlast you."
Ferrus' fist colliding against the table draws their attention with a loud bang, "Enough!"
"As fun as it is watching the two of you bicker like children to assign blame, it solves nothing," Chemos says.
The two Dark Lords grumble as they sit back down, "Did you at least getting anything useful from that SPECTRE to make it worthwhile?"
"Possibly," Vafrem replies.
"What do you mean possibly?!" Tempestus snaps at him.
"I've gone over every new memory in my head from Ales, that was her name if anyone cares, and I've noticed a pattern. Most of them are tilted in her favor even if it logically doesn't make any sense."
Chemos raises an eyebrow at this, "You think her memories have been altered?"
"Not intentionally," Vafrem responds, "I think I'm only seeing them from her perception of events. Some of the memories, especially earlier ones, feel filled in or choppy like her mind was just making assumptions based on more concrete memories. Therefore, it is not accurate, and The Force has confirmed it. So while I can give a general idea as to what it true and with The Force I can make a close estimate, it will never be completely accurate. Besides, it's not like we can use it for anything but our own knowledge, and Anita will likely have access to the records of all SPECTRE activities anyway. The best I can give us is a head start on developing methods to avoid them and advanced insight into asari culture."
"Good enough for me," Chemos says, "Half the things I do straddle the line of legality in Citadel space."
"And the other half being completely outlawed," Ferrus says.
"More or less," Chemos responds.
"Well one salvageable benefit at least from this disaster is that we know the asari will likely stay out of The Order's business," Tempestus says.
"Fair enough," Ferrus comments, "Chances are they won't even try to set foot on Korriban."
"Correct," Vafrem says, "We'll likely only have to deal with them personally on The Citadel itself."
"Are we going to have to make regular appearances in person at The Citadel?" Tempestus asks.
"Unfortunately, we will out of necessity," Vafrem replies, "However, we may want to be there regularly as well."
"Why is that?" Chemos inquires.
"I think we need to investigate The Citadel itself," Vafrem says, "We know that it was built by the Reapers or has at least been used by them in the past. However, with so much death there, we should have been able to sense something the moment we got near it, but we didn't. It took Atrior reaching into The Force itself to catch a glimpse into the true nature of the station."
"Yes," Tempestus nods, "You said that it felt like you were nearly blinded trying to see them."
Atrior nods.
"Similar to when I try to gain insight into them," Vafrem adds.
"Could they have some kind of ability to wipe away all essence of The Force?" Ferrus asks, "It wouldn't be unheard of. Darth Nihilus was a wound in The Force and could drain it from even planets, Emperor Vitiate concealed the existence of The Old Empire from the Jedi for centuries, and there were certain races that could block out The Force entirely."
"Hence why we need to investigate," Chemos comments, "The question is, how do we go about doing so right now? I doubt they will let us conduct experiments and examinations on the seat of their civilization."
"We must do it slowly, carefully," Vafrem answers, "There is one solution I can think of, and I think it may help keep all of our… Less than civilized work away from even more prying eyes."
"That being?" Tempestus inquires.
"We create an enclave of the Order upon The Citadel for alien Force Sensitives," Vafrem replies, "It would give us a perfect excuse to station all manner of lords from our pyramids on The Citadel itself and with an entire area dedicated to the study of The Force on the station, no one will ask too many questions about some light experimenting."
"And it will work as a vetting system for Force Sensitive aliens to keep potential spies off of Korriban while those that can be made completely loyal could be moved here for further training," Tempestus smiles.
"We grow our ranks and we build more influence directly within The Citadel," Chemos adds, "If we play our cards right, we can even convince The Council that this is a purely religious endeavor, and these peace addicted hypocrites wouldn't dare step on our culture's religious rights in broad daylight. Especially considering what hey let those barteran things get away with."
"Precisely," Vafrem nods, "And if it just so happens that a breakthrough is made or our input and powers are required, one of us can take a weekend to instruct the acolytes there."
"Acceptable," Ferrus says.
"Of course, you think that, considering you found the first Force sensitive alien in this galaxy," Tempestus jabs.
"It works for me," Chemos says as Atrior nods.
"Good. Now that we are in agreement, we must discuss the most important matter on our agenda," Tempestus says, "Admiral Septemus will be delivered to us in a matter of days, how are we going to execute him?"
"Let's test my dextro-amino mutagen prototype. If he doesn't die, we can still use him in some capacity," Chemos pounces at the opportunity.
"If you'll accept my aid, Tempestus, I can keep him alive as you electrocute him for as long as possible," Vafrem suggests.
"Tempting, Very Tempting," the sorcerer replies, "What about you Atrior?"
The assassin puts his hands on either side of his head and slowly pulls them apart.
"As much as I'd love to see this scum's brain torn apart, you're all thinking too short term," Ferrus says.
"We're thinking to short term?" Vafrem asks, "And what is your suggestion? Break every bone in his body?"
"Yes, but there is one more aspect to it."
Tempestus raises an eyebrow, "Well, don't keep us in suspense. Share it."
Ferrus smirks, "The carbon freezing chambers downstairs are large enough to fit a turian, correct?"
Everyone leans a bit forward at that, "Go on," Vafrem voices for the group.
(Line Break)
The once proud Admiral Septemus, well respected in the Hierarchy, good friend of Primarch Dominian, and would be conqueror, now marches off the ramp of a Sith shuttle into the halls of the Sith Academy, where many of his kind have met their horrific ends. The Sith in front of him practically drag him through the corridors while the one's behind kick him at every opportunity. Every lord they pass gets some kind of jab in, every instruction is halted so that the overseers and acolytes can sneer at him. Septemus curses the Sith, the Hierarchy, Sparatus, and the Spirits, and the galaxy in general for his humiliation.
Down into the lower levels he goes, passing less and less people as they take him further and further down, surprising the admiral, he'd expected this to be as public as possible. They finally come to a chamber wherein he finds the Dark Council standing beside a rectangular device in the wall. As he enters the presence of the Dark Lords, he feels terror and helplessness line never before. Each of them radiates hatred and anger the likes of which he's never before felt, each emitting an almost tangible aura of malice towards him. He realizes at this moment that death should be the least of his concerns.
"Leave us," Ferrus orders the warrior escorts.
They throw Septemus to the ground, bow, and depart, the door locking upon their exit. Ferrus steps forward as the machine whirls to life, letting out gases from its vents. The armored Dark Lord's rage emanates off of him in waves.
"If you have any courage left to speak your last words, do so now," Ferrus says with barely bridled ire.
Consumed by his fear, Septemus scrambles to his feet and runs back to the door, clawing at it to open.
"Nothing lost then," Ferrus growls.
With a yank of his arm, Ferrus pulls Septemus into the chamber with The Force and holds him in place. The machine beeps as Chemos inputs commands on the console and more gases vent out. Ferrus holds his open hand at Septemus as he struggles against his telekinetic powers. Just as the chamber releases the carbonite, the Dark Lord clenches his hand into a fist and Septemus screams in agony.
The cry lasts for half a second before the freezing chamber does its job and uncases his body in carbonite. Once complete, Ferrus waves his hand to clear the excessive gas and reveals his creation. The form encased in the slab can hardly be called a turian, more like pieces of a turian haphazardly forced together within the skin with no regard for symmetry, correctness, or order. The only part that resembles the former admiral is the face, which is frozen in a state of unrestrained pain and anguish. The Dark Lords circle the creation and extend their senses out to it.
"Still alive," Chemos says.
"And stuck in constant unimaginable suffering," Tempestus adds.
Atrior nods.
"I must say, I never considered you for an artist," Vafrem compliments, "What shall you call your Magnum Opus?"
Ferrus smirks at the carbonite prisoner, "Septemus, The Fool Who Thought He Could Conquer The Sith."
(Line Break)
The room Primarch Dominian looks out to his destroyed city from is not his normal office in the central government compound, having been ransacked and stripped down for any possible data by the Sith during the closing hours of the battle for Cipritine. No, it is one commandeered from one of the several administrators that were killed during the sacking of Palaven, his former subordinate's knick-knacks still adorning the otherwise spartan desk.
His eyes are filled with sorrow and rage at the state of everything. He internally curses Sparatus and the Council for letting the Sith walk away from their attack not only unscathed, but with a seat on The Citadel Council.
"Fools, all of them."
However, as much as he does not want to, he admits that it is better to have the Sith as allies they can watch, dubious as they may be, than direct enemies. Though the sight of Palaven's ruins cements in his mind a deep distrust of them. He will begrudgingly take them as allies, but their two races will never be friends. Not as long as he remains in command.
Before he can seethe more, an aid knocks on his door, "Sir, the reports you asked for."
Dominian turns away from the window and to his underling, "Can you give me a summary?"
"Yes sir," he replies as he activates his omni-tool, "As we feared, the industrial sector is completely wrecked, however a silver lining is that unlike where we suffered heavy orbital bombardment, most of the wreckage is still salvageable as the storm kept many of the buildings intact as it toppled them. Our first priority should be rebuilding there so that we can accelerate the rest of our efforts."
"Naturally," the Primarch replies.
"Slightly better news is that with minimal damage to the central government compound, we were easily able to manage the reconstruction efforts and we predict that we can have Cipritine back up to standard within the decade-"
"No!" the Primarch interrupts.
"Pardon, sir?"
"We are not getting the city, or the planet for that matter, back up to standard. Standard couldn't stop a hostile invasion force, why in the Sprits' names would we go back to that?"
"What do you mean, sir?"
"I mean that standard isn't enough anymore. We are not rebuilding our world back to what it was, we are building it better than ever. I want us to spare no expense acquiring and integrating any Sith technology we can get our hands on and turning our home world into an unbreakable fortress. No hostile alien force will ever take Palaven from us again. Understood?"
"Y-Yes Sir!" the man salutes with awe.
"Good, then scrub this mentality of, 'rebuilding,' we are improving everything from the ground up. In fact, our first order will be to tear down this place and use it for scrap metal to rebuild the industrial sector. Its replacement will be in every way an improvement on everything that has come before. After we have ungraded our planet, we must take extra measures to improve our combat doctrine."
"How so, sir?"
Dominian hums for a moment, "A full fleet of ours couldn't take a Sith colony, we need to understand how it is their defenses work. In fact, I want every commanding officer who fought in the battle of Shanxi as advisors on this project."
The aid looks through his omni-tool, "Unfortunately sir, with Admiral Septemus arrested by the Sith, that would only leave former Commodore Adrian Victus as the sole surviving command officer of that battle."
"Former?"
"He has transferred from the navy to the army upon his own request, sir."
"Well then get him in here as soon as possible, his insight may be valuable to the reconstruction efforts."
"Yes sir," the assistant salutes.
(Line Break)
Benezia's time becomes swamped in the endless bickering and pigheadedness of her peers within the Council of Matriarchs. Having done all that she can to bring the Sith and their technology into their grasps she is appalled at how her peers could willingly sit by and do nothing with it. One would think that with the introduction of new technologies, they would be the first to jump onto obtaining and then producing them having been the technological apex of The Citadel since its inception. One would be incorrect however, as the Matriarchs propose policies that stall Sith technology from entering into their business markets.
"Those detestable old Hags!" she seethes in her estate's office as she gets off her latest conference call, "We already know the turians have already prototyped Sith technology. Worse is that the Alliance has already begun flooding the market. We cannot afford to fall behind. It's no longer a matter of pulling from the beacon, it's about putting our researchers to work on adapting Sith technology into our own."
As she leans back in her chair to decide what to do with her open afternoon. Free time is scarce for her with the Sith entering the galactic stage, but the stars do align on occasion for her. She is just about to call her contacts within the Ezo trade when her door opens up to reveal her daughter, Liara.
"Sorry if I am disturbing you, mother…" she looks embarrassed as she speaks.
Benezia gives the first genuine smile she's had in days to her daughter as she stands from her desk, "Not at all, Little Wing, I simply wasn't expecting you here. I was just collecting myself after another meeting with the Council of Matriarchs. Come in, come in."
Benezia steps over to a set of comfortable couches near the window of her office and beckons Liara over to her, "My apologies, mother, I was just concerned since you are so busy these days, since the Sith joined The Citadel Council."
The Sith, the last thing Benezia wants to talk about with her daughter, "Hopefully it will all be winding down soon, though they don't seem to want to make it easy on me. You'd think they were absolutely averse to the status quo with how much they seem to want to defy everything."
"I find their culture to be quite fascinating, actually," Liara says with a bit of wonder in her eyes, "It's so alien compared to all the other races, a part of me just feels something new when I read about it."
"Once they have fully integrated into The Citadel, I'm sure they will begin to conform more to our sensibilities," she dismisses to move on to another topic, "What about you, Liara? How are you fairing at the university?"
"I'm doing as well as always," Liara nods back.
"Are you keeping up with your meditations?"
Her smile falls a bit, "Yes… They help when I get the urges."
"How is your research coming along?"
"Well…" Liara hesitates, "There is something I wanted to talk about with you regarding that, mother."
"What is it, Liara?"
"I was wondering… I've been reading up on the Sith since their history was released to the greater galaxy, especially their 'Old Empire.' Their ancient civilization that was wiped out 50,000 years ago, just like the protheans."
"Liara, that is clearly just their mythology, like the Goddess Athame to our ancestors," Benezia says, "Purely…"
"Cultural," Liara finishes, receiving a soft glare from her mother, "Sorry, I didn't mean to do that again. However, for the Sith, it's all too specific and they do have archeological evidence of a civilization that existed in their home system before them. If I could verify that this 'Old Empire' did exist at that time and that it was indeed completely independent from the protheans, it will go a long way in supporting my theories."
Benezia's eyebrow rises in realization, "You want me to commission some sort of expedition to the Sith home system."
"I just need your endorsement of it," Liara says, "I've budgeted out the resources I would need and I can fund it with research grants from the university. I would only need an endorsement it to acquire them."
Benezia considers her words, "Liara, this isn't a prothean dig sight deep in council space, this is the home system of a race that very recently was shooting at the turians. I'm not so certain that they or the university would be very open to the idea of such an expedition at this time. Once tensions have been relaxed, perhaps then this kind of excursion could be considered."
Liara's expression falls, "Mother…"
"It's not forever-"
"Why do you insist on lying to me?" Liara interrupts, "I can always tell."
Benezia fights back a flinch, "Liara, nothing I've said is false."
"I know that is not the reason you do not wish for me to go, mother," Liara accuses her, "Is it really too much to be out of your sight for even one expedition?! I'm not a child anymore."
Benezia sighs, "Liara, you're right, there is another reason I don't want you to go to the heart of Sith space. They're not like the rest of the Citadel races."
Benezia leans in close to Liara as she whispers her next words, "And for someone with your… condition, they wouldn't hesitate to trap you in their webs."
Shame crosses Liara's face, "I'm not a monster, mother."
"I know, Little Wing, I know," Benezia soothes her, "But the Sith can be. The only reason that the council has granted them their station is to mitigate the damage they can do to the wider galaxy if left unchecked and to prepare for any possible power plays should they choose to challenge us. They are dangerous and you will have no contact with them until they have been civilized."
"But Mother, this could lend so much to my life's work," Liara counters.
"You have so much life ahead of you Liara," Benezia replies, "There will be many opportunities to prove yourself."
"But this is all I've ever wanted, I can't just let it pass me by without doing anything," Liara says as the air around her stirs.
"I know," Benezia looks away with a genuine melancholy, "But sometimes to do what is best for the galaxy, we must make hard sacrifices."
Liara turns her defeated gaze to the ground, "That didn't stop you from keeping me here to keep your rapport with the other matriarchs…"
A low blow, made in anger, but Benezia lets it slide considering what she's asking of her daughter, "Liara, please promise me that you will drop this."
Her daughter lifts her head, though not enough for Benezia to see her eyes, "I promise that I won't bring this up with you again, mother. You won't have to worry about it, I promise."
"Thank you, it truly is for the best dear," Benezia says.
Liara gives her a halfhearted nod, "I should return to my work, with one major lead gone, I need to find another soon."
She turns to leave but her mother stops her, "Liara, you don't have to leave immediately. I have some time if you would like to stay."
"I'm sorry, mother, I fear I wouldn't be the best company right now, perhaps after I've found something worth sharing."
Her daughter departs from her with haste. Alone once again, Benezia lets herself release an undignified groan as she rests her face in her hands. The lack of company in her off time has become routine for her, perhaps too routine.
"My Little Wing… I wish she could just understand that these things are not as simple as she wants them to be."
She stands and returns to her desk, taking the bottle of Thessian wine on her table and a glass with her. She pours herself a small drink before she sits in her chair and sips at it. After a moment, she activates her omni-tool and pulls up her contacts in the Council of Matriarchs. Her eyes rest upon the name 'Aethyta' for a moment before dismissing the screen.
"Liara's troubles are with me," Benezia tells herself, "I should be the one to alleviate them."
(Line Break)
As all active operations 'officially' come to a close, the majority of the Sith military consolidates around Arctarus Station finalizing their losses and reconfiguring their fleets for the protection of their acquired space. Aboard the station, Vice Admiral Hackett arrives at the rather well guarded door of Minister Graham. The guards report his arrival, and the door opens up.
"Vice Admiral, come in," Minister Graham calls from inside.
Hackett enters and stands straight as an arrow in a spotless dress uniform, his Star of Korriban on proud display. He pales somewhat when he sees the holograms of the Dark Council standing in the room. He steels his nerves and bows.
"Minister, Milords," he says.
"At ease, sailor," Graham says, "Thank you for coming, and congratulations on your achievements. The quarians were instrumental in our attack on Palaven and will continue to be great allies moving forward."
"Thank you, sir, but I did what any Sith officer in my position should have done," he replies.
"Yes, you did," Tempestum says, "But that does not discount what you have achieved."
"Any number of officers could have met the quarians," Chemos elaborates, "But it was you who made contact, you who took the steps necessary to secure their allegiance, and you who gave us our swift and complete victory over the turians."
"Your leadership and decisions indicate intelligence, foresight, and creativity in the face of the unknown," Vafrem comments his expression somewhat dour, "You embody what a commander should be, and all your superiors believe such."
"The military needs leadership like yours," Ferrus adds, "A storm is coming that will make the First Contact War, look like a schoolyard brawl. We want you in command when that conflict comes."
Atrior nods at Hackett as Graham steps forward, "In light of your achievements and your reputation and renown among both the military and the Order of the Sith Lords, we hereby grant you the rank of Admiral of the Sith Alliance Navy."
"Sir! Milords!" Hackett gasps and bows, "I am truly honored, I would never dream of being worthy."
"Raise your head, Admiral," Graham says, "Such needless humility is unbecoming of an Alliance officer of your rank. You earned this, now claim it, and prove why it is yours."
Hackett stands at attention and salutes, "I shall."
"Good, you'll be given command of one of our new patrol fleets once we have finished breaking up and reorganizing the 1st Assault Fleet. If you would like to request any specific officers as your direct subordinates, you'll have a few weeks to put together a list and we shall see what we can do."
"Understood, Sir."
"Good, dismissed, Admiral," Ferrus says.
"There has been a room prepared for you to serve as your temporary office aboard the station, my assistant will guide you there."
The door opens up and a skinny man directs Hackett to a mostly empty room on the next floor down. Hackett sits in the chair and starts work on compiling a list of names he wants in his chain of command when a call interrupts.
"Admiral, sorry to bother you but I'm currently holding an incoming holo-call from a…" she squints down at a data-pad, "Rael Zorah Vas Derfri? He's an alien sir, but he said you knew him."
"I do know him, put him on," Hackett replies before Rael's form appears on the holo-projector.
"ViceAdmiral Hackett," Rael says.
"Captain Zorah, it's good to see you again," Hackett begins, "However, as of today it's just Admiral."
"A promotion well awarded, if I may be so bold," Rael responds, "Congratulations, my friend, I am happy for you."
The last part gives the Sith man pause, "Thank you. Though I doubt you called just to say hello."
"Yes," Rael replies, "The Admiralty will be moving to your Arcturus Station to meet for further diplomatic talks as well as finalizing the exchange of the Harrowers as payment. I will be attending as a chief diplomat due to my experiences with your people. It is my understanding that you are stationed there for the time being?"
"That would be correct," Hackett nods.
"Then would it be too much trouble to bring you aboard the Raya and introduce you to my wife and daughter?" Rael asks, "Nothing too invasive, just a quick meeting as I'm sure you're busier than ever with your new duties."
Hackett blinks at the request, "That is… Unexpected. Surely, I'm not…"
"Admiral, if I may," Rael affirms, "Your race and you specifically have given my people the first real hope we've had in over 300 years. I humbly ask the opportunity for my family to meet the man responsible for that hope, Admiral Steven'Hackett vas Malgus."
Hackett bites the inside of his lip and mules over the thoughts running in his head, "I believe I can spare some time for that."
The grave air about the quarian man brightens, "Most excellent, Admiral."
"Also, Rael, you're not a part of my command so you can drop the titles. It's just, Steven, to my friends."
While he couldn't see his smile, Hackett could see the spirits raised in his quarian friend.
(Line Break)
Not in thousands of years have the tombs of Korriban been so active with the burial of of its people. While the galaxy has seen the imposing strength of The Sith Alliance, the reality is that the losses are heavy. The loss and subsequent funeral for Lord Jason Shepard is no different from the hundreds throughout the war. Black adorns the couple dozen attendees as the sun shines through the hab-dome above.
Separated into a freshly dug section near the perimeter of the Sith Academy, a tomb hewed from stone is closed, the door baring the heraldry of a warrior in combat against alien threats. An inscription on the door reads; Jason Shepard, Warrior, Though Felled in Battle, His Deeds are Remembered.' With his small tomb closed, it becomes one of many baring the warriors who lost their lives in the battles of The First Contact War. David Anderson keeps his rage in check as the entombment is complete, and Jason Shepard is laid to rest once and for all.
As some depart or exchange words with one another, Anderson seeks out a pregnant woman near the front. The man's widow, Hannah Shepard.
"Ma'am," Anderson bows his head to Hannah.
She takes a moment and looks him down, "David, or Lord Anderson isn't it now? Congratulations."
"It will always be just David for you Ma'am," he replies, "Besides, I didn't exactly earn it. They ascended many veteran apprentices from the war, I feel like it would have been more earned had I actually been able to save Master Shepard."
"Nonsense," Hannah replies, "Lord Grissom spoke very highly of your accomplishments during the final battle. Said that you rivaled Jason at the time of his ascension and that you deserved it."
"Thank you for your kind words, Ma'am," he nods down at the boy by her side, "Hello, John."
The boy is dressed in black, as per the occasion, and staring up at the Sith Lord. Anderson locks eyes with the boy's molten gold and red eyes, the eyes of a true Sith. His hair is buzzed down to the scalp, much like his late father's but a tone or two lighter like his mother's. He says nothing in response and points his eyes at the ground. The Force, however, stirs around him in response to his tumultuous emotions.
"John don't be rude," Hannah says.
Anderson holds up his hand, "It's fine ma'am. I know my master's loss was hard on me, I can only imagine what he is feeling right now."
Speaking about him angers the boy further and the air grows tense, until Hannah recoils and holds her swollen stomach. John's attention turns to her in a second and he holds onto her tight.
"I'm sorry…"
Anderson reaches his senses out and understands, the unborn child is strong in The Force and reacted to their brother's rage. He summons a chair and offers it to her.
"Much appreciated, Milord," she says as she takes a seat, "John, you need to control yourself, especially around your sister."
"I know…" tears start leaking from his eyes, "I just… I just want dad back! It's not fair! Why's dad gone?!"
The air stirs up again but Hannah can't summon up the emotional strength to reprimand him. Anderson, however, puts his hand on the boy's shoulder. John calms down as David takes a knee onto the red sand at their feet. The two sets of golden eyes lock on to one another.
"That's a fundamental truth of The Force, John," David says, "Life isn't fair. It never was and never will be. There is always something stronger than you. Things get hard, but that makes you stronger."
John's nostrils flair, "Are saying dad's weak?"
Anderson shakes his head, "Your father was not weak by any stretch, but he always believed he could grow stronger, and that anger was one of the tools we can use. Death comes for us all one day, the question is are we prepared to overcome it? The galaxy doesn't care and only you can determine if you have the power to face it."
For a brief moment the young boy's eyes are filled with an ambition and strength of a man several times his age, "I want that power. I never want to feel sad again and I want to keep mom and my baby sister safe. I want to make sure no one I love dies ever again!"
Anderson smiles at John, "And what are you willing to do for that power?"
John glares up at him, "Anything."
"Good answer, one that your father would be proud of," David says, "If that is your desire, I will get you there."
"Milord/David?" both John and Hannah inquire.
Anderson rises to his feet, causing both mother and son to look up to him, "I made a promise to your father before he died, that I'd make you into a Lord among Lords, the pinnacle of what a Sith can be. From this moment on I will handle your training to prepare you for the academy. When you take the trials and pass with exemplary results, I will take you on as my apprentice and train you into the finest Lord that the Order has ever seen. If you truly have the strength of will to obtain that kind of power, John Shepard, take my hand and rise up to fulfill your destiny."
Anderson extends his hand to John, staring him straight in the eyes. John looks at the hand, then Anderson, and back again. The Force itself stirs between the two of them and pulls John towards the young Lord. He steps forward and grabs onto the man's much larger hand, his golden eyes filled with a storm of intense emotion.
"Teach me, Master."
Que the Star Wars end credit music!
Stick a fork in this episode because, It is DONE! A huge thanks to everyone who has been here from the beginning and given feedback on this story. As only my second fic on this sight, and the first I've attempted in a long while, the constructive criticism helps. Sorry about being so erratic with updates in the later half, so much changed and needed to be rewritten along the way, but I am happy with how it turned out and I hope y'all are too. While this episode is officially over, I will probably make one last chapter as a massive end of story author's notes to address any final reviews and expound on any lore of this fanon if asked. It may be a while before Episode II rolls out, but I will try to create an anthology fic with all the little stories in between the chapters and episodes that didn't make it into the main story. These won't be necessary to the story but more like fun ideas that would happen throughout this fan fiction universe. Hope you all like reading, May The Force be with You, and Death to the Reapers!
See y'all next time!