On the bridge of the Dread Son, Agent Malden looked at the endless swirl of energies that was all he could see through the viewport as the ship sailed through hyperspace. Soon, they would arrive back in Perlia.
Malden wasn't Force-sensitive, but he didn't need it to feel the impatience radiating from where Lady Vaylin was seated at the head of the bridge. This trip to Tatooine had been the longest the young woman had spent away from Darth Cain since she'd become his apprentice, and it was clear she didn't like it one bit. That the crew was capable of working while in the presence of a fretting Sith was a testament both to their skills and how far Valkorion's daughter had come under Darth Cain's tutelage : Malden had heard the stories of her time as High Justice of Zakuul, and the bodies – friends or foes – she'd left in her wake wherever she went.
To the best of Malden's knowledge (which was quite extensive), Lady Vaylin hadn't tortured a subordinate in a fit of rage in years, and hadn't killed one on the spot since she'd become Darth Cain's apprentice. Which, really, told you everything you needed to know about the kind of miracle the Sith Lord was capable of : back in the Empire, even the most stable Sith were responsible for at least some not-so-friendly fire accidents.
Of course, Vaylin had killed plenty of Imperials after joining the Lord of Terror, but none of them had been working for Darth Cain, so that was fine – and besides, there were very few among Darth Cain's followers who hadn't done the same at some point or another, Malden very much included.
Once, Malden had been known as Cypher Twenty-Three, an agent of Imperial Intelligence, the shadowy, omnipresent organization that had been the source of many of the Republic's worst defeats during the First Great Galactic War. Most of the agency's operatives had acted independently, performing missions assigned to them by their handlers on Dromund Kaas and doing whatever was necessary to keep the wheels of the Empire turning, but there had always been a group among them tasked with interfacing with the Sith who actually ran the Empire in the Emperor's name. Which was how, at the dawn of the Second Galactic War, Malden had found himself assigned to Darth Cain and shipped off straight to the front lines, tasked with using his skills and contacts to support the Sith Lord's activities in whatever way Cain willed it.
Before his death, Darth Erebus had gone through Intelligence operatives at an alarming rate, but the victories he'd won for the Sith Empire had been considered worth the cost – that, and every attempt to eliminate him had been seen through and failed disastrously. Malden hadn't expected Darth Cain to be any different from his Master : if anything, given that he had not only killed Erebus according to most rumors (which was a transgression against the ways of the Sith, although their interpretation of their own rules was always shifting at best), but he had gotten away with it, and been elevated to the rank of Darth right out of his apprenticeship by none other than the Emperor himself.
Everyone who knew of Darth Cain's existence at the time had expected him to be an even worse monster than Darth Erebus – later, Malden had learned that the first Republic army the Lord of Terror had faced had nearly broken ranks the moment they'd realized they were facing the Hand of Destiny's successor. But, like every Chiss sent by the Ascendancy as part of their treaty with the Empire, Malden had been willing to lay down his life in the course of his duties.
However, Darth Cain had been nothing like Erebus at all. He was powerful, yes, that much was unquestionable. But he didn't execute his subordinates seemingly at random, and whenever someone dared to raise a question or objection about the course of action he'd charted, he actually listened to their advice and took it into account. Which really shouldn't have been as much of a surprise as it had been.
Even Cain's tactics were nothing like Erebus', for which Malden was deeply thankful. He might have been willing to follow orders from his lawful superiors regardless of their nature, but there was no doubt in his mind that he slept much easier under the Lord of Terror's command than he would've under the Vile One (a sobriquet bestowed upon Darth Erebus by the Republic, and which the Sith Lord had embraced whole-heartedly).
Instead of using Sith rituals and weaponizing cruelty on a planetary scale, Darth Cain used actual, solid tactics combined with creative thinking and frequent strokes of instinctive genius, always leading from the front. Statistically speaking, every simulation model Malden had access to was certain the Sith Lord should have died decades ago, yet no matter what the galaxy threw at him, he always ended up not just surviving, but triumphing time and again.
It was little wonder then that he was worshipped by the troops under his command, whose lives he hoarded with a greed worthy of a member of the Dark Council. Unlike most Sith, who regarded the soldiers of the Imperial Army as disposable tools to achieve their immediate goals, Darth Cain took a long-term view, cultivating the loyalty and strength of his forces until they stood head and shoulders above all but a handful of non-Force-sensitive units in the entire Empire. Back when such talk had been treasonous, Malden had even heard people whisper that Cain's Legion could take on the Imperial Guard itself and be victorious.
While Malden and his colleagues didn't quite share the soldiers' blind devotion (their profession requiring them to be somewhat more cynical than the ground-pounders), even they wouldn't deny their admiration for Cain. When Imperial Intelligence had collapsed and been reformed as Sith Intelligence, Malden had gone to great lengths to avoid being reassigned to another, more typical Sith. He and the other spies and analysts who had joined the ranks of Cain's followers over the years had pulled every string and called in every favor they could to ensure that. Even then, it might not have been enough, had Darth Cain himself not interceded in their favor to the Dark Council, claiming that their work was invaluable in his activities.
"Fifteen minutes until exit from hyperspace," called out one of the officers.
They had made good time, Malden reflected. For all of Varan's many faults, the pirate captain had taken good care of his ship, and invested a lot of resources into making it as fast and deadly as possible – not that it had mattered one whit in the end, faced with the overwhelming might of the Invincible and the no less overwhelming power of Lady Vaylin. The Imperial engineers had only needed to fix a few things (only half of which had been damaged during the ship's capture) and give the whole vessel a deep cleaning before it had been ready to serve as the flagship of Darth Cain's apprentice as she led the liberation of Tatooine.
Now, the cargo bay of the Dread Son was full of various ship parts the engineers had taken from the junkyards of Tatooine and Jabba's personal collection of antiques (trading them for supplies in the former case, and claiming them as spoils in the latter). Most of them would be used to repair and upgrade the captured pirate ships which made up their pitifully small fleet, while the rest would have the honor of being used on the Invincible itself. Malden was doubtful of the technicians' claims that they might be able to build a new hyperdrive for the flagship, but it wasn't his job, and he was all too aware of how vulnerable the survivors of the Sith Empire were so long as Darth Cain's flagship was becalmed in Perlia.
The liberated slaves who needed relocating had already been sent to Perlia ahead of the Dread Son, but there was still one civilian on the ship, one who had been brought by Khayon and Nefertari, two of the most powerful Sith Acolytes among Darth Cain's followers. As Lady Vaylin's effective right-hand man, Malden had been introduced to Shmi Skywalker when the Sith pureblood and his Twi'lek … companion (it might be Malden's job to know things other people would rather he didn't, but he had no desire to get involved in whatever was going on there) had brought her onboard before their departure, along with a weird protocol droid who was absolutely terrified by its situation.
Malden wondered who had designed the personality matrix for it and what they had been thinking at the time. From what his eyes and ears among the crew had told him, it was both unfailingly polite and loyal to Shmi Skywalker, while also constantly complaining whenever it thought (wrongly) nobody could hear it. And it didn't even have a restraining bolt, which had long been standard practice in the Empire (apart from unique cases, like JURG-N).
At first, Malden had thought the two acolytes had kidnapped one of the locals, and he'd prepared himself for a distressing conversation where he'd have to carefully explain to them that this wasn't what their lord would want, walking the razor's edge all the while to avoid being killed by the Twi'lek (Khayon was one of the more reasonable Sith on the expedition, so he wasn't going to just kill Malden out of hand if the agent angered him). But then the Human woman had cut in and said that she was here of her own free will, so that she could meet with her Jedi son, who apparently was one of the emissaries who had been sent to Perlia – something she'd learned from a Jedi operative on Tatooine, which was the first time Malden had heard about it.
Malden's instinct, once he was done internally bemoaning the fact that neither of the acolytes had thought to warn him about the Jedi until now, had been to start calculating how they could leverage the situation to extract concessions from the Jedi envoys. Then his common sense had reasserted itself and he'd realized what a terrible idea that would be.
From their regular communications, they knew that Darth Cain was already conducting negotiations with the Republic and the Jedi Order : throwing a wrench into the process by doing something all but guaranteed to ruin any goodwill he might have managed to foster in the seven days since the envoys' arrival was sure to draw his ire.
And while Darth Cain's ire was slow to rise, once awakened, it was terrible to behold. Malden had seen his lord's fury unleashed only a handful of times, and he would be perfectly fine with never seeing it again. Republic commanders, rival Sith Lords, and finally the cultists of the mad Emperor : all had broken before the rage of Darth Cain, and even those closest to the Lord of Terror had been shaken by the awe-inspiring power he was capable of in such a state.
No, far better to bring Shmi Skywalker-Lars to Perlia, grant her every possible courtesy, and let the Jedi deal with the fallout. Besides, Lady Vaylin seemed to have taken a liking to the woman, who, despite seeming like a smart, capable person in every regard, seemed completely unafraid of the Sith. Malden had discreetly asked Khayon whether she was Force-sensitive, to which the pureblood had shrugged and answered he was pretty sure she wasn't, but there was definitely something weird going on with her, which he attributed to her son having been taken by the Jedi.
At which point, Malden had decided that this was all Force business, and not his to deal with until things blew up, at which point it would fall to him and the other operatives to clean up the mess. It was something they were all well used to, although the Lord of Terror's Sith followers were far less frequent offenders than the rest of the Empire in that regard.
The ship's return to reality shook Malden out of his thoughts. The slowly rotating orb of Perlia was visible through the bridge's viewport, along with the shape of the Invincible. Less than twenty seconds after their arrival, the flagship's greeting reached them :
"Dread Son, this is Commodore Kasteen of the Invincible. Welcome back, Lady Vaylin."
"It's good to be back, Commodore," replied the Lord of Terror's apprentice with a smile. Even after all this time, the sight of it still sent a shiver down Malden's spine. "I trust all is well ?"
Comms were disabled while in hyperspace, so their last check-in with Perlia had been back on Tatooine. Malden could tell nothing major had happened just by glancing at the flow of information from the Dread Son's sensors that was being rerouted to his datapad.
Still, better safe than sorry.
"The situation remains unchanged," replied Commodore Kasteen. "We are still hosting emissaries from the Republican Senate and the Jedi Order."
It still felt weird to hear. This wasn't the first time Darth Cain had met with Jedi without things turning into a battle, even disregarding Knight Vail's situation, but the thought that genuine coexistence between the Imperial remnants and the Republic might be possible still felt … unnatural. Malden might have spent too long in the Empire, surrounded by a propaganda machine that put anything in the Ascendancy to shame constantly claiming that the Republic's greatest wish was to finish the genocide of the Sith it had attempted at the end of the Great Hyperspace War, he realized. He'd started to believe in the propaganda it'd been part of Intelligence to spread, and that was never a good sign for an operative.
"Darth Cain has prepared a ceremony to welcome you back and honor your great victory on Tatooine," continued the Commodore. "I am sending you landing coordinates now."
"Thank you, Commodore," said Lady Vaylin. "Will I see you planetside ?"
"Actually, yes," replied the Imperial officer with a slight smile. "I've been asked to attend, and my crew can manage for a day or two without me breathing down their necks."
"I see. I look forward to it."
The transmission cut off, and Vaylin turned to look at Malden, one eyebrow raised.
"I will make sure Commander Sulla is ready," Malden assured her, before turning to leave the bridge.
The Mandalorians had spent the trip in the empty cargo bay they'd requisitioned, maintaining their gear and doing what they considered training exercises, and that most cultures would consider attempted murder. The rest of the crew had wisely ignored the shouts and explosions and left the warband to its own business, but Sulla would never forgive them if they didn't give her time to prepare.
Especially since the Prime Minister was all but certain to attend the ceremony. While Jenit Sulla could be surprisingly subtle at times (she was as good with logistics as she was with a weapon, and had earned her leadership the traditional Mandalorian way : by beating up any challenger), her budding romance with Trevellyan was one of the worst kept secrets of the Sith leadership.
Despite what one might expect, going to Regent from Prime Minister hadn't really changed Lio Trevellyan's workload. Whether that would prove to be a long-term thing or was just an inevitable consequence of recent events naturally creating more work for Perlia's government was yet to be seen.
Not that Lio was complaining about it, of course. The memory of the pirate attack was still far too fresh, the wounds far too raw, for him to even think about regretting how the way in which it had ended had cost him his previous position.
For generations, their small defense flotilla had been more than enough to keep opportunistic bandits at bay and police the system's hyperlanes. And until Varan's coalition had arrived and overwhelmed their defenses, there hadn't been any sign that this was about to change. Caught completely off-guard, the space defense force had done all it could, destroying several pirate vessels before they had inevitably succumbed to sheer weight of number.
For days afterwards, Perlia had been subjected to raids across its entire surface. Having gained orbital supremacy, the pirates could strike anywhere they pleased with impunity. Only the capital city had been spared thanks to its shields and anti-orbital defenses, but even those hadn't been enough to hold forever : the pirates had started mounting raids from the surface, landing beyond the reach of the guns and riding speeders all the way to the city – which wasn't walled or fortified, because why would it be ? Perlia was a modern, civilized world, even if it was far from the so-called spring of civilization in the Core.
Thankfully, the bulk of the raiders had ignored the city itself and moved right through and toward the Regency's Palace, the large building from which Trevellyan's predecessors had directed the course of Perlia for thousands of years. And unlike the city around it, the palace had been fortified, a legacy of the dark times of uncertainty during which it'd been built.
Lio could have evacuated the Palace : there were a number of secret passages built precisely for such a purpose, but all would have led inside the city, where he'd be easy prey for the roving bands of pirates looking for plunder. And if he was the pirates' target, then by staying within the Palace, he was giving them a clear target to focus on, instead of scouring the planet for him.
His only other source of relief at the time had been that he'd gotten his niece (and sole remaining family member and heir after an unfortunate speeder accident ten years ago that, as far as every investigation had been able to tell, genuinely had been no one's fault) to the safety of a bunker deep within the Perlian wilds, somewhere no pirate would ever think to look. But that was poor consolation for all the people who had lost someone to the raiders.
Eventually, Lio had been about to pick up a weapon and head for the walls himself, to join the final stand of the Perlian Defense Force. He hadn't fired a weapon in battle once in his entire life, and his work as Regent had left him no time to continue the shooting lessons he'd taken as a young man. But he'd still been determined to do it, since that was the only thing he could do.
He had been afraid, of course. Terrified, even. But he had forced the fear down, refusing to let it show on his face. If he had to die, then by the Force he would die as a Regent of Perlia. He'd failed his people by allowing this to come to pass, but perhaps his death in combat could go have gone some way toward erasing the shame he'd brought to his office.
And then, the broadcast, on every frequency. A message, a warning, a command – a revelation.
Darth Cain had returned, and he'd brought the Invincible, the great ship which held a place of pride in every Perlian myth second only to its master, back with him. The Lord of Terror was back, proclaimed the voice, and woe betide the fools who had dared trespass into his domain.
The Regent hadn't believed it at first. Like every Perlian, he'd grown up with stories of Darth Cain, the ancient warlord-king who had rescued the planet from the depredations of the Accursed Ones, and his many seemingly impossible deeds. And, like every Perlian except for a small handful of inoffensive loons, he had accepted that, if the tales of Darth Cain's existence were even true, the Sith Lord was long dead, and the promise of his return nothing but a polite political fiction woven by his distant predecessor to keep Perlia from fighting a war against the Republic it couldn't possibly win.
He'd thought some survivor of the system defence forces was making a desperate bluff to try and scare the pirates away. But then the skies had lit up with the detonations of pirate ships, obliterated without being able to do anything in return. The palace's long-range scanners had confirmed the arrival of a new ship in the system, one whose signature matched records so ancient nobody remembered they even were in the databanks. Transports had descended from orbit, carrying soldiers wearing gear identical to the few pieces that survived in a handful of planetary museums, and massacred the pirates.
And in the void, Darth Cain himself had faced the leader of the raider armada, his apprentice at his side, and killed the bastard in single combat.
In that moment, to the people of Perlia, Darth Cain had been more than a story come to life, more than a heroic figure from the distant past returning to save them in their hour of greatest need. In that moment, he had been a god.
In the aftermath, Lio had expected to be punished for his failure to protect Perlia. Part of him had even longed for it, thinking it to be the only way he could atone for his crime of letting the people he'd pledged to lead and protect come to such harm. But Darth Cain had forgiven him, and welcomed him at his side, to continue his service in a new way. Lio had sworn to do so at the very best of his capabilities, and he'd thrown himself into the work of rebuilding Perlia according to the Lord of Terror's vision.
It had been challenging, to be sure. While Darth Cain was supremely intimidating, he was also a reasonable man, willing to listen to his Prime Minister and other advisors. But it had quickly become clear that the way the old Sith Empire – even that small slice of it under Cain's direct control – had done things was very different from what was standard in the galaxy these days. Often, one of the other officers would suggest courses of action Lio would never have considered, and for very good reason.
For instance, no, blowing up a volcano in order for the ash to counter the global warming from the prolonged laser bombardment wasn't acceptable. Darth Cain had shut down that suggestion quickly, but the thought that some Sith Lords had considered it an acceptable method of terraforming was disquieting, to say the least.
Not all of the Sovereign's Imperial subordinates were as heavy-handed, thankfully. Lady Sulla especially had been a delight to work with before she had needed to leave the planet to join Lady Vaylin on the expedition to rescue the captured Perlians which had led to the liberation of Tatooine. Her mastery of logistics had been a great help in coordinating the relief efforts, although why in the name of the Force she had seemed embarrassed of her own skills, Lio didn't know. He could only attribute it to the warrior-centric attitude of the ancient (and not so ancient) Mandalorians, though surely a culture dedicated to battle would understand the importance of proper supply chains ?
In any case, Jenit was coming home with the rest of the sub-commanders of Lady Vaylin's expeditionary force today. Three days ago, Darth Cain had summoned Lio to the Sith Temple, and told him that he had a new task for him. The Prime Minister had steeled himself, expecting some grand endeavour – which was exactly what he'd received, although not in the way he'd expected.
Darth Cain had wanted to throw a proper welcome for his apprentice and those who had helped her liberate Tatooine, and he had asked Lio to organize it. Knowing how much Darth Cain valued his apprentice, and how important what she had achieved on Tatooine would be to the future of Perlia, Lio had taken the assignment with all the seriousness it deserved.
The celebrations which had taken place in the immediate aftermath of the Sovereign's return had been subdued by necessity, since there had been a lot of more important things to worry about (Darth Cain's own words, not the ex-Regent's). Now, however, they had more breathing room, and after everything they had gone through, the people of Perlia deserved to celebrate. Lio had been half-way through the preparations when he'd realized that Darth Cain must have thought of that as well, and was killing two sky-lizards with one stone by combining his apprentice's welcome ceremony with a planet-wide opportunity for his subjects to cut loose and relax.
Truly, the wisdom of the Lord of Terror was awe-inspiring.
The noise of the Dread Son's engines as the ship descended through Perlia's atmosphere drew Lio out of his reminiscences. He was standing a respectful distance behind the Lord of Terror, with the rest of the Perlian officials who had been gathered to welcome Lady Vaylin home. Aware of the many devices transmitting the event planet-wide, Lio straightened his posture, and prepared himself to do his part as part of the background while Darth Cain was reunited with his apprentice.
Only a complete fool would dare interrupt this moment, after all.
Anakin did his best not to show how nervous he was, though he suspected Obi-Wan, Plo Koon and Amberley were fully aware of it regardless, and only an idiot would think Darth Cain couldn't sense it somehow with his weird fear powers.
They were all at the Perlian capital's spaceport, waiting with baited breath in the complex' largest hangar. Darth Cain's apprentice was arriving today, returning from Tatooine in triumph. Anakin was excited to meet Jabba's executioner and the leader of the greatest slave liberation in recent galactic history – he knew she'd probably be very busy, but if he got the chance, he wanted to thank her in person.
The fifteen-years old Padawan had spent the last week helping out in the refugee camp around the Sith Temple. Since he couldn't add anything to the diplomatic side of things, Obi-Wan had allowed him to go out and put his mechanical skills to good use. Technically, he was also supposed to check there was nothing suspicious going on in the camp, but after the first day of running around and helping, he had completely forgotten about it.
Besides, it was more important to help the freed slaves, in his opinion. Anakin had helped set up power generators, water pumps and purifiers, public freshers, and a bunch of other stuff. It had been simple, but fulfilling work, using the skills he'd learned during his time as a slave to help those who, like him, had been freed from bondage.
The work had helped calm his doubts and self-recrimination for not being the one who had helped them down. Yes, he hadn't freed his homeworld's slaves, but he was still helping them now. And nobody blamed him for it, because why would they ? Jedi-in-training or not, he was still only fifteen. It had taken a whole bunch of Imperial operatives weeks of planning and coordinating to overthrow Jabba's rule, people who had been trained all their lives in that kind of work.
The highlight of his time helping had been when he'd been asked to assist in setting up the de-chipping center, for those who hadn't had the time to get their explosive chips removed before leaving Tatooine. There weren't many, but with the improvised hospitals on the desert world being flooded with patients, some had decided to escape the planet before having the chips removed – although the detonators themselves had been destroyed, along with every single such infernal device on Tatooine.
Anakin's own chip had been removed years ago : when he'd come to Coruscant for the first time, Qui-Gon had brought him to the Jedi Temple's Halls of Healing, before they'd gone to see the Council. There, one of the Healers had removed the device which had loomed so large over him for his entire life – she'd even handed him a small hammer used to test reflexes, so that he could smash it himself.
He still remembered the elation, the sheer feeling of relief as he had brought the hammer down and looked at the small pieces of the collar he had born inside his own flesh for so long. Seeing other people go through the same thing had been an incredible experience, and so had helping built the scanners to locate the chips before their surgical removal.
The entire refugee city was covered in a jamming field designed specifically to block the chips' detonation signal. Anakin had asked to see the plans and made sure to memorize them, just in case he needed them someday. There were still many, many slaves in the Outer Rim, after all.
Amberley (the first time he'd called her Miss or Knight Vail, she'd insisted he call her by her first name) had been around the growing town a lot as well. She wasn't anywhere as skilled with machines as Anakin, and she was still recovering from her injuries, so she couldn't help with the hard labor. But she was very good at helping the newly freed slaves deal with the sudden change in their circumstances, either by reassuring them or by simply providing a shoulder for them to cry on when their emotions overwhelmed them.
(Anakin wasn't envious of that. Of course not. A Jedi must be in control of their emotions, after all.)
The Jedi had called Coruscant to check on her story as soon as they could. It had taken Madame Nu some time digging into the Archives, but she had eventually found a mention of a Knight Amberley Vail dating back to the correct era.
On its own, it didn't mean Amberley wasn't an imposter using the identity of a long-dead Jedi, but Anakin was certain she was telling the truth. He couldn't imagine a spy acting like she did, and he could feel the truth of her words in the Force. And besides, a lot of stuff had been lost (which clearly pissed off Madame Nu) : it was only thanks to Darth Cain's infamy that so much of his own legend had survived to this day. For instance, the list of his vault's contents had also disappeared without trace, and the reveal of its existence had made the Council very nervous.
The Chancellor had even asked whether they should demand Cain hand the contents over to the Jedi Order for safekeeping. There had been some debate on the question, but on the whole, it had been decided it was best not to poke the krayt dragon and assume Cain's unwillingness to use the vault's contents in the past would continue now.
They had asked for Amberley to share what she remembered of the contents, though. Just in case.
The Dread Son landed, Anakin absently noting the recent patch jobs that had been done on its hull following its capture. The boarding ramp came down, and Lady Vaylin, slayer of Jabba the Hutt, liberator of Tatooine and apprentice to Darth Cain, stepped out.
Anakin felt the Force blazing within her, stronger than anything he'd ever felt before. Only Master Yoda even came close (although he was pretty sure the old Jedi was stronger than he seemed, while Vaylin was flaunting her strength for everyone with the ability to sense it). Since joining the Order and learning the use his abilities consciously, Anakin had met many other Force-users, but very few of them had registered as nearly as strong in the Force as him. But he was certain that, at least right now, Vaylin had more raw power than he did.
Which only made sense, he reasoned, since she was at least ten years older than him (her face had a strange ageless nature that made it difficult to figure out her exact age). Then Anakin sensed another presence, nearly completely eclipsed by that of Darth Cain's apprentice, but achingly familiar. Eyes wide, he looked behind Vaylin, and – there.
She was older than he remembered her. There were more wrinkles in her face, and several streaks of gray in her hair that hadn't been there when she'd hugged him goodbye and told him not to look back. But he recognized her. How could he not ? He'd thought about her almost every day since leaving Tatooine six years ago.
The word left his lips before he could even think about stopping it :
"MOM !"
And then he was running, all thoughts of propriety and protocol and the Jedi Code forgotten. He jumped over the heads of the startled troopers and ran up the ramps. He heard Obi-Wan shout something behind him, but he didn't pay attention to the words. All he could see was his mother, walking out of the Dread Son just behind Vaylin.
He threw himself at her, hugging her close. She returned his hug, and they stood there, reunited at last.
"Oh, Ani. Look at how tall you have grown," she said, voice choked with tears as she hugged him back.
She was smaller than him, he realized with a shock. In his memories, she had always been so tall, but now she was slightly smaller than him.
"You're here," he whispered, voice choked with tears, body shaking with emotion. "You're free."
"Yes, Ani, I'm free," she whispered into his ear. "I told you we would meet again, remember ?"
"You did. You did."
Tears ran down his face, and everyone was staring at them, but he didn't care.
His mother was here. His mother was free. In that moment, nothing else mattered to Anakin Skywalker.
As a visiting foreign dignitary, Dooku had been invited to witness the return of Darth Cain's apprentice to her Master – no, her Teacher, the Count mentally corrected himself, just in case the incredibly powerful young woman could hear him using the word in his mind somehow. He had been worried she too would be able to sense the touch of the Dark Side on him, but had to trust that Darth Cain wouldn't let him be exposed to the Jedi envoys.
What he definitely hadn't expected had been Kenobi's Padawan doing something so … so monumentally stupid. For a few heartbeats, Dooku thought things were about to turn violent, as the Sith troopers went for their weapons at the sight of the teenager running toward their Lord's apprentice. His own hand moved to the hilt of the lightsaber at his belt – not his true, red blade, but a standard green one he could wield without revealing himself to the Jedi in attendance. He didn't know what exactly he would do with it, but instincts sharpened over a lifetime spent fruitlessly trying to save the Republic from itself couldn't be ignored so easily.
Yet before anyone could do something they would all regret (although Dooku had no doubt an eruption of violence at this time and place would have pleased his Master), Darth Cain raised his hand in a silent command, and exerted the merest fraction of his power. Compared to having the Sith Lord's full attention focused on him, this was nothing, but it was still enough to freeze everyone in their tracks long enough for Skywalker (who seemed not to have even noticed the Sith Lord's display of sorcerous might) to run right past Vaylin and envelop the small Human woman standing behind her in a hug.
Darth Cain's apprentice looked at the teenager, nonplussed. She was clearly as surprised as the rest of them, but Dooku could see no sign that she had been worried for her own safety, though whether that was because she'd known Skywalker's intent or because she'd known with absolute certainty the Padawan was no threat to her, the Count wasn't sure.
"Well," said the Sith Lord, smiling indulgently. "This is quite the surprise. Why don't you introduce us, Padawan Skywalker ?"
"Oh ! Um, sorry, sir ! This is my mother, Shmi Skywalker. Mom, this is Darth Cain."
"Hello, lord," the woman greeted the Sith with a bow of her head. "I am Shmi Skywalker-Lars. You are Lady Vaylin's Teacher, right ? Thank you very much for sending her to Tatooine. All of us are in her debt for freeing us from the Hutts, whatever form our chains may have taken."
"You are welcome, Mrs Skywalker-Lars," replied Darth Cain, before making a show of looking around. "That being said, I think this is hardly the place for such an emotional reunion. I will let you continue this in private."
He snapped his fingers, and a pair of troopers approached the mother and son pair, gently guiding them through the crowd. Dooku didn't know where they were going, but he didn't think they had anything to fear – Skywalker was still carrying his lightsaber, if nothing else.
"Now, with that unexpected but delightful distraction out of the way," proclaimed Darth Cain, bringing everyone's attention back to him, before turning to Vaylin, who had stood still during the entire exchange, a bemused look on her face : "I have already told you as much, but it bears repeating : you have done well, my apprentice. I am proud of your actions."
From then, the rest of the welcoming ceremony went off without further incident. Cain greeted each of his apprentice's sub-commanders in turn, praising their actions on Tatooine. Dooku carefully memorised each of their faces and names. There was Jenit Sulla, a Mandalorian who led the other warriors who had rallied to the Lord of Terror's banner. Commander Broklaw, once of the Imperial Army, a stout, scarred man who looked at the Jedi in attendance without a sliver of fear in either his countenance or his aura. Malden, a blue-skinned, red-eyed alien of a near-Human species Dooku didn't recognize at first glance and who'd apparently coordinated the operation with the local groups resisting the Hutts.
And, last but not least in Dooku's eyes, a pair of Sith acolytes who'd led the others attached to the task force, a Twi'lek and what the Count could only assume was a pureblood Sith. The red-skinned race had long been supposed to be extinct, save for a few degenerate descendants scattered across the galaxy, but Dooku had already seen several specimens on Perlia, although none of them had burned as strong in the Force as this Iskandar Khayon.
With the initial welcoming ceremony complete (once Senator Donali and Prime Minister Trevellyan had added their own words of congratulations to the returning heroes), they left the spaceport, taking a group of transports back to the Sith Temple. On the way there, Dooku thought back on Skywalker's actions, and then on what he knew of the boy. Given that bringing Skywalker to Coruscant had been one of the last things Qui-Gon had done before his death (and one day, he would have his revenge on Sidious for that, as was only right and proper for a Sith), he had spent some time discreetly investigating the child, and knew that he'd once been a slave on Tatooine himself, before Qui-Gon had arranged his freedom.
If Dooku knew his former Padawan, Qui-Gon would never have intended to leave Shmi Skywalker stay a slave on Tatooine. There was no doubt in the Count's mind that Qui-Gon had intended to return to the desert planet at some point to free her, even if he had to steal a bunch of spare parts from the Temple's stockpile to trade. Yes, it would've technically been financing slavery, as well as encouraging young Skywalker's attachment instead of teaching him to let go, but Qui-Gon's interpretation of the Jedi Code had always been … unorthodox.
Unfortunately, it seemed that Qui-Gon hadn't shared this plan with anyone, be it the boy or his own Padawan, and when he'd died, Kenobi had found himself thrust into the role of a Jedi Knight with a student of his own. Dooku wasn't sure why exactly Kenobi hadn't gone to Tatooine anyway, but he had a feeling the Order's restrictions on attachment and emotions were to blame, although he must admit he didn't know the details of what had happened when his Padawan had met the supposed 'Chosen One'.
Briefly, Dooku wondered if he was to blame for Qui-Gon's habit of keeping his thoughts to himself and acting without explaining his plan to anyone beforehand, and startled, wondering where the sudden stab of guilt had come from. He hadn't quite been himself since his first discussion with Cain, when he'd been exposed to the ancient Sith Lord's power. Thoughts and emotions he'd thought long buried, cast aside on his path to mastering the Dark Side, kept coming back to haunt him at the most inopportune moments.
He hadn't communicated with Darth Sidious since his arrival : while his ship's comms were equipped with the best security money could buy on the black market (something which was expected among planetary rulers), he didn't trust even those security measures while on a world controlled by Darth Cain. His Master had known to expect this, of course. It meant that at least Sidious wouldn't be able to sense these … these doubts (he might as well call them what they were), which Dooku knew would put him in danger. If Sidious thought Dooku's dedication to the cause was faltering, he had no doubt the elder Sith would immediately arrange for his death.
The Dark Side, after all, did not tolerate any weakness in those who sought to wield its power.
After that near-disaster at the spaceport, the rest of the day went more or less as planned. We passed through the capital under the acclaim of the crowds Trevellyan had arranged, before taking a speeder to the Temple, where my apprentice was welcomed with even more applause by the ex-slaves. It wasn't the first time Vaylin was showered with praise, but I could tell that the thanks of the refugees meant a lot more to her than she let show.
It wasn't worth going to war with the Hutt Cartels for, but I would take any silver lining I could get. So I had given her my patented Look of Approval #3, 'You have done well, my apprentice', which she had eaten up like a youngling with a frozen treat. Sometimes, I felt bad about how easy Vaylin was to manipulate, then I remembered how many thousands of people she had killed while working for her brother, and that she was much happier and well-balanced nowadays (although I still wouldn't call her perfectly sane), and the guilt disappeared like an alien slave caught in the streets of Dromund Kaas at night without a powerful patron.
Once we were in the Temple, it was time for the official debriefing of Vaylin, Malden and Sulla, as we went over their operation on Tatooine in detail and discussed the planet's future. Vaylin had handed over governance of the sandball to the locals before leaving, which I approved of whole-heartedly : actively adding worlds to my direct control was among the last things I wanted at the moment. But it was clear that the locals would need our help to keep their newfound freedom, and with the Invincible still trapped in the Perlia system, we'd need to rely on our flotilla of captured ships.
With the more urgent business taken care of, we all went to the state dinner which Trevellyan had arranged at the Temple itself. The Prime Minister (or, well, whoever he'd hired to take take care of the catering : I hadn't expected the man to do it himself, that would've been daft) had done an excellent job, with specialities from all over the planet being served.
Besides myself, Amberley, Vaylin and her command staff, I had invited Commodore Kasteen down from the Invincible, as well as the envoys from the Republic and Count Dooku. Skywalker was here with his mother (on the way from the spaceport, I had asked Trevellyan to add her to the seating, so as to avoid any potential incidents). We were eating within one of the Temple's largest rooms, with several other tables hosting soldiers who had distinguished themselves during the Tatooine campaign (including every Sith acolyte who had participated, since not inviting any of them was a recipe for disaster if I ever saw one), along with a gaggle of Perlian officials.
A troupe of musicians provided a lovely soundtrack to the meal from one corner. Where exactly Trevellyan had found a troupe of musicians versed in traditional Imperial Sith music on such short notice, I had no idea. The Jedi seemed a bit unnerved by the music (admittedly, it was something of an acquired taste), but it was a bittersweet reminder of the homes we'd lost for the rest of us.
Eventually, the meal ended, and things devolved into a more disorganised party (during which, I noted with no small amount of amusement, Sulla ended up on the dance floor with Trevellyan, looking both uncomfortable and very happy), which I knew was being emulated elsewhere across the planet. More importantly, I was finally able to withdraw to my quarters with Amberley.
As soon as the door had closed behind us and I had taken off my boots, I collapsed onto the extravagant bed and let out a long, drawn-out groan. There was no need to maintain my facade as a Sith Lord : JURG-N was keeping watch on the other side of the door, so we wouldn't be interrupted without warning.
"That was way too close," I moaned. "I get that the kid was happy to see his mother for the first time in years, but did he have to nearly start a war ?!"
"You're exaggerating," said Amberley, that small smile she always had when I complained to her on her lips. "You handled it without any problem, didn't you ?"
"Yes, but these morons nearly threw us into a war with the Republic right then and there," I grunted, burying my head into a pillow as I remembered the way damn near every single soldier present had gone for their weapons. "What did they even think was going to happen, Skywalker taking a swing at Vaylin ? The kid is strong, but she would eat him for breakfast."
"Yes, yes, your apprentice is stronger than a fifteen-years old Padawan," Amberley said in a soothing tone.
She sat on the bed next to me, and guided my head to her lap. I didn't resist her, drawing comfort from her presence as I always did.
To this day, I did not know how the two of us had ended up in our current relationship. I remembered every step of the whole process perfectly, but I couldn't make sense of it. By all accounts, a Sith Lord and a Jedi getting involved was foolish in the extreme, and something my self-preservation instincts should have kept me from at all costs.
And yet, here we were. Apart from JURG-N, there was no one in the whole galaxy I trusted like I did Amberley. I'd had a number of flings before meeting her, but none of them compared to our relationship. If I hadn't met her all those years ago … no. I firmly turned my mind away from such imaginings.
For a time, we simply stayed there, basking in each other's company. Then, she told me :
"I need to go to Coruscant."
"I know," I replied, sighing.
Someone had to bring the victims of Varan's mind-control to Coruscant for healing : I would prefer not to have any more Jedi on Perlia than necessary. While there was little chance of them doing something stupid, I couldn't say the same for all the Darksiders on the planet. All it would take was one moron deciding that fighting a Jedi would be a nice way to spend an afternoon, and we would all be kriffed.
Of course, I trusted her to take care of herself. She was a big girl, and I had seen her kill things five times her size and dozens of times her weight while barely slowing down. I was slightly better than her when it came to lightsaber technique, but she had improved by leaps and bonds since we had first met. Nowadays, she won at least four out of ten of our sparring matches with training weapons – and I never held back against her, nor she against me, we respected one another too much for that.
But while I had no doubt she could handle herself in a fight, even she couldn't take on the entire Jedi Order, and I was worried that was exactly what would happen on Coruscant. The Jedi envoys may have been unfailingly polite (and appropriately mortified about their Padawan's behavior, though I had waved it off in the interest of not getting the overpowered teenager pissed at me right after accidentally getting a lot of kudos with him by reuniting with his mother), but that was while they were surrounded by an army loyal to me. Things would be different on Coruscant, where Amberley would be on her own (I had offered, for form's sake, to give her an escort, to which she had merely given me a look which told me everything I needed to know about how bad of an idea that would have been).
Even if the Order had relaxed on its attachment to traditions in the last millennia (which was a big if), they still had perfectly valid reasons to be suspicious of Amberley. Frankly, if they hadn't been suspicious of a Jedi returning to the fold after being missing for thousands of years and reappearing alongside a bunch of Sith, I would have been very worried for the galaxy.
I didn't need to say any of that out loud : I knew she had already come to the same conclusions I had. So, instead, I merely said :
"I will miss you."
"I will come back," she whispered. "I promise."
"I know."
We spent the next few hours taking advantage of what might very well be our last moments alone together for several months, until we fell asleep in each other's arms, the sound of wild partying still echoing beyond the open windows.
As befitted a diplomatic vessel, the Shield of Damocles' main conference room contained a state-of-the-art holo-projector, allowing the Jedi to communicate with Coruscant without any trouble. Obi-Wan could only hope that the encryption was also up to snuff : while they weren't likely to discuss anything that might anger Darth Cain, the notion that the Sith could listen in on their conversations as they pleased wasn't a reassuring one.
Three images rose above the projector : Masters Yoda and Windu, and Supreme Chancellor Palpatine. This wasn't the first time Obi-Wan and Plo Koon had called the Republic's capital since their arrival on Perlia, but it was the first time they were doing so without the presence of Obi-Wan's Padawan – something which didn't go unnoticed.
"I don't see Anakin with you. Is he alright ?" asked Palpatine right after they had completed the formal greetings, a worried look on his face.
Ah, so the recordings of Vaylin's return hadn't made it to Coruscant yet. Of course, it was only a matter of time until they did, and then the Order would have some pointed questions for him regarding his Padawan's behavior. While Obi-Wan couldn't blame Anakin for his reaction to seeing his mother for the first time in years yesterday, it had come perilously close to causing a diplomatic accident.
"Anakin is doing fine, Chancellor," Obi-Wan assured the Chancellor. "It's just that Lady Vaylin brought a surprise guest with her from Tatooine, and he's reconnecting with his roots, so to speak."
"What do you mean ?" asked Windu, frowning.
"Apparently, Padawan Skywalker's mother heard he was on Perlia and accompanied the Sith returning here to see him," explained Master Plo Koon. He made no mention of the fact Obi-Wan was the one responsible for that, however indirectly, for which the Jedi Knight was grateful. He didn't regret asking Quinlan to check on her, but he knew there were those who would not approve within the Order.
Master Windu's frown deepened, but before he could say anything about how un-Jedi-like Anakin's attitude was, Chancellor Palpatine cut in :
"Ah, that is great news then. I know Anakin has always been worried about her – seeing that she is fine will be a weight off his shoulders. He's still with her, I take it ?"
"Yes," replied Obi-Wan, grateful for Palpatine's intervention. "They are currently helping out in the refugee camp around the Sith Temple."
"Discuss this later, we will," said Yoda firmly. "For now, your report, give us."
"As you know, Darth Cain's apprentice has returned from Tatooine," began Master Plo Koon. "We were invited to her welcoming party, which has turned into a planet-wide celebration of the Liberation of Tatooine and the declaration of war against the Hutt Cartels."
"Confident, the people are, of their eventual victory against the Hutts ?" asked Yoda.
"They don't expect it to be easy," explained the Kel Dor, "but on the whole, I would say that they are. The Imperial troopers have already followed Cain into battle after battle and emerged victorious : their faith in their leader is admirable."
"The Perlians overwhelmingly support Cain's decision as well," said Obi-Wan. "Local media has been showing interviews of the people brought from Tatooine on loop, and the stories of the depredations they suffered have roused a great deal of outrage. For now, they are still focused on rebuilding and dealing with the refugees, but there's already talk of raising a Perlian army to supplement the Sith troopers."
"And while the Invincible's foundries are building lodgings for the former slaves, they could just as easily start building weapons and military equipment," said Master Windu. "Cain has the perfect cover to bring raw materials aboard his ship, and there's no way for us to know how much of it truly goes to its avowed purpose."
Obi-Wan hadn't thought about that. He wasn't sure Darth Cain had planned it this way, but whether Master Windu was being paranoid or not, the end result was the same.
"That is worrying," said the Chancellor. "I have also received reports from Republic Intelligence : their operatives in the Outer Rim have heard rumors of a massive gathering of pirates, slavers and other never-do-wells under the banner of the Hutt Clans."
"Troubling, this is," mused Yoda. "Always a violent and lawless place, the Outer Rim has been, far from the Republic's centers of order and law. But avoided the ravages of open warfare for centuries, it has."
"I'm not sure the alternative was any better, Master Yoda," said Obi-Wan, as respectfully as he could. "Certainly not from the perspective of the slaves who were freed by the Sith. I have spoken with Anakin about it, and the refugees' admiration for Vaylin borders on worship."
"Our failure, it is, that come from the Sith, hope had to," said Yoda sadly. "But vigilant, we must remain."
"You are still of the opinion the Republic has nothing to fear from Darth Cain at this time ?" asked Master Windu.
"I wouldn't go that far," said Obi-Wan, "but I'm reasonably certain he doesn't have any intent to declare war on the Republic in the immediate future at least."
"Honorable for his time, Darth Cain may have been, but a servant of the Dark Side he remains," warned Yoda. "Surrounded by darkness and evil we cannot imagine, he has always been : warped by it, he inevitably has been. Return to Coruscant soon, Knight Vail must. To hear her thoughts on this matter, the Council needs."
"I have spoken with her about it," said Plo Koon. "She said she wanted to wait until Vaylin had returned, in case something went wrong on Tatooine. Yesterday, she told me she was ready to accompany the victims of Varan's mind-control to the Jedi Temple."
"Good. We'll send a medical transport to Perlia. What about you ? Will you remain on the planet ?"
"I believe it would be in everyone's best interests that we do, for now," said Obi-Wan. "The situation is bound to continue evolving rapidly, and we'll better be able to react if we're already here."
What went unsaid was that, while it wasn't quite a hostage exchange, since the Jedi Council wouldn't do anything to hurt Knight Vail, only a blind fool wouldn't have noticed that the relationship between the Knight of the Old Republic and the Sith Lord was … complicated. The three of them remaining on Perlia would serve as reassurance that the Republic didn't just intend to leave the planet to its fate right after learning everything it could.
"What of Senator Donali ?" asked Palpatine.
Obi-Wan concealed a wince. There was a reason Donali wasn't in the room with them, even though it was his ship and his transmitter.
"Now that he has been reassured Darth Cain has no intent to take over the galaxy, the Senator appears to be pleased with the situation," said Plo Koon. "The Damocles Sector has been suffering from increasing pirate activity for years : he is in talks with the Sith administration to see if some kind of protection scheme can be put into place in the long term."
"Meaning that the Sith Lord's influence will spread," noted Windu. "Is that legal ? Can we do anything about it ?"
"While the Reformations prevent the establishment of a true military without the approval of the entire Senate, individual Sectors are allowed to maintain forces for their own self-defences," said Palpatine, looking troubled. "The Invincible aside, I cannot think of any specific regulation that would prevent Darth Cain from sending troops to other systems as long as he had their permission."
"Much as I don't want to think of it, it may be time to bring the notion of re-creating the Republic Army before the Senate," said Windu, visibly pained by his own words. "We Jedi are keepers of the peace, not soldiers – not for the last thousand years. If Darth Cain builds up a military in the Outer Rim, we won't be able to stop him on our own."
That … Windu had a point, but Obi-Wan couldn't help but feel it was wrong for a Jedi Master to be the one suggesting it.
"Give into fear, we must not," said Yoda firmly. "A threat to the Republic, Darth Cain could be, yes. But could and will, very different things are. A different kind of Sith, Cain has shown himself to be. Careful, we must be, not to jump to conclusions. Else, the very war we dread, while it could be avoided, we will start."
"I suppose you are right, Master Yoda," nodded Palpatine. "For now, I will do all I can to keep the Senate calm as we observe how the situation develops."
Obi-Wan breathed a sigh of relief. They were all very lucky that the Republic was led by a man like Palpatine at this time : a Supreme Chancellor with a different temperament might very well have already started a new galactic war. And while a part of the Jedi Knight, the part that had been taught many horror stories about the Dark Side and the Sith during his training at the Temple, felt that such a conflict might be inevitable, it was undeniable that the Republic wasn't ready for one now.
Once the call to Perlia was over and the Jedi had left his office, Palpatine let his mask slip, allowing his face to show the barest hint of the fury he felt. Had anyone else been in the room, the sight of the kindly old politician turning into a snarling, yellow-eyed fiend would have been enough to freeze them with terror, even though he still kept the veil which hid his Dark Side presence firmly in place.
After several seconds, Sidious took a deep breath. He didn't calm himself : that was they way of the weak-minded Jedi. No, Sidious wouldn't discard his rage, it was much too useful for that. Instead, he let it cool and freeze, before burying it deep inside him, where it could serve as fuel for his power. Then, once he was no longer in danger of tearing his own office apart in a fit, he considered the new information he had just gained.
This … was not ideal. He hadn't really thought Kenobi and Plo Koon would advise for an immediate invasion of Perlia by every Jedi that could be drummed up (Cain was far too cunning to let that happen), but the cautious acceptance the two were recommending was close to his worst-case scenario. Of course, any reaction would have presented its own challenges, even if the Jedi had warned that Darth Cain intended to conquer the Republic as soon as he was done crushing the Hutts and securing his power base in the Outer Rim, and that the Republic needed to start preparing for the inevitable war to follow immediately.
In theory, the Republic militarising served Palpatine's interests, since such armed forces would ultimately answer to the Supreme Chancellor, as per the principles engraved in the Republic's oh-so-important Constitution. In practice, there was a reason his original plan had relied on using Kaminoan clones to bear the brunt of the civil war. Normal soldiers wouldn't have the control chips that would allow him to turn them all on the Jedi with the metaphorical flip of a switch. And the kind of people who joined the military to protect the Republic from a resurgent Sith menace weren't likely to be the most susceptible to support his planned transformation of the Republic into a new Empire, either.
He would adapt, though : he had already known that, barring something lucky happening (and Sidious, like any true Sith, didn't believe in any luck he didn't make himself), this was the most likely outcome.
No, the source of his anger was presence of Anakin's mother on Perlia. Palpatine had long been planning to use the woman to bring the Jedi's precious Chosen One closer to the Dark Side : from their regular discussions, it was clear that, despite the Order's best attempts to mold him into another mindless follower of their hypocritical Code, Anakin's attachment to her remained as strong as ever.
All it would have taken was a few visions of her death sent through the Force at a time when Kenobi was too busy to investigate, and then have some disposable pawns kill her before being killed by Anakin in turn. Hatred and guilt alike would have pushed the boy closer to his destiny as Sidious' apprentice then, and his need to keep what had happened from the rest of the Order would have further grown the rift between them.
Now that the woman had drawn the attention of Darth Cain and his followers, the plan was still feasible, but the risk of his manipulations being discovered was too great. If she died now, perhaps he could blame her death on the Imperial Sith, and use that to prevent Anakin from falling in Darth Cain's clutches, but he didn't trust any of his agents to avoid detection by the Imperials, and failure, let alone discovery, could be catastrophic. No, the woman would live, for now.
He glanced around at his office, and wondered whether it might be time to redecorate. Since claiming the post of Supreme Chancellor, he'd slowly brought more and more pieces of his collection of Sith artefacts to the suite, delighting in flaunting his prized possessions to the blind Jedi. The pieces he'd brought here had been carefully selected to minimize the risk of identification, and he'd the flimsy trail proving that each of them was a gift from someone disposable to an innocent politician with no understanding of the Force – to have the Line of Bane finally be exposed because of a choice in decoration would've been supremely humiliating.
Some of the pieces in his office had been crafted long after the fall of the Sith Empire, but others, like the vase containing Korribanite incense, were even older. The only artefact whose nature was obvious as the bas-relief from Yavin 4, depicting a battle between the Sith and the Jedi, which the Light-sided fools believed was evidence of Palpatine's reverence for their hateful Order. Given that Palpatine had been forced to suffer the presence of the Jedi Council members in the room far too many times, and nobody suspected a thing, he had been confident he could continue to enjoy this secret triumph until the day of the Order's ultimate destruction.
But now, following Darth Cain's return, public interest in the Sith was growing. Historians who, until recently, had been languishing in obscurity, were now the darlings of the Holonet, with countless interviews being broadcast all over the galaxy, side-by-side with images from Perlia itself showing the renovated Sith Temple there – and the growing refugee city at its base.
Sidious had to admire Cain's cunning there, as there were now thousands of human and xenos shields that would stand in the way of the Jedi and the Republic if they tried to attack his stronghold, all while the weaklings were convinced he was granting them asylum out of the goodness of his heart – ha ! As if such feeble notions had any place in the heart of a true Sith.
There had also still been no contact from Dooku, but that much was to be expected. The Jedi envoys had confirmed his apprentice had arrived on Perlia, and was presently engaged in diplomatic talks with the planet's administration behind closed doors. So at least Cain hadn't killed him on the spot, which had been a very real possibility. Losing Tyranus at this stage would have been a blow to his schemes, as the Count was a convenient figurehead for the worlds dissatisfied with the Republic to rally around, but his value had diminished since the arrival of Darth Cain.
After a long moment of considering his next move, Palpatine left his office and entered a side-room whose door was locked behind a thirty-digits combination code, retina scanner and voice recognition – all of which was to be expected within the office of the Supreme Chancellor.
The room was dark and anonymous, with nothing indicating its location. Within it were only two things : a set of hooded robes and a communication table, which was one of the handful of devices Darth Sidious used for his illicit activities as a Sith Lord. After changing into the robes, Sidious activated the later and input a specific frequency, which wasn't registered anywhere (the device couldn't record anything, as an added security measure).
It took several minutes for the call to connect. Between the distance of the call and the many layers of encryption it had to go through, the projection's quality was quite poor, but Sidious could still recognize the middle-aged Human woman who appeared in the hologram.
"Miss Hanar," Darth Sidious said, no longer bothering with the mask he presented to most of the galaxy as Sheev Palpatine. The transmitter would obscure his face and voice, leaving him only as an ominous, hooded figure who could be anyone – only his nature as a member of the Human race was left clearly identifiable. "I have a job for you."
Hanar was one of the many contacts among the criminal circles that Sidious had cultivated over the years. Unlike the departed Varan, she had no talent in the Force, nor did she know Sidious' Sith name. She was merely a thief of some talent, whose services Sidious kept through a combination of generous payments and the threat of sending evidence of her activities to the Hutt Cartels, who looked dimly on people stealing from them.
"What do you need ?" she asked cautiously.
"It is my understanding that Marlo the Hutt is gathering forces to punish Darth Cain for his apprentice's murder of Jabba," he said. "I have recently learned that the Invincible will remain trapped in Perlia for several months, unable to enter hyperspace until its current repairs are completed. I want you to ensure Marlo is made aware of that information."
There were many rumors on the Holonet about the Invincible, but precious little actual information.
"Hmm." She frowned – she wasn't refusing his instructions, Sidious knew, merely considering how best to proceed. "Marlo has sent a call that he'll pay well for any intel on Cain. Is the intel true, or is it a trap ?"
"Does it matter ?" asked Sidious, mildly curious what his pawn's response would be.
"I'll do it either way," Hanar shrugged, "but if it's a trap you are drawing Marlo into, I need to arrange a patsy or two to send the info in my stead, and lie low for a while just in case. The slug is taking this seriously : he won't appreciate anyone interfering, and he has a lot of bounty hunters at his beck and call."
"The information is true," replied Sidious with confidence. If there was one single area in which he'd willingly admit Anakin was his better, it was his knowledge of mechanics and shipbuilding. "If you can, use it to gain Marlo's favor and obtain a place in his court. That is secondary to making sure he gets the intel, but I'll pay you a bonus if you manage it."
Hanar grimaced, not hiding her displeasure at the thought of having to deal with the Hutts any longer than necessary. Sidious didn't care : she would do as he asked, or he would destroy her. And she knew it, too, which was why she didn't object aloud.
"I'll get on it immediately," she assured him.
"Good. Do not fail me in this, thief," warned Sidious, before shutting down the connection.
Maybe having Tatooine ravaged by the Hutts' armies would turn Anakin against Cain, especially if Palpatine managed to convince the boy that this was the other Sith Lord's fault. At the very least, it would stoke the flames of his anger, while weakening Cain's position.
AN : And here we are, the end of the first arc of Darth Cain, Reluctant Sith Lord (DCRSL). We have dealt with the immediate aftermath of the Invincible's arrival : now the dominos are beginning to fall, and the galaxy will never be the same.
You can just hear Cain's blood pressure rising. I would feel bad for him, but his presence in any setting is an objective good, so he will have to deal.
As far as my research was able to find, there is no named Cypher Twenty-Three in SWTOR, so I used that number for Malden. For those of you who don't know, Cyphers are the field operatives of Imperial Intelligence (think James Bond, but working for an employer with even less moral scruples and an even darker backstory than the British Empire - I know, I know, I shudder to think of it myself).
The Sulla/Trevellyan pairing, and the bit about blowing up a volcano on Perlia, were "inspired by" (and by that, I mean "shamelessly ripped off from") GoatBane, over on the SpaceBattle thread. They have drawn a series of comics for this story, which are both hilarious and incredibly sweet, and I highly recommend you check them out.
I am going to put this story on hold for the immediate future in order to go back to my other stories, which have been neglected since the start of May and my focus on DCRSL. The next chapter of Ciaphas Cain, Warmaster of Chaos has been half-finished for longer than this fic has existed, among other things : A Young Girl's Weaponization of the Mythos has been left on a rather cruel cliffhanger, A Blade Recast hasn't been updated in months, as has the Roboutian Heresy.
Of course, this is all dependent on the Muse's whim.
As always, I hope you enjoyed reading this chapter, and look forward to your thoughts, theories and suggestions.
Zahariel out.