Muunilinst

Thirty-nine hours after the Dearg Due's departed the Agamar system, it arrived in the Muunilinst system. Darth Gladiolus meditated during her journey up the Braxant Run, seeking more knowledge concerning the Sith Lord or Lords who she suspected to encounter on Muunilinst. The currents of the Force revealed only glimpses of their identities: a human man with pale, slowly wrinkling skin and greying hair and a white-skinned, hairless figure whose features screamed non-human. She could not say if she would encounter either on Muunilinst. But that world had resonated strongly with the dark side of the Force. She sensed dark side energies on nearby Mygeeto, along with other worlds spread throughout the galaxy. She even sensed the energies remaining on Ziost, Korriban, and the other worlds within archaic Sith Space.

Her eyes opened slowly upon reversion into the Muunilinst system. Her meditation efforts had revealed little beyond impressions of the two Sith Lords with her in the galaxy. She returned to the cockpit before the system authorities hailed her. Gladiolus responded by activating her shuttle's transponder. She waited several minutes before they finally cleared her to land at "High Port". She followed the provided guidance, which led her to a large complex floating over the Earth-like world. A long tether hung from the facility, leading down to a large grey city. Glimmering ships arrived and departed from the complex. She throttled her sublight engines and followed the provided approach.

High Port turned out to be several structures bound by a ring. Two great spheres dominated the complex, though there were a few other modules set along the exterior ring. A complex near the center linked High Port to the planet below. Her head tilted slightly as she stared at the tether.

Is it bound to the surface? Or does it only hang into the atmosphere?

She guided the Dearg Due to the appointed landing pad, only activating the autopilot once she spotted a group of lanky figures waiting on her. The authorities had mentioned a 'Hego Damask'. The moment she heard the name, Gladiolus sunk into the dark side of the Force. A new name came to her as she mulled over the Muun name given to her:

Darth Plagueis.

I wonder, I wonder… Gladiolus thought as she rose to her feet. What do you expect of me, Hego Dama—no. Darth Plagueis. What do you seek from me? Do I factor into your plans to destroy the Jedi, or am I a complication?

Gladiolus grinned widely as her shuttle approached a landing pad. She headed for the ramp, dressed in her Sith garb. She raised her hood, masking most of the markings on her face. Her sulfuric eyes would still gleam from beneath the hood.

Landren Ullis scanned the gathered Muun with furrowed brows. When word reached him through a contact that Hego Damask had an interest in the shuttle landing presently, he had snuck over and joined the foolish number-crunching Muuns who volunteered to meet whomever Damask had an interest in. Given the Muun's connection with the Jedi and the Senate, the person aboard had to be important. He wondered about the nature of the VIP aboard.

They had to be important if someone like Hego Damask dealt with them.

The ramp lowered from the belly of the matte black shuttle. The design was certainly unique. Landren suspected it was an antique—but he could not fathom why they would use something not fresh off a Kuati manufacturing line.

A woman descended the ramp with clicking steps. Landren's gaze trailed up her form; shining boots hid dainty feet and developed calves. Her Nerf leather pants tucked into her boots, with most of her thighs and her hips hidden behind black silk wrapped to emulate a skirt. Her tunic rose to her neck, flowing smoothly over the curves as they rose and fell. She wore a thick cloak around her shoulders with the hood raised to cloak most her face. Only a series of black sharpened marks on her chin and jaw along with some black coating her lips were visible.

And then he caught her gaze. Yellow eyes, vile and fierce, burned in shadowed hollows. She stared into his soul, judging him. Landren needed to defend himself. Yet why should this woman judge him? What right did she have to judge a man of his making?

"Welcome to Muunilinst, Lord Gladiolus," a Muun said as he bowed, slow and low. "Our good friend and partner, Hego Damask, requested we greet you. We are to provide you with the finest comforts and leisure until he returns from business nearer to the Core."

"I appreciate the hospitality," she said with an accent of the Core, yet not. Landren failed to recognize the accent. He was confident in his ability to recognize any and all accents across the Core, along with most of the Expansion Region and half of the Inner Rim. Plenty from those regions attempted to pass themselves off as having come from the Core. Yet this woman did not sound like them. "I had hoped to find our good friend Hego Damask waiting on me, but I shall happily accept his offers of comfort until he can return." She then smiled pleasantly not at the Muuns, but at Landren. "Though I would request that he attend me until Hego's return. Surely you can cover his fees as well."

The Muuns shot furtive looks at Landren, as though he were not good enough to attend a woman of interest to Hego Damask. He tried to not fear the woman, for she had dragged him into Hego Damask's business. Few possessed wealth to the same degree as Damask—and men like Landren Ullis typically avoided their notice. Life was simpler that way.

"If it is a matter of companionship—"

"He alone will suffice." Her smile shifted from pleasant to threatening. "Else I shall make my displeasure known to Hego Damask, and he will know which fools insulted me."

The Muuns nodded, quickly agreeing to her demand. One near the rear of their pack turned aside and whispered to his assistant. Landren raised an eyebrow, curious if they were sending contacts to meet with his contacts. They would never finalize financial business openly with a spacer like him. It was simpler than risking this woman's wrath—or worse, ending up on Hego Damask's bad side. The aging Muun's connections made him a threat to just about anyone across the galaxy. Even the Hutts, who had outlasted threat after threat, slithered lightly around Damask.

Yet this woman spoke of Hego Damask with a degree of understanding and amusement that Landren almost hated her, despite the utility he hoped she would provide for him. He hoped association with this woman would improve his standing, especially since Muuns increasingly had more influence throughout the galactic north than the Senate. The fates and fortunes of billions—trillions, really—relied on their whims and financial decisions.

"If that's what the lady desires," Landren said as he stepped forward. He stopped before her and bowed slightly, an arm crossing his body. "I am Landren Ullis. A pleasure."

"A pleasure indeed," she murmured. "I am Lord Gladiolus of… Talravin."

Landren frowned. Two burning questions filled his mind, though he knew not which he wanted to ask first: why she claimed a man's title or if the world she claimed as hers actually was hers. He glanced at the watching Muuns and buried them so deep he might forget them. Hopefully, once he had this Lord Gladiolus alone, he could remember to try and ferret out answers.

He feared her answers might leave him with more questions.

He met her gaze once more. Those burning yellow eyes suggested that questioning her would ruin any hope of gaining status and connections from agreeing to escort her around High Port and, if the Muuns were kind enough, Harnaidan. She would desire to see the planet below. He knew that for certain. Landren only hoped Damask would accept a human showing his strange contact the shining gem of the Muun race first.

"We will find a suitable suite for you," a different Muun said, dragging Gladiolus's attention from Landren. "Damask's request came so suddenly that we had yet to assign you an appropriate suite, Lord Gladiolus."

"Take your time; but know I will judge your choice harshly. Hego Damask and I have a… deep connection. He will learn about all I witness while in your care. It would be wise to not offend him, or to offend me by proxy."

The Muuns nodded agreeably; Landren witnessed two wring their thin hands. Lord Gladiolus granted them only a moment more before she turned to him and said, "Come along, Landren. I am feeling rather peckish, and I do not know the most suited place to dine here." She smiled softly, appearing beautiful despite the disfiguring tattoos. "I hope you do not mind how I shall impress upon you. I am neither kind nor caring. I desire freely and fiercely, and I am ill-equipped to accept a 'no' from any companion of mine."

He nodded slowly, fearing he might regret accepting her "offer" to be her escort on High Port.

"I know a place. Please, follow me."

Landren offered Lord Gladiolus his arm. He doubted she would accept the offer, but he felt as though he needed to offer it. He saw them aplenty in the holos his mother enjoyed. To his pleasant surprise, the woman accepted. Her gauntleted hand wrapped around his elbow easily.

"Lead on, then," she whispered with a soft smile. Landren almost felt lucky to have her in his life. But those burning yellow eyes killed the feeling as he led her away from the landing pad.

Darth Plagueis, Dark Lord of the Sith, smiled thinly as a report arrived from High Port above Muunilinst. He had sensed the errant Sith Lord would find her way there after she sought out him and his apprentice, Darth Sidious, in the Force. She had failed to learn their names, whether it be as Sith or as movers in the galaxy, but he could not trust that she would remain completely ignorant. The moment she learned the truth of who they were, the plan began a thousand years ago by Darth Bane and his apprentice, Darth Zannah, would be at risk. None could interfere with the destruction of the Jedi and the revenge of the Sith. Not even another Sith Lord.

Especially not another Sith Lord. After all, the Rule of Two dictated only two Sith could exist at a time. One Sith was the Master, who embodied power in its purest form. The second Sith was the Apprentice, who coveted power and would acquire it until they finally had the strength to cast down their master. Once he had been the apprentice; now he was the master.

I will acquire immortality for myself, Plagueis thought. And should we destroy the Jedi before Sidious can succeed in deposing me as the Sith Master, then he will partake in it as well. Should he fail, he will die.

Plagueis would not consider the future in which his apprentice succeeded in deposing him. While that fate would follow the pattern established when Zannah slew Bane on Ambria after the recruitment of Darth Cognus, he had decided to reject it. Too much work needed to be done before he could perish from the galaxy. Immortality would guarantee he would have the time necessary.

He glanced at a reflection of himself; he had slowly acquired mechanical means of prolonging his life. Strength in the dark side had proven to be a double-edged blade. Yes, it granted him tremendous power and strength. But it affected his body. He had realized the truth, though that would not stop him from wielding the dark side's power. It gave him too much strength to be cast aside so easily.

For now, he would mind Darth Gladiolus. Soon, he would return to Muunilinst. There he would take her full measure. Either she would be used, or she would die.

Darth Gladiolus tried to listen to Landren Ullis's prattling as he guided her along what he called "The Hub, the ring binding most of the structures comprising High Port. But she could barely focus on his voice, for her mind focused on the currents and eddies of the Force. She sensed the attention of the Muun Sith Lord—his name was Darth Plagueis. Of that, she was dead certain of—but he was not in the Muunilinst system. But his presence in the Force was directed her way. He knew she was here, and he had an interest in her.

"…though I still cannot get my mind around the fact Hego Damask has an interest in you, Lord Gladiolus," Landren said as if complaining to himself. Gladiolus blinked; she did not know whom he spoke of, though she was confident in her belief that 'Hego Damask' and 'Darth Plagueis' referred to the same figure. "Those Muuns would have never treated another human the way they did unless you were too valuable or important to be offended. Yet… you do not strike me as a business partner."

"Not the business you're thinking of," Gladiolus replied. "We have a shared interest in orders of galactic antiquity. He has contracted me to hunt down items of interest without drawing the wrong eyes to him."

"Like the Jedi?" Landren asked, his gaze wandering her face and the black markings across it.

"Especially the Jedi," Gladiolus said with a wry smile. She had lowered her hood after departing the landing pad and swept aside her unruly hair. He had merely stared at the lines across her brow and the darkness around her eyes. "You know they dislike any interest in those who interacted with the Force differently than they do. They would come crashing down upon Damask and me if they knew the truth of our interests."

"He's quite impressive to keep secrets from them. The Force allows them to read minds, or so I have heard."

Gladiolus sniffed. "Whoever told you that rumor should be killed for their stupidity. Strange it exists, though. I suspect the Jedi gain influence from ignorance being spread. That's the only reason they permit stories of that nature to persist. For your information, the Force grants one the power to sense the feelings of others, not to read their minds. There is a tremendous difference between sensing a man's feelings and knowing his thoughts."

"You know an awful lot about the Force."

"I've had cause to learn about it; about what it can and cannot do, and about the philosophies of those who have wielded it for good and ill alike."

"A kind way to put it," Landren remarked. "Most would say 'good and evil', not 'good and ill'." He smiled wryly, as though he discovered amusement in her words and ideas. "I do not think I've ever heard one interested in the Force speak so honestly."

"You will find most speak honestly; they are only consumed by delusions of what the galaxy should be like, ignoring the harsh reality around them. They cannot admit to the complete truth, for it would shatter their perceptions. They rely on their delusions to make sense of the galaxy. Else they awake to the truth all they believe is false."

Landren turned forward. He fell silent and she sensed his mind processing her words. Gladiolus wished she could truly read his mind; while the combination of the Force and the magics she had been taught as a young woman could be used in tandem to achieve that great effect, she did not trust their combined powers enough to avoid accidentally alerting him to her intrusion. Landren might not be Force-sensitive, but he did not strike her as completely blind to its power. Eventually, he would notice.

Eventually, he would wizen up to her nature. She doubted he knew of the Sith—they had been extinct a thousand years—but he seemed aware enough of the Jedi to suspect what the Force was and how it could be used.

"I'm wondering…" Landren murmured. "Could the Jedi sense my feelings on Coruscant?"

Gladiolus chuckled thickly. "If a Jedi knew enough of you to suspect you as an enemy of theirs, perhaps yes. But as you are now? No. They will ignore your existence, just as they ignore the existence of trillions living their lives throughout the galaxy; millions, perhaps even billions waste away as slaves, yet what do they do? They hide in their temple on Coruscant, content to let others suffer as they await a day which may never come."

Landren nodded, accepting her words with ease. She knew not why the Jedi permitted slavers to operate across Known Space. Were Gladiolus in their shoes, she would have put an end to the practice a long, long time ago. Violence was required for a practice of that nature, just as it had been on Earth. Any slaver would have lost their right to live once caught, and those enslaved by them would have first right to execute their tormentor. The Hutts in particular must be brought to heel; they had been a thorn in the side of the Republic for millennia. For the Jedi to not act meant they had given up whatever moral high ground they presumed to possess in order to maintain themselves.

"Perhaps you should become a senator," Landren said. Gladiolus raised an eyebrow, uncertain if he meant to mock her or if he was serious. "You'd be more useful than half of them on Coruscant. Everyone knows it's become a den of corruption and bribery."

She scoffed lightly. "Why be a senator when I could seize control?"

"I do not believe the Jedi would allow that."

"Then I won't give them the choice."

The dead cannot object.

"…I guess that's possible. But are you certain you could really get the Jedi to go along with a dictatorship? They're sworn to defend the Republic."

"One cannot defend that which no longer exists."

Landren frowned.

"You claim that the Senate has become a den of corruption and bribery, Landren. As such, the democracy the Republic is reported to be no longer exists. Thus, the Republic does not exist. Not by any true mechanics that should define the system everyone claims to uphold."

"I never thought about it that way," Landren admitted. He rubbed the back of his head. "I've always assumed the Republic would just… go on. It's been around for a thousand years."

"As it currently exists, yes. But the concept of a Galactic Republic is as old as the Jedi—twenty thousand years old."

Landren whistled. "Fierfek. Never thought anything could persist that long."

"Hasn't always been easy for them," she remarked, recalling what she had learned about Lord Revan from Lady Bastila. "Four thousand years ago, give or take a few decades, a Jedi known as Revan betrayed the Republic and destroyed both them and the Jedi, if only for a time."

"Never heard of him."

"He lived four thousand years ago, Landren. I'd be surprised if you had."

He hummed. "Someone who could destroy both the Republic and the Jedi… he must've been fearsome."

"He was fearsome, and then he vanished. Everything he built collapsed without him. Those who could have held his empire together turned and destroyed each other, for they had never possessed the strength to maintain their grasp on galactic power." Gladiolus then shrugged. She knew little concerning the disappearance of Lord Revan and the collapse of his Sith Empire. Lady Bastila's holocron had been made shortly after the Sith Triumvirate had forced her into hiding. Much of what she had said was guesswork. "After that, the few Jedi remaining emerged from hiding and restored that which had been."

Landren whistled. "You know anything else about that 'Lord Revan'?"

"…a descendant of his led the Jedi against the Sith in a war three hundred years after Revan went missing. I know little else about her or any who lived and died during those three hundred years."

Thank you, Lord Malgus, for complaining about Satele Shan so often I will never forget her.

Gladiolus resisted the urge to sigh. Landren was too perceptive to ignore anything that would appear uncharacteristic to him.

"I guess after three hundred years, a family could switch from one side to the other. It's like my father's parents," Landren remarked. Without prompting, he continued. "They had been Corellians who decided to immigrate out to Ord Mantell after learning they had distant relatives who helped colonize the world. Problem they quickly ran into was that the criminal syndicates controlled just about everything you could imagine."

"I spent enough time on Ord Mantell to believe that," Gladiolus murmured, remembering how she stalked and slew a cabal of slavers. "I suspect they fell in with one of those syndicates, and thus your father and you were… born into a life of criminality."

Landren grimaced. "You guessed it easily. I shouldn't be surprised, since you're a confidant of Hego Damask." His grimace slipped into a softer, almost longing expression. "I wish it could have been another way, but that's the hand I was dealt by fate."

"You do not need to remain a slave to fate, Landren Ullis. You can carve a new path for yourself."

His gaze wandered as he considered her words. Gladiolus used the lull to scan their surroundings. The corridor screamed wealth and prestige; marble flooring and tapestries lined the walls. Mosaics coated every inch above, many displaying galactic myths and legends. She spotted a duel between a masked Sith Lord and a young Jedi Knight, blades swirling in their deathly dance. Beyond the duel was a mosaic displaying a hunt; beasts roared at men and aliens dressed in khaki garb, their blaster rifles proving oddly ineffective against the creature nearest them.

And everywhere she glanced, Gladiolus spotted gold.

"…it sounds mad, hearing you say it that way," Landren murmured. "Yet I cannot deny I'd like to break from the life I've long been trapped in." He shot her a piercing look. "When I caught word of Damask's interest in you, I had to hope getting involved would boost my fortune." He grinned, crooked and pleased. "Looks like my instinct might actually be on the mark. You're a remarkable woman, Gladiolus."

A shock of warmth flushed her cheeks. Gladiolus tried her damndest to ignore Landren's chuckle as her gaze swiveled forward. She lengthened her strides, which did little to inconvenience the man with her. He had nearly a half-head of height over her, which could have been more had she not secretly used the Force to bolster her growth following her ascension.

"Oh, don't be so embarrassed! I mean that in the politest manner possible!"

Gladiolus snarled and pressed onward. Until she could find somewhere truly private, she would maintain the disguise provided by the assumptions of everyone around her.

"Are you certain, Master?" Sidious asked. He stared at the holoprojection of Darth Plagueis, wondering what required his master's return to Muunilinst. Their plot to subvert the Senate into an organ of control for the Sith was about to move into motion. While Hego Damask was not required on Coruscant, it would smooth their course forward until Sidious could become chancellor and thus do away with his master. "Is this other Sith Lord making for Muunilinst?"

"She is already there, Lord Sidious. If she is permitted to act freely, she will expose us before it is time." Darth Plagueis paused for a few seconds before adding, "If she could be used as our pawn, then I may keep her around—for now."

Sidious frowned. It mattered not, by his reckoning, if the Jedi learned the Sith had returned after a thousand years. His plan would work, regardless of what the Jedi knew—beyond his true identity, naturally. All that mattered was forcing Chancellor Valorum from his post and seizing it under his public persona, Sheev Palpatine, Senator of Naboo. How that was achieved mattered little; only results mattered to a Sith Lord taught the wisdom of Darth Bane.

"If that is your wisdom, master, then I will follow your example."

"Good. Continue the plan, Lord Sidious. Soon, the first stage of our revenge shall begin."

With that, the holocomm vanished. Sidious waited only a second before he returned to his feet. He grimaced at how his knees ached. Soon, he would no longer be the apprentice. When the day arrived, he would forever remain on his feet. All would bow before him.

Nobody—not his master, not the Jedi, not even this 'Darth Gladiolus'—would prevent Darth Sidious from claiming the galaxy as his dominion.

He entered a different code into his holocomm. Twenty seconds later, a kneeling Zabrak in Sith robes appeared before him, kneeling.

"What is thy bidding, my master?" asked Darth Maul, Sidious's assassin.

The Sith Lord grinned widely. "I have a task for you, Lord Maul. It requires the utmost secrecy. You are to make for Muunilinst…"

Darth Gladiolus gazed upon Muunilinst from her suite, brooding on all she learned. Landren had headed to retrieve food for them; she would keep him around until her inevitable meeting with Darth Plagueis. She knew Hego Damask would be the one to summon her. That was the name for him known on High Port. Thanks to the stories provided by Landren, she had become impressed by Plagueis' machinations. His master had made a wise decision in selecting a pupil from the Muuns, who dominated galactic banking. She wondered how the Republic permitted that fate; arrogance and stupidity, she presumed. The Sith had gained a massive boon in making a Muun one of their number.

Plagueis sponsored senators and played a role in galactic affairs. Most notable by Gladiolus's reckoning was Senator Palpatine from a minor Mid Rim world called Naboo. He stuck out in her mind, though his unassuming nature quieted her suspicions. He dealt plenty with the Jedi, including several Jedi Masters and the Jedi Grand Master, a nine hundred-year-old alien simply called 'Yoda'. That he could operate on Coruscant, around the Jedi, and not be detected spoke volumes concerning his power in the Force.

Am I prepared for a confrontation with him? Gladiolus wondered. She rubbed her chin. …I would be arrogant to believe I could destroy him with ease, but it is possible. Yet he must be the product of a thousand years of careful preparation and training by the Sith who remained after Ruusan. He cannot be taken lightly.

Unfortunately, she knew next to nothing about the Sith following Ruusan. Gladiolus only had questions and theories concerning the Sith following Lord Salazar's departure and the destruction of the Brotherhood of Darkness, the Sith Order which perished at Ruusan.

If I knew about them and their ways, then I could prepare and plan around my coming meeting with Plagueis.

Though even if she possessed that knowledge, Gladiolus still needed to contend with the fact that Plagueis would dictate their meeting place. She presumed they would meet not on High Port but in Harnaidan, the Muun capital. It would separate her from both Landren—her sole ally in the system regardless of how useless he would be against a Sith Lord—and her shuttle. The tether linking Muunilinst and the station swayed just beyond view. Landren had called it a 'skyhook', yet she believed her term more accurate. The tether stretched the full distance from station to planet; all Gladiolus could think whenever she gazed upon it was how she might establish one on Earth—and where it should be raised. Africa, perhaps. That continent had the space, resources, manpower, and location to support a massive construction project of such nature.

Central Asia could work as well.

The suite door hissed open. Gladiolus sensed Landren enter, carrying a large warm box. She reached deeper into the Force, seeking to know what he ordered. Enough was unfamiliar that she could not say exactly what he acquired.

"I hope you do not mind that I ordered us nerf steaks with mashed potatoes and gravy," said Landren as she turned to face him. "That's the main course, at least. It's nothing special, but I can guarantee their quality."

"I expect nothing less of you, Landren." She strolled over to where he set the box down. The heart of the suite was a low glass table with two long sofas on each side. "You hear any rumors of Damask while you were about the station?"

He shook his head. "I would be shocked if he remains on Coruscant. I wouldn't expect him soon, though. It's almost forty hours transit from there to here. You should have a few days before you can expect to meet with him."

Gladiolus nodded slowly as she considered the transit times she experienced throughout her journeys. Hyperdrive motivators had grown more powerful or efficient in the millennia since Lord Salazar departed for Earth. She understood that was a natural consequence of time passing, but she had hoped transit times would be more comparable to what she had experienced. For the Dearg Due, she estimated it would likely take more than two full days to make the journey from the Core, even if she remained in hyperspace the entire way. No doubt Hego Damask would stop here and there, seeking to maximize on his trip from Coruscant to Muunilinst.

"A few days? You said it takes forty hours to cross from the Core to the Outer Rim. Certainly, he should be ready to see me on the day after next."

"But that's not how Muuns work, I'm afraid." Landren removed two covered plates from the box along with drinks and utensils. "He'll make you wait if an immediate meeting is not profitable."

"A meeting with me would be most certainly profitable for Damask. He would be a fool to make me wait."

"Oh, would he now?" Landren asked slyly as he uncovered their food. There was more than he claimed, and half was only vaguely recognizable. "And why ever would that be, hmm?"

"Because I have knowledge that he would kill for."

"Kill who? You? Someone else?"

Gladiolus merely smiled before turning to her meal. As Landren claimed, it was quite delicious. She focused on the food, trying not to think of it as a last meal given before an execution. Darth Plagueis was more likely to end her life than to keep her around. It was what she would do as a Sith Lord accustomed to secrecy as Plagueis must be.

After all, the foreboding that descended upon her whenever she thought of her rival Sith Lord told her that he would never take kindly to her presence. Unless she could reveal something he desired, he would seek to end her.

Her mind suddenly leaped back to the prophecy given about her and Voldemort, so long ago. She had glimpsed its words through the Force, despite her disdain for the prophecy and the wretch who had given it: 'Either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives.'

"You seem troubled," said Landren, managing to cut through Gladiolus's thoughts.

She offered him a quaint smile. "Only worries about what might come about from my meeting with Hego Damask. That's all."

Landren nodded hesitantly. "Well, we could make a day down on Muunilinst to help take your thoughts off him."

"That… That would be nice."

Darth Gladiolus turned back to her meal, wondering whether she could make use of their jaunt down to the planet below, or if it would merely be a tourist's day about an unfamiliar place. Regardless of which, she doubted Plagueis would be prepared for her to know Muunilinst—and for her to turn it against him, whenever their inevitable encounter came.

Landren waited near the skyhook down to Harnaidan. While it would be easier and simpler to fly down to the city below using Gladiolus's smooth, matte black shuttle, he believed it would be more appropriate to use the skyhook while on their tourist visit. She could save her flight for the meeting with Hego Damask. By Landren's reckoning, that Muun was too important for a meeting on High Port. He would call on Gladiolus and summon her to speak with him.

He glanced around the spacious chamber leading to Harnaidan Skyhook Boarding. The journey to the surface occurred regularly throughout the day; Landren had planned to take the second trip down and return as late as possible. Though he knew nothing would become of his interest in that strange woman Gladiolus, he could still try and get closer to her, despite the danger of that idea.

Clicking heels drew his attention to a dark-haired woman dressed in silvery shimmersilk with glowing green eyes. She approached him. Landren stared, uncertain how he recognized her, until she reached him and smiled. In that moment, he knew just who she was. He could not help the shocked thrill that ran through him. For but a fleeting second, that fierce, frightening woman vanished, leaving behind a sweet girl too young to wander the galaxy aimlessly.

"You clean up wonderfully," he said weakly. One of the few good memories from his childhood crawled up to the surface. On impulse, he reached out to take her hand.

Gladiolus proffered the nearer hand and smiled back, crooked and amused. "You provided quite the dress, good sir. It would be the height of impropriety to not wear it."

Landren pressed a soft kiss to her knuckles, heart hammering in his chest. Somehow he was not dead. Yet. "I had only hoped you'd wear it, my lady."

Her red lips parted a moment before pressing together into a thin line. A few seconds passed before she murmured, "I will permit your forwardness today. On any other day, I would remind you to call me 'lord', Landren. I care not for insults, regardless of your intention."

"Had you come to me as Lord Gladiolus, then I would name you accordingly. But you are a lady, um…"

"You may call me 'Edelweiss' on this day." Gladiolus smiled coyly. "But only on this day. She is an old face; a skin I set aside when I no longer required her."

Landren nodded, fearing what else he might learn by digging—intentional or not—into this woman's queer nature and history. While her eyes were now a natural color, they retained the strange glowing quality that first drove fear into him. Her face possessed less fierceness without the tattoos marring her wondrous beauty. Yet when she smiled upon him, it was not kind. That same fear gripped him as though he had suddenly drawn her wrath.

Yet she acted as though she was completely unaware of the fears and worries swirling through his mind. Gladiolus—Lady Edelweiss, he would risk calling her throughout the day—latched onto his arm, pressing her fair bosom against him. "So, what can I expect from this day on Muunilinst? Will we remain in Harnaidan? Or could I press upon you to explore the land around the city?"

"There's plenty for entertainment in Harnaidan. We could even go gambling if you have money to spare."

She sniffed. "Gambling's a fool's errand. Plus, I would… risk us being removed from the premises."

Landren nodded. He was not about to ask how or why she would get them removed from a casino. He believed she was Force-sensitive. He had discovered the term after some late-night reading. For a woman of the Core to be Force-sensitive and to not be a Jedi meant something was horribly amiss—or she had a secret he could not fathom.

"So you say, my dear."

Gladiolus glowered, a hint of yellow flickering amongst the green. "Be careful of what you call me, else I—"

"Leave the threats for tomorrow," Landren said drolly. "I'd like an enjoyable day with you, milady."

She glared but lost her opportunity to respond when an automated voice boomed from the skyhook: "All traffic to Harnaidan, please board. All traffic to Harnaidan, please board."

They boarded without issue, though Landren could almost feel Gladiolus's fury as he led her aboard.

Harnaidan sprawled with white marble buildings and oxidized green copper domes. Gladiolus gazed upon the city and thought of Rome, great and ancient, already caught in its decline. This city would perish in flame one day. Perhaps it would burn following her destruction of Darth Plagueis.

Her jaw clenched, thinking of the other Sith Lord. A wretched mood came upon her, thinking of how she must wait on him. She should intrude upon him and impose her will and presence upon him at a time and place of her choosing. But unfortunately, she had neither the ability nor the position to act so. She needed to be mindful of the Muun Sith Lord, for he had deceived the Jedi into believing him a friend. She was impressed by his success. But Gladiolus also knew that a gap existed between their powers. She knew not the gap between them, but she did not believe it unassailable.

He best not expect me to prostrate myself before him so that I might avoid a confrontation that I could not win—not as if I would lose to him, she thought bitterly. Gladiolus suspected what Plagueis would demand from her. He would want her loyalty, or he would take her head.

He's welcome to try.

A presence drew near to her. The admittedly useful fool Landren leaned in and whispered, "Please calm your face while you're thinking whatever horrible, frightening thoughts you're entertaining right now." His gaze wandered the skyhook's interior, drawing hers to follow. The Muuns nearest them stared, looks of astonishment and fear writ on their long, dull faces. She could almost taste their fear. "I doubt our welcoming hosts would be pleased to have someone so beautiful yet disturbing wandering their grand capital."

"I'll make an attempt," she grumbled. Gladiolus shot a filthy glare at a particularly curious Muun, trying to encroach on her 'conversation' with Landren. He blanched a deathly white as he turned his back to her. "But it'll only be an attempt. Hego Damask should know better than to force me to wait on him."

"Yet that is the game Muuns play. We must play it, unless we can play them."

She hummed thoughtfully. "I should try my hand at it, then." Gladiolus recalled something she had gleaned from Thrawn, the most dangerous of the Chiss she met during her process of forging an alliance with them. "Could you take me to an art museum? I would be greatly appreciative."

Landren blinked and then frowned at her. "An art museum? Why ever for?"

"I hope to learn more about the Muuns. Their art should reveal something to me, even if I struggle to understand them as I should."

He stared at her oddly. Landren then looked away with furrowed brows. She sensed his troubled mood. Gladiolus watched him a little while longer before turning to stare over Harnaidan once more. The city drew closer. She could almost smell its rot, and she sensed the hungry greed beneath her feet.

No wonder this world fell to the influence of the Sith. They would sell their children for a profit and care nothing of what becomes of them. Her brows furrowed. Should that be a galaxy the Sith desire? One where people happily sell others? Or should we strive for one of will? One where those who desire to rise can rise, and those lacking fall to their natural place at the bottom?

How fascinating that we speak of power and breaking chains, yet happily use those who would not bat an eye at wretched practices unbecoming of Sith Lords.

A sigh escaped the Sith Lord. Thoughts on philosophy should not come as naturally to her as they just had. Her mind should be focused on warfare, whether with the Force, the lightsaber, or the mind.

Darth Gladiolus stared upon Muunilinst and found herself wanting. She hoped Darth Plagueis would prove greater than his world.