"It has been two weeks since the Scourging of Savareen, where the Sith Lord Darth Cain utterly crushed the criminal forces gathering there with the alleged intent of raiding the desert planet of Tatooine, which fell under the Lord of Terror's umbrella when his apprentice brutally murdered Jabba the Hutt."
"Since then, the worlds of the Damocles Sector have overwhelmingly declared themselves in support of Perlia's intention of seceding from the Republic, which would mean the planet's withdrawal from the accords enforcing the spaceships' restrictions of the Ruusan Reformations. Due to the recent reveal that the Invincible, Darth Cain's flagship, was not in fact suffering from a disabled hyperdrive as had previously been claimed –"
Senator Padmé Amidala turned off the display, silencing the voice of the Holonet News reporter. She knew all of this – she knew more about it than the reporter, thanks to her position and sources. For instance, she knew that, contrary to what the newsbeing had insinuated, Darth Cain hadn't lied about the state of the Invincible : the ship's hyperdrive had indeed been disabled … until it had been repaired by none other than Anakin Skywalker, the Padawan who had helped save her world from the Trade Federation years before.
Which, admittedly, didn't change much when it came to the greater political and strategic situation, but did at least mean that Darth Cain hadn't lied to the Republic, which Padmé felt was a good sign. And, with how chaotic things were nowadays, she would take all of those she could get.
The woman who was one of the youngest Human Senators in galactic history (but not the youngest, as a quick search through the archives one slow afternoon had turned out), sighed and leaned back into her sinfully comfortable chair. The lounge area of the Consular-class cruiser (more commonly referred to as a Republic cruiser) Alderaanian Dawn was, in Padmé's opinion, just a touch more gaudy than she was comfortable with. But she wouldn't say anything about it out loud, especially since the owner of the ship, her esteemed colleague and dear friend, Bail Organa, sat in front of her.
R2-D2 was standing next to them, broadcasting a signal that would trump most spying devices. There should be no such device aboard the Alderaanian Dawn, of course, but Padmé had been a Senator for several years, and a certain degree of paranoia had unfortunately become ingrained habit by now. The little astromech had been the recipient of several improvements over the years she had taken it as her own following its exemplary contribution to the Battle of Naboo, and she had come to think of it as a cherished companion, even if she still needed a translator to understand it.
"So," began the Senator of Alderaan once they had both confirmed their various anti-spying countermeasures were up and running – though this was Bail's ship, there were other people aboard, and it was better to be safe than sorry. "Let's talk about Perlia one more time. You've read the transcript of Cain's declaration to the envoys, right ? The one where he explains his motivations for fighting a war against the Cartels and ending slavery in the Outer Rim ?"
"Yes," replied Padmé. "I must admit, this pursuit of growth through conflict he described doesn't make much sense to me." As a politician, she cleaved to the Republic's ideals of cooperation and strength through diversity, with peace as the foundation of prosperity. "But Cain is a Sith, and one who was trained by Darth Erebus to boot. Frankly, it's a miracle his philosophy led him to such a conclusion instead of something worse."
Padmé suppressed a shiver as she spoke. There were very few public records of Darth Erebus' activities during the First Great Galactic War : both the Republic and the Empire had gone to great lengths to erase as much of the Vile One's legacy as possible, and historians trying to uncover more had a tendency to go mad with horror and end their own lives. There were some who claimed this was the result of some ancient curse, but the Jedi believed it was merely due to the sheer extent of Erebus' depravity, which in Padmé's opinion was even worse than the curse explanation.
But she had uncovered enough during her own investigations to know it was a wonder Darth Cain was capable of basic conversation, let alone leading a Sith faction not as drenched in blood and cruelty as most of them. Given the Lord of Terror's various exploits since his return, that was something they should all be grateful for.
"I'm surprised by the degree of support we're seeing from the rest of Damocles, though," she continued. "I knew anti-Republic sentiment was growing all across the Outer Rim, but there's still quite a jump between resenting the Senate's inefficiency and jumping into bed with a Sith Lord."
The Damocles Sector had been part of the Sith Empire after the First Great Galactic War. Apart from Perlia, however, they had mostly forgotten that part of their history – probably because they hadn't had someone like Cain leading them, and instead more … typical Sith Lords and rulers. The fact that they were still willing to rally to Cain's banner despite that was a bitter reminder of how low the Republic's stock had gotten beyond the Middle Rim.
"From what he's told me over the holo, Donali isn't exactly enthusiastic about secession," said Bail, trying to comfort her. "But he will follow the people's decision and do everything in his power to make sure it works out for the best."
Technically, the Damocles Senator would lose all official authority the moment the Sector's secession was enacted, since he would no longer be needed to represent the worlds of the Sector to the rest of the Republic. But, unlike many Senators from the Outer Rim, Erasmus Donali was actually well-liked and respected by his constituents.
He'd spent his time in the Senate advocating for greater support from the Core to the Rim, and while he hadn't found much success, his people were aware that he'd at least tried. Which, sadly, was more than could be said for many of his peers, who were more interested in filling their pockets and enjoying Coruscant's luxuries than serving their electorate's interests.
So there was little doubt that Donali would continue to serve some function once the Damocles Sector parted ways with the Republic. If nothing else, Darth Cain would be a fool to let someone as experienced and well-known go, and the Sith Lord had proven himself no fool.
"It will be a shame to lose his voice in the Senate," sighed Padmé. "He's one of the few Senators from the Outer Rim who take his responsibility to his constituents seriously."
"Which is one of the reasons why the Separatist Movement is gathering so much support in the Outer Rim," pointed out Bail. "Truth be told, I don't think anyone can stop the Damocles Sector from leaving the Republic at this point. And who knows how many other systems will follow. With Count Dooku clearly supporting Darth Cain, even the reputation of the Sith won't be enough for many of them."
The fact that the Count of Serenno, who had been the public face of the Separatists for as long as there had been a Movement to speak of, was apparently willing to follow another's lead, had been a surprise to Padmé. Especially since the Count had been a Jedi once. She wasn't well versed in the esoteric mysteries of the Force, but she knew that the Jedi served its Light Side, while the Sith drew power from the Dark Side. Given the historical records which had become so widespread in recent months, it wasn't difficult to equal those sides to 'Good' and 'Evil' respectively.
"Dooku's focus, and that of the Separatist Movement, has always been against the Republic," said Bail. "But their central motivation is the good of the worlds they feel have been neglected or outright abused by the system. And destroying the Hutts' rule over the Outer Rim would certainly be a great step toward that goal."
"The Hutts don't actually rule the Outer Rim, not in the way we think of it," Padmé explained. "That's a convenient illusion they've fostered in the Republic, in order to present themselves as the 'legitimate' rulers of the systems they exploit – an unsavoury state of affairs, but still preferable to complete chaos and anarchy which might spread beyond their borders. In truth, outside of their garden worlds, the Hutts aren't a government, but exactly what their name implies : a cartel, a criminal group draining the wealth of entire civilizations to fill their coffers."
"One might say they aren't that different from the megacorps, then," Bail remarked, his serious expression banishing any notion that his words were in jest.
"Yes," agreed Padmé with equal seriousness. "One certainly might."
The fact that Nute Gunray had managed to retain his position as Viceroy of the Trade Federation after three full trials before the Supreme Court of the Republic, and was expected to go through the ongoing fourth without facing anything more than another series of fines that, while crippling to anyone else, would merely put a dent in his vast personal fortune, was a source of great frustration for the Naboo Senator. And she was painfully aware that, despite the suffering her people had endured during the occupation, Naboo had gotten off easy compared to most worlds targeted by the megacorps, whose plight would never make it on the Holonews.
Too many Republic citizens saw the Outer Rim as a lawless, backward expanse, fit only to produce raw resources for the industries of the Mid-Rim and the Core. That image, she knew, had been carefully cultivated in holodramas and biased news reports, most of which could unsurprisingly trace their financing to those very same megacorps which benefited from the Republic's general apathy to the Outer Rim's plight.
It was an infuriating situation, and one she could do precious little about.
"Between the Cartels and the corps, it isn't surprising that so many are in support of Darth Cain's actions," sighed Bail. "From their perspective, the Republic has failed them, doing nothing to help, while the Lord of Terror went on the offensive within days of his return."
"Speed is one of the advantages of autocracy, yes," replied Padmé. "But it has its flaws as well, as the denizens of the old Sith Empire could attest. Democracy is still the best system for the greater number … so long as it runs as it should," she added, leaving unspoken the fact that such wasn't the Republic's case, despite Palpatine's best efforts since taking office.
"You know you don't need to convince me," replied Bail with a small smile. Alderaan had long been a bastion of Republican ideals, and Bail was a true believer : it was why the two of them had become friends in the first place, beyond the aligned interests of their respective worlds. "But the Perlians aren't going to be so easily persuaded."
"Indeed. Like you said, at this point, Perlia's secession is inevitable, and preventing the Damocles Sector from following suit is a fool's hope. The question is how to prevent relations between the Republic and whatever new polity appears as a result from being outright hostile."
"That depends heavily on Darth Cain's goals." Bail gestured at the silent holo-screen. "I expected that the war against the Hutts would keep him occupied for the foreseeable future, but the Scouring is forcing me to reconsider. If he can pull off that kind of victory reliably against the Cartels, who knows how long it will be before the Sith flag flies over Nal Hutta itself ?"
"It won't be that easy," said Padmé. "Even if the Hutts cannot defeat him in battle, the sheer size of the Outer Rim will play against him. The Invincible can only be in one place at a time, and even after Savareen, the Hutts have plenty of disposable blaster fodder they can throw at defiant systems."
There was a reason the Hutts had remained a galactic power for so long, and it wasn't just because of their knack for consistently making themselves out as the lesser evil.
"Darth Cain must know this, though," Bail pointed out. "He is too skilled a strategist not to. Which means he has a plan to deal with the situation."
"Well, of course," agreed Padmé. "My best guess is that he will join forces with the Separatist Movement through Count Dooku and build some kind of unified Outer Rim army, dedicated to eradicating the influence of the Cartels. Dooku has been on Perlia as long as Donali himself : I wouldn't be surprised if they're in the final stages of hammering out the details of such an agreement."
Of course, the very existence of such an army would give ammunition to the warmongers in the Senate, who would call for the creation of a military of their own in order to defend the Republic from such an obvious potential enemy. Nevermind that even the likes of Darth Cain and Count Dooku were likely to be occupied for decades cleaning up the Outer Rim even if they somehow managed to break the Cartels' power. Once again, Padmé saw in her mind's eye how this could all too easily lead to an escalation which would tear the galaxy in two, not just politically (as seemed now to be inevitable) but militarily as well.
"It seems likely, yes," Bail nodded. "But if there's one thing Darth Cain has proven himself good at since his return, it's surprising everyone by making moves nobody saw coming. Still, if we are lucky, having an idealist like Count Dooku at his side will help keep the Lord of Terror from sliding back into his old ways," suggested Bail. "If the Count can help Cain appear 'civilised' to the Core, then maybe we can avoid a new Great Galactic War."
"I certainly hope so," Padmé agreed whole-heartedly. "Now, let's talk about our approach once we get to Perlia ourselves …"
Sitting cross-legged in her cabin aboard the Alderaanian Dawn, letting the Force flow through her as the ship sailed through hyperspace, Amberley thought back to her meeting with Master Yoda.
The Grand Master had asked her to meet him in private the day after the Council meeting where Skywalker's actions and Ciaphas' victory on Savareen had been discussed. At the time, she'd thought nothing of it : it only made sense to discuss the matter with her, given her experience with him. Instead, right after being let into Yoda's private quarters and handed a cup of (perfectly brewed) tea, the Grand Master had declared :
"From the Force, a vision, received I have. Of the past, long ago. Of the child who was Ciaphas."
She had frozen in place at hearing that name spoken by Yoda. Nobody knew what Darth Cain had been called before his ascension at the Sith Emperor's command : everyone who had known him then had died alongside Erebus. She had only learned the Lord of Terror's birth name years into their association, when they had gone from being occasional allies against mutual foes to something the rest of the Order would have taken a much dimmer view of.
Amberley had known Yoda would seek the guidance of the Force, obviously. The Jedi had not changed so much over the last three and a half thousand years. But for some reason, the thought that the secrets Ciaphas had kept for so long would be uncovered in this way had never crossed her mind.
She had wondered how much the Force had revealed to the Grandmaster, and what he was going to do about it. Then Yoda had continued :
"Seen glimpses of the Vile One's deeds, I have. Mourn for the children he took and broke, I do. To help the one who remains, I wish."
Oh. Of course, she had realized. She should have known.
Compassion. Somehow, out of all the ways in which she'd thought the Grand Master of the Jedi Order might react to learning more about Darth Cain's past, she hadn't considered this one – and she really should have. Especially in this peaceful era, one couldn't rise to lead the entire Order without being a deeply kind and compassionate being.
Perhaps, she'd reflected, she was too used to the Jedi leaders being hardened by the endless rigors and trials of the war against the Empire. It had been inevitable, she knew, perhaps even necessary (though there'd been plenty of debate on the subject even back in her time), but for all the great things the Knights of the Old Republic had achieved, there was no denying they'd paid an equally great price.
After that shocking revelation, the two of them had talked at length. She had shared many things with the Grandmaster, things she had thought she would have to take to her grave. Others, she had kept to herself, and she knew Yoda knew that too.
One of the things she had shared was her conviction that Darth Cain was a mask worn by Ciaphas, first in order to survive the murderous politics of the Sith Lords, and then because it was all he knew. And that, underneath that mask, was a genuinely good man, whose world-view had been warped by his past, yet who still sought to do the right thing.
Yoda had been surprised, but whatever it was he'd seen had been enough to convince him to trust her words on this matter. Ultimately, they had decided to keep the secret of Darth Cain's true nature, for the Lord of Terror's mask was needed to keep the other Sith under control. Not that the likes of Vaylin would believe the words of the Jedi Order on anything, let alone where her beloved Teacher was concerned.
At the very least, Amberley was now confident she and Yoda were on the same page when it came to preventing a reprise of the Galactic Wars. With the Invincible being repaired, fear of Darth Cain had increased a great deal, partially due to some irresponsible Holonews media suggesting the Lord of Terror could use the superdreadnought to raze Coruscant – which was ridiculous for so many reasons Amberley hadn't bothered listing them. So, having the Grand Master of the Jedi Order on side to keep people from panicking and doing something stupid was a great step in the right direction in Amberley's opinion.
When the new diplomatic party to Perlia had been announced, Yoda had asked her if she wanted to escort the Senators, given her expertise. She had accepted immediately : the more diplomatic ties existed between the Republic and Ciaphas' nascent Sith Empire (no matter whether he'd accepted it or not, or what it ended up being called in the end), the greater their chances to prevent war between the two states.
There was another reason for her joining the party, one far more personal : Amberley wanted to see Ciaphas. She wanted to hug him, to feel his presence in the Force close at hand rather than sense its echoes rippling across the galaxy. She also wanted to slap him for stressing her out that much, and getting himself into such a situation that had led to the Scouring in the first place.
Soon, she told herself. Right now, Ciaphas was still on Savareen, but he would return to Perlia soon, and she would see him again.
She just hoped nothing else dramatic happened before then. But, given Ciaphas' tumultuous relationship with luck, she wasn't holding her breath.
"Chancellor Palpatine," Dooku greeted the projected image of his Master. Unlike all the times the two of them had communicated in his private office on Serenno, he didn't kneel or even bow : he merely nodded, respectful but without giving any hint of subservience.
"Count Dooku," replied Palpatine. "Thank you for accepting to talk to me. I understand you are very busy these days."
"Things have certainly been interesting here on Perlia," he allowed, letting himself smile slightly.
The two of them had to be very careful. There was no telling whether or not the message would be intercepted by Cain's operatives, and so the conversation would seem entirely normal to anyone listening in : the Supreme Chancellor of the Galactic Republic contacting the former Jedi and current Count of Serenno and figurehead of the Separatist Movement to discuss diplomatic matters on a private channel.
Fortunately, both of them had carefully cultivated reputations as peace-seeking diplomats, so that when the time came to tear the galaxy in two, both of them could maintain a facade of being reluctantly forced to lead their respective side against the other. Even if word spread that they had spoken, neither would suffer a blow to their image – if anything, people would praise them for still being willing to talk to one another despite their differences.
On the surface, the two politicians were discussing the new diplomatic party on its way from Coruscant. The actual conversation, between Master and Apprentice, took place using code words and a sign language composed entirely of innocuous gestures one of Darth Bane's line had designed a few centuries ago. Given that Imperial Intelligence had tangled with Sith Lords during its entire existence, the two of them had decided prior to Dooku's departure for Perlia that they would only use this method in times of greatest needs, as every use ran the risk of the Lord of Terror's spies figuring out the trick and deciphering the language.
Eventually, the surface conversation ended, as politely and innocently as it had begun, and the Supreme Chancellor's hologram disappeared, leaving Dooku alone in his chamber.
The code was an extremely basic one, with a limited vocabulary. Over the course of their entire conversation, Sidious had only been able to slip a grand total of three coded sentences :
I have sent an agent on a mission to your location. They will contact you once their preparations are ready. Assist them in their mission.
That was it. No information as to who the agent was, or what their mission might be. There were other code words and passphrases Sidious would have taught this operative in order to authenticate themselves to Dooku, but the code didn't allow for such details to be passed along.
In return, Dooku had sent an equally brief message :
Understood. My allegiance to you remains unsuspected. Cain still believes you to be in the Outer Rim.
Dooku contemplated his situation, something he'd found himself doing more and more frequently of late. He had spent longer on Perlia than he'd expected when he had arrived, though in truth, the situation back then had been confusing enough that he hadn't known what to expect. His affairs on Serenno were in the hands of his trusted subordinates, and his work with the Separatist Movement was still going well, although obviously things had changed with Darth Cain's return and war against the Cartels.
The Count was walking a tight rope, and he knew it. He still hadn't told Sidious how Cain had seen through his disguise on their very first meeting, identifying him as a Darksider with a mere glance despite the Sith arts he'd used to conceal his change of allegiance from the rest of the galaxy's Force-sensitives. He knew that, had Sidious learned this, his position would have shifted from an ally in a useful position to a possibly catastrophic leak : all it would take was for Dooku to reveal Sidious' identity to Darth Cain, and … well, Dooku wasn't sure what exactly would happen, but he was fairly certain it wouldn't be to his Master's advantage.
And Sidious was aware of this possibility, of course. Therefore, it stood to reason that Dooku's Master had contingencies in place to eliminate him should he betray him to the Lord of Terror. Was that why this 'agent' was being sent to Perlia ? To kill the Count of Serenno in a way that would be blamed on Darth Cain, so as to weaken a rival's power while neutralizing a potential threat ?
It was possible. Which was why Dooku hadn't informed Sidious about this, though he hadn't outright lied, knowing his Master was much more likely to detect outright deceit. Instead, he had used the limitations of the code to his advantage. After all, it was (to his knowledge) true that Darth Cain still didn't know Dooku was related to the Sith Lord whose minion had attacked Perlia.
Another source of tension was that Dooku still didn't know what Cain's greater plans were. His triumph on Savareen had been a demonstration of his personal power, even before the Invincible had arrived to crush the Hutt fleet. In one fell swoop, the Lord of Terror had reminded the entire galaxy of what he was capable of, while augmenting his fleet with a number of captured vessels to supplement his flagship.
The Count of Serenno wondered if that was how things were going to be in the future : periods of quiet during which the followers of Cain built up infrastructure and resources, followed by a brief burst of activity, with the Sith Lord taking the lead and casually achieving the unthinkable, leaving his minions to scramble to catch up to him. It would certainly fit what the ancient records told of the man's actions during the Great Galactic Wars.
And then, to top it all off, there was the matter of Skywalker. Dooku had sensed his strength in the Force the moment he'd met him, but that potential had been raw, unfocused. He had thought it would take years for Skywalker to become someone of any real importance on the board, let alone a threat. Yet the boy had done what every Sith technician under Darth Cain's command had previously thought impossible, hastening the repairs of the Invincible's hyperdrive from months to hours.
Mere technical knowledge couldn't explain this. Even genius wasn't good enough to justify such a feat : it had to have been the Force at work, guiding the Padawan to accomplish something far more impactful than any display of telekinesis.
Once the boy returned to Perlia with Darth Cain and the Jedi envoys, Dooku would have to tread carefully around him. Skywalker was certain to have earned Cain's favor and attention for such a deed, and the Count would have to both be courteous and not reveal his Dark nature – for the boy was still a Padawan, and would without a doubt share it with his Master, which would be … awkward, to say the least. Dooku didn't want to fight Qui-Gon's student, and the fact it would be looked upon poorly by Darth Cain wasn't even the main reason why.
Dooku sighed, another thing he was doing more and more often these days. This … this wasn't what he had in mind when he'd left the Order. But even back then, he had known that great change wouldn't come without great effort.
For now, he would continue playing the role his Master expected of him, while remaining vigilant for any danger coming from Coruscant.
After all, he reflected, treachery was the way of the Sith.
Vice's Virtues emerged from hyperspace, one more step of the journey from Nal Hutta to Dathomir completed. In the pilot's cabin, Hanar started the automated engine checks, along with scans of the nameless, empty system in which she'd stopped – she didn't expect any trouble, but that didn't mean she should get sloppy – then got out of the pilot's chair.
The ship was a small, fast thing, with just enough cargo space for supplies for one and a crate or two of stolen valuables. But it was enough for Hanar to stretch her legs and brood on her situation. She had accepted Marlo's offer because, well, what else was she going to do ? Say no to the Hutt crime lord who had her in a cell ? Yeah, that would have gone really well.
After the disaster at Savareen, she knew she was lucky to be alive. Sure, her faulty intel on the Invincible didn't have anything to do with the utter carnage that had taken place on the planet, but it was the Sith flagship which had led the capture of most of the fleet the crime lord had gathered in the system.
At least the bastard had ordered her ship checked out and repaired free of charge, ostensibly so that she wouldn't die in an accident before she'd a chance to fulfil her mission for him. Of course, Hanar wasn't stupid : she knew Marlo's technicians had probably used the opportunity to fill the craft with spying and tracking devices. But while she couldn't do anything about the latter without risking to piss Marlo off, she had ways of dealing with the former, and Marlo would probably be disappointed in her if she didn't use them.
When the ship's holocomm rang with an incoming transmission and she saw who was calling her, she was very, very glad she'd taken the time to sweep the ship for bugs. This wasn't a conversation she wanted Marlo to hear – nor was it one she wanted to have herself, but she was darkly certain she couldn't afford to ignore the call.
With a sigh, she accepted the call, and a hooded figure appeared in the holo-projector.
"Hello, Miss Hanar," said a voice she had heard in her nightmares from time to time ever since the creep it belonged to had first strong-armed her into working for him. "I am most pleased to see that you're still alive. I had feared the worst, given recent events."
"No thanks to you," she spat back, just pissed off enough to not be as careful as she usually was when talking with the nameless figure (in her mind, she called him 'the Hooded Freak'). "That intel you wanted me to give to Marlo turned out to be a hot pile of poodoo, didn't it ?"
"I assure you, I truly believed the Invincible to be disabled at the time," he replied, still infuriatingly calm. "As a matter of fact, I have since learned the details of how exactly it is that it came to be in Savareen."
"Marlo would pay handsomely for that intel, but I can't be the one to give it to him, if that's why you're calling. No way he'll trust it coming from me now."
"Indeed, and that is not why I am contacting you. I am curious, what exactly does our dear Hutt friend have you do at present ? You are … my, my, quite some distance from his palace, aren't you. Unless, of course, you managed to escape his clutches on your own ?"
Kriff. They had been talking for less than two minutes, and he had already managed to track her ship – unless he was bluffing, but Hanar's instincts told her he wasn't. Had he put a tracker on her ship ? He must have, but when ? She hadn't been anywhere near the Core in years, and somehow she doubted the Hooded Freak had left Coruscant in a long time. Of course, that didn't mean he didn't have other people like her working for him …
She mentally shook her head, even as she let none of her thoughts show on her face, and replied aloud :
"Of course not. He let me out to do a job for you, like you said."
"And what," the Hooded Freak repeated, "is that ?"
Hanar really wanted to tell him to kriff himself, but she knew she was in enough trouble already without pissing him off.
"After what happened at Savareen, Marlo is worried about going up against the Sith without some Force-users of his own," she began explaining, hoping the Hutt wouldn't learn how quickly she'd shared his orders with her previous employer. "Since the Jedi aren't likely to help him, no matter how much he offers to pay them, he's told me to go recruit some cult of witches on a planet called Dathomir. They're supposed to have mystic powers of their own, different from both the Jedi and the Sith."
Not long ago, Hanar would have dismissed the whole thing as superstitious nonsense, but things had changed since the Lord of Terror had returned. She had watched the pictures of the blasted wasteland where the Sith had fought the Hutt mercenaries, as well as the reports Marlo had given her of the terror which had swept the fleet before Cain had made planetfall.
"… I see," replied the Hooded Freak after contemplating her words for a moment. "I have some knowledge of the world and witches in question. You may proceed with your mission," he decreed, as if he could've stopped her from doing Marlo's bidding all the way from Coruscant – which, kriff, she really hoped wasn't the case. "Do everything in your power to ensure it is a success. Do not let the witches' primitive appearance deceive you : they are as cunning as they are cruel. I will send you an information package with some of the relevant information, so you can at least avoid the kind of cultural faux-pas that will end with your animated corpse joining their undead legions."
That was an option ?! Hanar briefly reconsidered whether she should have just taken a blaster bolt to the head, before her good sense reasserted itself.
"Are you sure I can trust that intel anymore than I could trust the last bit of it you told me ?" she asked, daring to let a hint of her true feelings show in her voice.
"You are free to use the information I send you or dismiss it," the Hooded Freak shrugged. "I understand why you would doubt me after what happened, but I assure you, I wish for Marlo's victory in his struggle against Darth Cain. That man is a threat to the both of us, however unlikely our alliance might be."
Interesting. So, her theory about Hooded Freak being some kind of Republican big-wig who wanted to stop the Sith Lord but couldn't do it openly was probably right. Hanar didn't know what she could do with that information, but she still filed it away for later use.
"I wish you good luck on your mission, Miss Hanar," he said, every word dripping with unspoken menace. "I shall be in touch."
The holo-projector shut off as the connection was severed on the Hooded Freak's end, leaving the thief alone to mull on what had just happened. A few minutes later, her holocomm pinged with a new notification : she had just received a data package, which had gone through so many intermediaries before reaching her attempting to track it back to its source was a job for a slicer of far greater skill than her.
For a long moment, Hanar looked at the screen. Then, with a sigh, she sat down and prepared to read through the entire package. She didn't think the Hooded Freak would send her false intel to sabotage her mission on Dathomir, not so quickly, at least. And, though she hated being used as a pawn, she was still going to use every advantage she could in order to succeed.
At least, she reflected as she looked at the list of files in the package, she wouldn't be bored on her journey.
Mother Talzin watched as the small ship descended from the skies and landed in the mists of Dathomir. She could sense the singular mind aboard it, and the touch the great powers which had guided it to this world, where her sisterhood had resided for millennia.
"Mother," whispered one of the Nightsisters she'd brought with her on this expedition. "Are you certain this is the best path ?"
No, she wasn't, but she couldn't say so. That the Nightsister even dared to question her was proof enough of how unsure they all were of the course of action she had chosen : if Talzin herself were to show any hesitation, their confidence would completely crumble, and they would be doomed.
But, though Talzin wasn't certain of her chosen course of action, she still believed it to be the best out of a number of bad options. Months ago, she had felt the return of an ancient darkness, one which had been old long before the time of her people. While Dathomir was isolated from galactic affairs, the Nightsisters still had means of communicating with the rest of the galaxy, and it hadn't taken long for her to learn the source of the disturbance.
Before then, she had never heard the name of Darth Cain. That wasn't unusual : though the history of the Nightsisters stretched back centuries, the endless struggle between Jedi and Sith had gone on for millennia, the two dominant orders of Force users turning the entire galaxy into the battleground for their ancient feud. At the time, Talzin had believed that, even if Darth Cain was sensible enough to realize he couldn't challenge the Republic on his own, the Jedi would soon destroy Cain, unwilling to tolerate such a public threat to their prominence as the galaxy's most powerful and influential Force-users.
Instead, Cain had declared war on the Hutt Cartels through his apprentice. The very idea that a woman as powerful as Vaylin obviously was – for Talzin had sensed her power through her divinations, and it was mighty indeed – willingly served a mere male, even one as exceptional as Darth Cain, was an affront to the Nightsisters' tenets, but there was little Talzin could do about it. Watching the recording of her execution of Jabba and proclamation, it was obvious that Darth Cain had completely ensnared her in his web, even though she was so obviously his better.
Using that declaration of war, Cain had somehow managed to convince the Republican envoys that he had no hostile intentions toward the Republic. How the Jedi could have been so foolish as to believe those claims, Talzin still had no idea. Her first thought had been that the Sith Lord had used the Dark Side to bend the minds of the envoys, but surely the Jedi Council would have realized such an obvious ploy and taken it as a declaration of war.
The fact that hadn't happened meant that Darth Cain had to be a master manipulator of the highest order. That had only deepened Talzin's worries, and, then, two weeks ago, she'd felt the Lord of Terror proclaiming his power for all with ears to listen, as he bent the Dark Side to his will in order to break an entire army.
She had known, then, that if nothing changed, Darth Cain's victory over the Hutts was inevitable. Which, with the Republic unwilling to step in due to the Sith Lord's careful manipulations, left her only one option, dangerous though it may be. Isolation had served the Nightsisters well ever since their founding : they had remained distant from the Jedi Order, who had left them in peace despite their use of what they, in their holier-than-thou arrogance, decried as Dark arts.
But such isolation wouldn't work against a Sith, and she needed her sisters to understand that in order to avoid any incident going forward.
"Once, many, many years ago, long before any of our ancestors first set foot upon this world, it was under the dominion of the Sith," she began. "They enslaved it, used it for their own gain, to train their disciples before sending them off to join their wars in the stars – including one who would, in time, become their greatest champion as well as their destroyer, for such is the twisted way of the Sith than their greatest shall ever turn on the rest of them. Even now, centuries later, the scars of their reign still remain if you know where to look."
Talzin had seen those scars for herself, many years ago, when she had taken the trials to become the Clan Mother of the Nightsisters. There were things that dwelled there which even a Sith Lord would be wise to fear, born of ancient alchemy and sorcery followed by countless generations of breeding and evolution in caverns touched by the light of neither sun nor stars.
"I do not know exactly what game it is the Lord of Terror is playing by claiming he's fighting the Hutts to free the Outer Rim from their influence, but he is Sith," she continued. "And the Sith cannot, will not change their nature, no matter what veils they use to conceal it from others. His hunger for power will eventually lead him to us, and he will seek to subjugate us. When that happens, our only choice will be between submission and destruction – for though our collective sorcery might be a match for his power," and even that was far from certain, given the might he'd brought to bear on Savareen, "he would bring his legions with him, and they are far more experienced in warfare than us."
It wouldn't be the first time it happened. Years ago, Dathomir had been visited by a Sith, who had come claiming to want to share knowledge of the Dark Side with the Nightsisters. Talzin had welcomed him, but instead of making her his apprentice as promised, he had fled in the night, stealing her own son – a son he'd later sent to his doom, which she'd sensed echoing through the Force. She had spent long nights in her chambers, weeping at the bitter knowledge that there was nothing she could do to save him.
She wouldn't let the Sith take anything else from her, this she had vowed.
"That is why we must make alliance with the Hutts, however disgusting we might find the prospect," she concluded. "For, though they are cowardly, greedy, and vile, the Hutts are still reasonable beings, not consumed by the unending hunger that rules over all Sith, no matter what facade of sanity they project."
Around her, the Nightsisters nodded, understanding and acceptance blooming on their faces. Good. Now it was time for another performance, with someone who hadn't spent their entire life raised in a society that demanded constant reverence and obedience toward the Clan Mother. Talzin plastered a mysterious, all-knowing smile on her face, and walked toward the off-worlder, adjusting her approach so that, from their perspective, it would look like she'd materialized right out of the fog.
"Greetings, traveller," she declared, enjoying the way they jumped slightly at her sudden appearance. Behind her, the Nightsisters stayed back, forming vague, threatening silhouettes in the fog as they kept watch for any danger. "I am Talzin, Clan Mother of the Nightsisters, and you have come from very far away indeed to seek us."
"Esteemed Mother," the off-worlder – a Human woman, Talzin saw – said, bowing respectfully. "Your wisdom is visible in your words. I am called Hanar, and I come on behalf of another, who seeks an alliance with the Sisterhood against a common enemy."
Talzin already knew this, of course. Her visions had shown her Marlo the Hutt reaching out to the Nightsisters. After the humiliation he'd suffered at Savareen, the Hutt was desperately searching for allies. And of course, she had sensed the woman's arrival the moment her ship had descended through Dathomir's atmosphere and landed right in the Nightsisters' territory.
"What do the Hutts offer in exchange for our aid ?" Talzin asked. Allying with the Hutts might be in their own self-interest, but that didn't mean she wasn't going to use the opportunity to extort as much as she could from Marlo without earning his outright hostility.
"The great Marlo the Hutt has given me authority to promise you great riches," Hanar replied. "Treasure, weapons, technology, servants : whatever you might desire, he can grant in return for your help against the Sith."
For a long moment, Talzin remained silent, keeping her gaze locked on Hanar. She didn't need any of her mystical abilities to sense her nervousness : Hanar was scared of her, of this whole situation, but that wasn't all. She was afraid of failure, not just because of what might happen to her here, but because of what reporting failure to Marlo would mean for her.
Interesting. Talzin would make sure to remember that. She continued to stare for a few more seconds, her face still as stone, then, solemnly, she nodded.
"Very well," she declared, with all the gravitas she could muster. "The great Marlo's offer is of interest to us, for we are aware of the threat Darth Cain represents to the existing order of the Outer Rim. But such an alliance shall not be sealed with a representative, however esteemed in Marlo's eyes you might be."
"I'm afraid my ship doesn't have much to offer in terms of comfort," Hanar began hesitantly. "The great Marlo assumed that, once your agreement was secured, he would send greater vessels – ships whose arrival uninvited would have been an insult to you and your kin."
Talzin smiled, and waved her hand dismissively.
"Oh, fret not, Miss Hanar. I'm sure once you report back to your master, he will be more than happy to send another vessel fit to transport me and a suitable escort to Nal Hutta with the appropriate comfort."
"I … yes, esteemed Mother," Hanar nodded, before bowing once more. "You are correct. With your permission, I will contact him at once."
With that, the Human left, going back to her ship with almost unseemly haste. Talzin watched her walk away for a long moment, before turning away and walking into the fog, her Nightsisters forming around her as she began the walk back to their home.
The die was cast now, she thought ruefully. For better or worse, she and the Nightsisters were committed to this course. She could only hope Marlo would prove more competent a general than he'd shown so far.
Cad Bane walked into the bar, one hand never straying far from the gun at his hip. The bar was typical of its kind, no different from any of the hundreds of such dives Bane had visited in his life. Dark, dirty, offering a plethora of beverages catering to the tastes of a varied clientele – and no credit unless your face was known to the bartender.
The only thing of note about this particular bar was that it was located in a corner of a space station rather than on a planet. The space station, known to the pirates and outlaws of the Outer Rim as Port Maw, was a place where warbands could come to spend their ill-gotten gains under the benevolent (as long they kept up with their docking fees) gaze of the station's Hutt overlords.
Tracking his current quarry to that particular bar out of the hundreds of thousands which existed in the Outer Rim had taken a few days of investigation, but nothing Cad's extensive network of contacts couldn't help him with. Strictly speaking this wasn't part of the job he'd been hired to do, but the first part of that was putting together a crew. The Duros bounty hunter was good at what he did, but one of the reasons he'd lived long enough to become good at it was that he knew his limits.
If someone like Durge had managed to get himself killed fighting Cain, then Cad had no intention of crossing path with the Sith Lord. Fortunately, that wasn't what he'd been hired to do – telling his current employer no wouldn't have been good for his health, but still probably better than taking a contract on the Lord of Terror himself.
This particular job was going to take time to set up. He had until that new bunch of Senators left Perlia : his employer had been very particular that the job had to take place while the Republican diplomats were on the planet, and since they'd serve as a good distraction for the Sith security forces at worst and might do for a nice bunch of hostages in a pinch, Cad hadn't seen a reason to argue.
Time was going to be tight, though, but that was why he was being paid the big bucks.
Cad's gaze swept the bar, ignoring the looks everyone inside was giving him, and stopped on the white-skinned Palliduvan female with an antenna implant emerging from her skull sitting in a corner table. Keeping one hand close to his blaster, Cad slowly walked toward her – he didn't want her to think he was here to kill her, but he didn't want to show any weakness either, to her or the rest of the lowlifes in the bar – and sat opposite her.
"Hello, Sing," said the Duros.
"Bane," she replied neutrally, finally looking up from her drink – a concoction Cad was fairly sure would kill most sentients who tried it. "What do you want ?"
"You hear about the Perlian situation ?" he asked, lowering his voice so that it couldn't be heard over the noise of the bar, which, after a brief lull following the bounty hunter's entrance, was already picking up.
"Of course I have," she scoffed, following his lead and speaking softly. "I don't think there's anybody in the whole kriffing Rim who hasn't. What's that got to do with you ?"
"I'm putting together a crew for a job there," he told her bluntly. "And I got a feeling your talents would be a good fit for it, if you're interested."
"And risk getting into Cain's bad books ?" She narrowed her eyes at Cad. "I never took you for a fool, so I guess the real question is : what's the pay ?"
He told her, not even bothering to lie to downplay the amount. She would probably see through him if he tried, and this wasn't the kind of job where he could afford any double-crossing once the blaster bolts started flying. Not that he had anything against double-crossing on principle : he certainly had done more than his share himself, when the opportunity presented itself.
Aurra Sing stared at him, unable to completely conceal her eyes' widening at the sum.
"You sure your client's good for it ?" she asked eventually.
"Oh yeah," Cad nodded. "I've done some work for him in the past. Never quite so big as that, but the credits were there every time."
"… Fine, I'm in. Who else are you looking for ?"
"Oh ?" he teased her. "So sure the two of us aren't going to be enough ?"
"Please, Bane," she said in a dry tone. "You know I'm not an amateur, that's why you came to recruit me."
True. The two of them had already worked together on several jobs in the past, and while they weren't friends – there were no 'friends' in this job, just potential future targets – they respected each other's skills.
"We got a couple more people I want to find while I'm on the station," he conceded. "Finish your drink, and we'll go find them."
"Fine. And what exactly are we doing on Perlia ? I'm warning you, if it's offing the big man, I'm going to need a bigger cut."
"Oh, no," Cad shook his head. He didn't think Cain was invincible, no matter what his propaganda teams were doing a great job at convincing the galaxy, but he wasn't an idiot, either. "If things go well, we won't even meet the man. No, Sing, we're going to rob his vault."
If there was one thing all the power and influence I had accidentally gathered in my life couldn't help me with, it was paperwork. Being known as one of the few Sith Lords in history who wouldn't randomly execute a subordinate for bringing an issue to their attention meant that, when there was an issue, my subordinates actually brought it to me instead of trying to hide the problem so they wouldn't be punished for things outside of their control – which, inevitably, led to said problem becoming bigger and bigger until it eventually was discovered by the Sith Lord anyway.
So, while I knew without the shadow of a doubt that it was preferable to the alternative, it did mean that I had spent most of my time since that battle in the desert sitting behind a desk, reading reports and signing off on courses of action suggested by people who actually knew what they were doing.
My desire to avoid being seen as a bloodthirsty maniac by the Republic by not executing every Hutt mercenary we'd taken captive out of hand and instead giving them lawful trials had come back to haunt me, as I'd known it would. As it turned out, many of the criminals who'd surrendered to us rather than face certain death at the guns of the Invincible had warrants out for their arrests in numerous star systems.
Since the same criminal couldn't be executed twice on two different planets, a compromise of sorts had been decided. Representatives from the concerned systems had been invited to come to Savareen with the appropriate documentation so that it could be processed, and they could serve as witnesses to the punishments then delivered.
Malden and the other spooks were compiling the information brought by the plaintiffs, while also taking advantage of meeting so many people from so many different systems to continue weaving their webs of contacts, informants and spies anew.
The end result of all that was that I had spent weeks reading through compilations of various criminal acts, which ranged from common thuggery to deeds that wouldn't have looked out of place in the biographies of some of my more deranged peers back in the Sith Empire. At least I hadn't needed to swing my lightsaber personally to execute all those condemned to death : I had hundreds of soldiers perfectly willing to serve as part of the firing squads, and my shoulders might not have survived executing so many of the Outer Rim's scum.
Other Sith Lords might have tried to recruit the criminals instead, to conscript them as blaster fodder to bolster their legions, but I knew better. That kind of thing always ended up being more trouble than it was worth, either because the criminals turned on their handlers regardless of how many explosive collars you put around their necks, or a charismatic Jedi freed them and roused them to rebellion and joining the side of justice, freedom, and not being fried with Force Lightning at the drop of a hat.
I hadn't quite put it in those terms to my subordinates, of course. As far as they were concerned, the Lord of Terror simply refused to lower the standards for armed forces under his command, even when faced with the might of the Hutt Cartels. Somehow, instead of taking this as proof that my ego had overtaken my good sense, they were proud of it.
As an additional bonus, so long as I was away from Perlia, I couldn't sign the system's declaration of secession and create a whole new bunch of problems for myself down the line. But that tactic could only go so far, and now that a new bunch of Senators had (for some Force-forsaken reason) decided to make the trip to my adopted homeworld, I couldn't delay my return for much longer.
Besides, Amberley was there too. I missed her more than I would ever admit to anyone except her, and not just because she was the only person in the galaxy with whom I could be completely honest.
Speaking of Jedi, the three who'd come along the Invincible were overseeing the tribunals to 'make sure there weren't any irregularities', which I'd taken to mean 'no sentient rights abuse'. A perfectly understandable concern, and one I'd indulged several times in the past. Nothing surprised a Jedi or Republic General more than a Sith Lord being willing to let them visit the prison camps where their surrendered soldiers were being held captive, without it being part of some trap or plot, and keeping your opposition off-balance was always a worthwhile endeavour.
I would normally have been worried about the three of them wandering around my forces, but after the stunt Skywalker had pulled with the Invincible's hyperdrive, the troops had started regarding the Padawan and his associates with the kind of awed respect they'd reserved for people like Imperius and the Wrath before our journey through time. Besides, I'd assigned Vaylin to accompany them, as much to get her out of my hair as because I thought hanging around with people who weren't Academy-trained Sith acolytes or Imperial Army soldiers would be good for her mental health.
My holocomm beeped with an incoming transmission, and after looking at the caller ID and checking with JURG-N that the anti-listening measures were still in place, I accepted the call. Lio Trevellyan's projected image appeared immediately, the transmission more than a bit patchy due to the poor quality of the Holonet relays in the region, but still understandable.
"Sovereign Cain," he said with a deep bow.
"Prime Minister," I greeted him. "What news from Perlia ? I trust the reception of our new friends from Coruscant went well ?"
Force, let it be so. I really didn't need a diplomatic crisis on top of everything else.
"Indeed it did, my lord," replied Trevellyan. "We welcomed them with all the honor and ceremony befitting their rank, but we still need you to be here for the actual diplomatic work."
"I should be back soon," I told him. "Things are settling down here : I am planning to take the Invincible back home in a couple of days. Do you have anything else to report ?"
"Yes, my lord," he replied, and I silently cursed. In my experience, unexpected news were always trouble. "We have received another pair of visitors. Force-users, here to speak with you on a matter related to the Hutt Cartels' war efforts against us. They are accompanied by a rather large number of varied sentients who share their goal – and, perhaps more importantly, the elder of the pair introduced himself as Jedi Knight Ky Narec."
I blinked, surprised. "Really ? I expected it to take more time before the first Jedi started showing up to join our crusade against slavery."
Much as I would have liked to say I hadn't expected any Jedi to join, that would have been a bold-faced lie. I knew from the bad old days how much the Jedi liked to meddle in everything : during the Great Galactic Wars, you couldn't Force-throw a rancor without it hitting a Knight who had somehow managed to discover the location of the secret base whose commander insisted was completely impossible to detect.
(Alright, that exact scenario had only happened to me once, but my point still stood.)
"From what I understand, the Jedi in question might be believed dead by the rest of the Order, and his student isn't exactly a typical Padawan either," Trevellyan explained. "I'm not versed in such spiritual matters, of course, and they didn't share much of their past, but it didn't take a lot of insight to see that she harbours a lot of anger."
Oh, brilliant. I could already sense the glares the Jedi Council would send my way once they got it in their heads that I was poaching their members to join my side. I was already in enough trouble with everyone I'd brought with me from Perlia believing I was running some kind of long scheme to turn Skywalker to the Dark Side without giving them more 'proof' of my corruptive intentions.
"Has Knight Vail been informed of their presence ?" I asked.
"No, my lord. They asked that their presence be kept from the Republic representatives if at all possible."
"See if you can convince them that they can trust Knight Vail to hear them out," I ordered. Amberley wouldn't be happy with me for throwing this into her lap, but she would understand.
"As you command, my lord."
After a few more pleasantries, the transmission ended, and I leaned back into my chair, sighing.
"Is everything alright, sir ?" asked JURG-N.
"As much as I could expect, I suppose," I replied, before looking down at the pile of datapads on my desk.
Once more into the breach, then, I told myself, picking up the one on top of the pile. Somehow, I was sure this part of the job wasn't one the talking heads on the Holonews mentioned when they were talking about the Lord of Terror Darth Cain.
AN : And we are back, with another chapter that ended up surpassing my length expectations by a large margin.
The last chapter had a lost of positive reactions, and a lot of cursing a certain individual, which tells me I did my job right.
About the Mother Talzin POV, there is one thing I have realized as I wrote this chapter. And there is no nice way to say it : Mother Tarzin is ... not a very good schemer. I mean, she talks a big game, and she's got the whole "mysterious witch" thing down pat, but when you look at the outcome of every single one of her schemes, it all leads to Grievous being sent by Dooku and destroying her entire people with insulting ease.
I went with Talzin as Maul's mother instead of Kycina, because Sidious stealing someone's son to use as a weapon seems much more in character for him - plus, it gives me another reason why Talzin would be so firmly opposed to Cain. Once again, remember that this story is a patchwork of lore elements from Legends and Canon, depending on what seems most interesting to me.
Also, naming each chapter instead of just going with "Chapter X" is something I'm already starting to regret.
As always, I hope you enjoyed reading this chapter, and look forward to your thoughts and suggestions.
Zahariel out.