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Chapter Text

12 ATC
Refugee Camp Herf-7,
Curovao, Brentaal IV

The early evening sun was warm and comforting in the refugee camp that had been set up to house the refugees coming in from Buri VII. The light breeze carried sounds of crates being unloaded and people counting, with relief, the number of family and friends who had made it to their temporary home.

Republic Soldiers and Jedi worked among the volunteers of the Peace Brigade to help the refugees settle in more easily. Vajra Devarath, the Hero of Tython, Jedi Marshall, and now called the ‘Crown Reaper’ for slaying two Emperors, was one of them. His trusted friend T7-01 trailed along by his side, helping with electronics and locks.

Vajra felt a sense of accomplishment after helping the last family unload their possessions.

“We managed to save most of our tools,” the matriarch said, though tears ran down her cheeks. Her husband’s smile was slightly strained.

“What was your profession?”

“We were blacksmiths,” the eldest son said. “We used to fix all the metal implements the farmers and other tradesmen used.”

“I’m sure you can rebuild your lives here. I hope you prosper in your new home.”

He left the family and weaved his way towards the makeshift community center that had been set up. It was a common area which had a cantina, a stage, enough seating for all hundred and fifteen adult refugees, and some recreational facilities. Those refugees who had finished unpacking already had made their way to this place to see what it had to offer. Some had ordered drinks and food, some were checking up on their friends and neighbors, and some had convinced the young children to start an impromptu play on the stage.

The holoprojector in the middle was playing the news; the Novacon reporter gravely informed her audience about the progress of sieges and skirmishes all across the battlefield.

Vajra clenched his teeth. He did not want to think about the fighting right now. But there was never any escaping it. Even the children were doing a play about the war hero Jace Malcom.

He sighed and waved over one of the droids in the supplies section.

“I stand ready, Master Jedi,” the droid spoke in an androgynous voice.

“How is the supply situation?”

“Not bad, sir. Not good, but not bad. We have enough for a week, if we ration things out starting tomorrow. But the next shipment should arrive right before we run out barring some major tragedy.”

Vajra wanted to groan. They were at war, and saying stuff like that was a good way of inviting trouble.

“Is there anything I can do to encourage the shipment to arrive sooner?”

“Not to worry, sir. The shipment has already been greenlit. It is being set aside and readied for transport as we speak. It will have to be a huge catastrophe that redirects that shipment— Sir!” the tone of voice shifted to panic. It pointed at the projector. “Catastrophe!”

That last was far louder than it should have been, and every pair of eyes had jumped to the screen.

The projection had started flashing red, and all headlines had been cleared as a fresh one was being furiously typed. The scenery behind the now deeply shaken reporter showed a structure Vajra was intimately familiar with.

The Jedi Temple!

“This just in, dear viewers,” the reporter said. She looked deeply alarmed. “We have received a priority statement from the Supreme Commander Malcolm's office. The Jedi Temple on Tython has just been attacked.”

Vajra’s jaw dropped. His third eye shot open, and the Fractures of the galaxy became much more prominent to his Perception. Power pulsed through his body, slowing the passage of time down to almost half. He felt like a blasting spear waiting to be loosed upon his enemies.

No! he thought. Not now!

He was just starting to sleep well again! His phantom accusers had finally fallen silent at last, and the night terrors that had banished his capacity for restful slumber had abated. He had eaten two whole meals yesterday. He was not ready to be thrust back into the heart.

But could he idly stand by?

‘Yes, actually!’ A voice in his head soothed him. ‘We were ordered here after all. Unless there has been a call for all available Jedi to return...’

“All communications have been cut off,” the reporter continued. “But hundreds were confirmed dead before the last transmission. We do not know how the Empire managed to launch another devastating assault on one of our key worlds, but it is clear someone blundered, and blundered badly for a breach of this scale to occur. Despite war having raged on for almost forty years now, this attack is the one that comes closest to matching the horror of the sack of Coruscant. For it struck at our only weapon against the Sith; the Jedi. Hopes had started to rise lately after Jedi master Vajra Devarath struck down the Emperor of the Sith three years ago, then Malgus, the butcher of Coruscant himself a few months later. But with this brutal attack, the Sith have proven that even without their heads, they are still a beast to be reckoned with.” She looked at the prompter beside the camera and blanched. “Excuse us, gentlebeings. We have more breaking news. A trusted source tells us that Master Vajra was among the fallen. I ask my viewers to join us as we observe a moment of silence for our greatest hero.”

For a moment, Vajra gaped at his own image staring back at him from the holoprojector. Then he shook off his shock and walked over to the projector. “Not to worry everyone!” he said, standing as close to his hologram as he could. “I don’t think I’m dead yet!”

There was a round of nervous laughter.

“You all have your own burdens here,” he continued. “Forget about the war for a spell. Try to enjoy the respite. The Sith should be repulsed from Tython soon, I promise.” He waved at a droid. “Would you mind letting them know I’m alive, and request an apology for spreading unverified reports?”

“At once, Master Jedi!”

Vajra quickly made for a secure comm booth, beckoning Tee Seven to come with him. Once inside, he fished out his datapad and entered Kira’s comm frequency into it.

She picked it up at once. Her face was pale. “Hey, Boss. I was just about to call you. They just reported you dead!”

“I take it you’re not anywhere near Tython?”

“No, I’m on Nar Shaddaa. What about you and T7?”

“Brentaal IV. Refugee resettlement.”

She looked relieved. “I’m glad. I know the galaxy thinks you can do anything, beat anyone, but I know better. I’ve seen how you’re suffering. You were in no shape to fight the last time I saw you.”

“Whatever shape I’m in, I don’t think my shore leave will last much longer.”

“I know. How do you feel about it?”

Vajra sighed. “I feel like... this is what I was made for. Fighting. Killing.”

“The word you’re looking for is ‘Protecting’, tough guy.”

“Right. I need to call Jasme. I’ll call again later. I’m so glad you’re safe.”

“Why don’t you just patch her in? I’d like to see that she’s safe too.”

“Okay.”

He punched in the archaeologist’s holo frequency, and together with Kira, he prayed. There was no answer. He tried again, hoping she was just too caught up in the news to hear.

Please... Please be alright Jasme.

*

Days earlier,
Vaiken Spacedock

War is hours spent fighting, and weeks waiting.

Lord Hekaten Kallig, otherwise known as Darth Nox, was used to this truth by now. One had to find ways to pass the time. Some soldiers and Sith did it with meditation, some by sleeping. Others, by finding hobbies that could be indulged in packed halls.

Nox spent that time in study. Part of the reason was because he loved it, but the greater part was that as the Head of the Pyramid of Ancient Knowledge, it was expected that he be learned.

Problem was, he'd spent more than half his life as a slave before being selected to become an acolyte. A pedigree as lowly as that meant that even in the Sith Academy, he was rarely allowed to read up. He had rarely been given access to the Holocron library. A lot of his lessons had involved being thrust into the dangerous wastes outside the Academy, and figure out the Force by herself. The closest he had come to proper lessons were the uncaring tutors tasked with ensuring that every student, no matter how lowly, had some basic knowledge of the Force.

Once Zash had taken him under her wing, she had opened up her libraries to him; but Nox had often been too busy to dedicate more than a few hours each week to learning. Not nearly enough time to make up for a lifetime of lost learning.

It wasn't until Zash needed him travelling the Galaxy—when Nox had a ship of his own, and days spent in transit—that was when he had finally begun to fill in the chasms in his knowledge.

History was what he missed most dearly, and what he spent the bulk of his time on aside from the study of the Force itself.

Absorbed though he was, he didn’t Sense the quiet presence of his host's most trusted advisor.

“Excuse me, Dark Lord.”

“UWAAAH! Ah! Oh, um. Hello, Lana.”

“Forgive me of startling you. I didn’t mean to intrude.”

“Just as well. I was getting far too absorbed. Careless of me. Do you need something from me?”

“Actually, I came to inform you that our final guests will be arriving in a few moments. Darth Arkous has requested you to join us for the briefing. Perhaps we can pick up where we left off later?”

“So, it’s starting already?” Nox leapt to his feet. “Finally! Lead the way please!"

*

Nox followed the blonde Sith out of the Lounge, and into the mission control room on the opposite side of the corridor. He didn't know what to make of this woman, who was a litany of contradictions.

She was Sith, yet was very different from the stereotype. She was calm and relaxed, and spent almost no time in pursuing personal advancement. Which wasn't to say she was emotionless or unambitious. Yes, Nox could sense those, underneath the surface.

But he Sensed no hatred, anger, arrogance, lust, love, or even devotion.

But despite not seeking glory or power or even her Lord's approval, there was no doubt that Lana Beniko was a highly driven woman. It was just that so far as Nox could tell, Lana's biggest drive was her desire to learn and grow.

Much like Nox himself. That made him feel a certain kinship with the pale woman, but years of dealing with other Sith made him especially suspicious of those that seemed to be reasonable.

After all, his Master Zash had tried to portray herself as a scholar at first. Back before she'd betrayed him. That betrayal had broken Nox's heart—for he had come to love his Master, despite his ancestor's ghost constantly warning him to be on his guard.

After that betrayal, Nox had never trusted another Sith so easily again. Not even Tiarna Rooks, currently his closest ally.

He followed Lana into the next room, where Darth Arkous gave him a polite grin. And then, he sat down to wait for their guests. It wasn’t a long wait; in less than a minute he could Sense the guest's approach. Difficult not to: whoever they were strong in the Dark Side. It wasn't Darth Marr though.

He heard the lift come to a halt on this level, then the doors parted again and revealed their long-awaited guests.

Darth Nox inhaled softly. It was Darth Occlus, his colleague on the Council.

*

Darth Occlus gave his colleagues a wide smirk as he entered. There were four people in the room. Dark Council members Darths Arkous—who had been the one to invite him—and Nox, whom he had disliked at first, but had warmed up to since Ilum. The other two were a pale, pale human woman and a Chagrian who was channelling his rage.

“Welcome, my friends, welcome! Please, come right in. Make yourselves at home!”

Occlus deposited his helmet and gauntlets on the table. He’d been tempted to bring Darth Atroxa with him, but felt glad he’d desisted. Unlike him, she hated the other Twi’lek in the room. He didn’t really understand the animosity between them—they were both of the same race, though she came from much higher stock.

“Captain Torm here helps me with strategy. The others are my bodyguards. I hope you don’t mind my bringing them along.”

“Not at all, my friend,” Arkous said, tilting his head to the men. “Do be advised though, if you stay for the briefing but do not join in the assault, you will have to remain in operational quarantine until the mission ends.”

The men bowed low and nodded their understanding.

“As Minister of Military Offense, I have repeatedly enjoyed the fruits of your labor. You have heard of my colleague, Darth Nox.” The purple Twi’lek waved a hand lazily. “This is my trusted advisor Lana Beniko,” he indicated the human woman “—and that is Lord Goh.”

“It is an honor to have you with us, Dark Lord,” Lord Lana said. Her voice was quiet, but held a power that Occlus couldn’t help but notice. “So much strength I sense in you both. After all the wars you’ve participated in, to stand here now is quite an achievement.”

“I can Sense your own strength,” Occlus said. “It is considerable.”

“I have always been fortunate in that regard. You have been invited here for an act that has till now been thought impossible: a ground assault on the Jedi Temple on Tython.”

Arkous picked up the thread. “Promising leads have been scarce since Imperial Intelligence was effectively disbanded. However, a source I personally trust has alerted me to a hole in Tython's defenses. If we act fast and strike hard, it will absolutely ruin Republic morale.”

“Beyond that,” Darth Nox spoke up. “If we can capture their Archives, we will be rewarded with a trove of knowledge of Jedi secret histories. Forbidden secrets, forgotten tombs and caches of dark Jedi, secret histories and philosophies. We've been losing ground fast since Corellia. This might be our chance to reverse our fortunes in this war.”

“Has the location of the one who killed the Emperor been confirmed? Is the Crown Reaper on Tython?”

“Jedi Knight Devarath is on Brentaal IV at the moment. From what we can tell, he needed a reprieve from the front lines, but didn't want to retreat all the way to Tython.”

“That’s a relief. If he was down there, I doubt the Temple could be taken without significant losses.” If even then.

“He's not the only one currently not on Tython. I wasn't exaggerating when I said defenses are currently weak.”

That perked up his ears. “How many real threats are down there?”

“Just one,” Lana responded. “Battlemaster Oric Traless.”

“Battlemaster?” Occlus chuckled. “It will still be an interesting fight then. I'm in. Not that there was any doubt. Will any of you be joining us?”

“Darth Arkous and I will be in orbit,” Lana said. “While he oversees the entire assault, I'll be your personal contact from the flagship.”

“And I intend to join you on the ground,” Nox said. “In case I've done a poor job showing it, I really do want to see that library for myself. I'll watch your back out there.”

“And Lord Goh will be tasked with holding on to the archives for as long as possible once we begin to pull out.” Arkous finished. “Any questions?”

Occlus looked at his aide, who cleared his throat. “Dark Lord. How long do you expect our window to last? How long do we have down there?”

“The window should open in eleven hours," Arkous replied. “And should be open for twenty-five more. I want my colleagues out in seven.”

“Are there any special resources we can tap while we are down there if we run into any trouble?”

“A team of the Imperial Guard has volunteered to join this assault. They were most displeased to find that neither Master Shan nor Devarath were on site, but this will serve as an appetizer for them. They have agreed to serve under you both. In addition, three clans of Mandalorians are eager for the blood of Jedi. We have also recruited the most elite mercenaries for special objectives, such as seeking out and engaging high ranking officers.”

“No further questions, Dark Lord.”

Occlus sampled some of Arkous’ wine before speaking. “Right then. I'm ready to leave.”

*

Concurrently,
Carrick Station

It was expected to find off-duty soldiers out on dates on Carrick Station. But Roban hadn’t expected to ever see his former subordinate, Captain Elara Dorne, out on a date. Not here, at least, and especially not with a briefing in twenty minutes. She normally took pains to make sure she had at least an hour free before she was on duty again.

She must really like her date, Roban thought. They were kissing quite often between bites, and she was resting her head on his shoulder.

He wanted to keep walking, but he was heading to the same briefing she’d be at, so part of him hesitated. But his good sense prevailed, and he chose not to rob his friend of her romantic moment. He sped up so as to avoid standing out and caught the turbolift before the doors closed.

Once he reached the briefing room, he hit the intercom and presented his badge for the scanner. The doors opened once his clearance was approved.

He entered the spacious briefing room—its size was what forced the corridor space to be so cramped—and found a place to sit down. He took a look around, finding a mix of Jedi, soldiers, droids, and support staff.

He recognized the man near the stage—Colonel Darrok—as well as the man in the red jacket who had summoned him to this briefing. He was certain he’d seen the man before—on Balmorra—but couldn’t recall his name. He recognized none of the Jedi, except perhaps the Barsen’thor. That Nautolan had a reputation for being a good armchair commander, especially when related to Jedi and Force related matters. He was level headed, learned, and wise.

However, Roban had heard dissatisfaction from a few of the higher ups stemming from his strict adherence to Jedi dogma and his willingness to send out even lesser trained Apprentices on big assignments.

“Greetings, Major!” One of the Jedi, a bald Mirialan, approached him with a friendly voice. Roban liked him at once.

“Greetings Master Jedi.”

“Somminick Timms,” he introduced himself, proffering a hand instead of the usual bow. “You have quite the reputation as a soldier. It’s good to meet you at last.”

“The honor is all mine,” he replied. The Jedi smiled again and walked away, clearly not the type to draw out the small talk. Other soldiers saluted at him, and he returned the gesture. He wished he knew someone personally here, so that he wouldn’t have to awkwardly sit alone.

The doors opened to allow several more people entry at least three more times before Elara walked in. She was rather composed after her little date. Her hair back in its tight bun, her uniform was perfectly placed on her body, and her walk was her usual crisp, uptight gait.

“Oh, hello Major!” she smiled politely, and saluted to Roban.

“Good morning, Elara!” He returned the smile. “Finished already?”

“What? Oh!” she flinched. “You saw us?” She ducked with a furious blush. “Fuck.”

“It’s no big deal, Elara.”

“On the contrary, sir. I almost lost track of time. I won’t make that mistake again, Sir.”

“I’m surprised you made that ‘mistake’ at all,” he said. “You’re normally one to schedule your downtime quite thoroughly.”

“My fondness for rules and regulations?”

“Yeah. Another thing I’m not judging you on by the way.”

“I know,” she sighed. “You were one of the few to accept that about me.”

“What I’m getting at is... are you okay? It takes a lot for you to break protocol.”

She looked a bit surprised. “Oh!” She tucked an imaginary stray strand of hair behind her ear self-consciously. “Well... I just had a gut feeling about this mission.”

“Is that soldier part of it?”

“No, definitely not,” she shook her head. “Arry is not a soldier. He’s a civilian ship captain. He deals with military rations and kits. I’ve worked with him several times in the past. He’s... gorgeous. And intelligent.”

“So, the one you’re worried for is yourself?”

“No.” She avoided his gaze for a few minutes, then sighed. “Yes. I’m sorry. I’ve got a bad feeling.”

“We all deal with the constant threat of death here. It’s alright.”

“I... I think I’m in love with him. And he’s in love with me.” She almost sounded surprised.

“Why is that such a shock? You’re one of the most gorgeous women I know.”

She smirked. “Is that a fact? Well, people tend to lose interest quickly because of how pedantic I can be. Almost all of my dates have ended in me waiting for a second that never came.”

“But this one is different.”

“We’ve spoken a lot. Known each other since Taris in fact. But... we’ve only been on two dates.”

Roban contained his amusement. “And the second date was today? Right before the rendezvous?”

“Yes, actually. That was the first time I’ve been with a man in years. I almost wonder if I shouldn’t have made it more... special.”

“In this galaxy, you can’t wait for that special moment,” he told her. “Take what you can, when you can. Heck, I think you demand more, if you can. You want to bang that man till he doesn’t know up from left, you seize the moment.”

“In private, you mean?” she suggested. “And not in badly hidden alcoves like a lot of our siblings-in-arms? Copy that.”

She looked like she wanted to change the subject, so he obliged. “I read your entry for the Suclitar magazine,” he said. “That was quite a well-composed poem you submitted. ‘The Gilded Swans of Contruum’.”

“Really?” she beamed. “Everyone else told me it was stuffy, and focused too much on the technical aspects and lacked any real artistic flair, but—”

“Well, what a bunch of gatekeepers!” he shook his head. “It may not have been a Prothero or a Dian Tyrne, but I could see the hours research you put into that!” He began reciting some of the lines from memory, as well as recalling his impressions when he had read it. With each word, Elara looked more and more grateful. “I learned a lot from reading it,” he concluded. “I read it several times, and even researched the actual Swan family because of the interest you’d sparked in me.”

She let out a delighted laugh. “Thank you, Roban,” she said, toiling to contain her joy. “You have no idea what it means that someone likes my work. I put my heart and soul into it.”

“And I could tell. Which is why I loved it.”

“Thank you.” She became absorbed in her own thoughts for a few moments. “I... I’d written another piece, about the Ulaton Palace, but I’d been too afraid to publish it after my previous criticism.”

“That is a shame,” Roban patted her shoulder. “Publish it. I will read it. And I’m sure others do too.”

“Thank you, sir. I’d be most happy to put it up for this month’s issue. This was just the encouragement I needed. You’re one of the best men I know.”

They waited in silence after that, for Colonel Darrok looked just about ready to begin. Roban felt guilt gnaw at his gut. What would Elara say if she ever found out about his true loyalties, he wondered. What any of his friends would say.

I’ve not become Tavus. I’ve not! And I won’t! Valkorion is a great man. He won’t invade the Republic like the Sith did.

“Welcome, everyone.” General Darrok saluted to the whole room when he was ready, and everyone saluted back. “Things have been getting hard again. We held the advantage for a while, but the Empire regained much of their lost momentum thanks to their theft of sixty percent of Makeb’s resources. Their Dark Council has been replenished. But we’re not out of the game yet. I’ve summoned you all here due to a very promising one-time opportunity to strike at the heart of the Empire.”

“Are we hitting Dromund Kaas again?” A General asked, looking apprehensive. “We lost a lot of people in that attack. Master Satele herself was almost killed.”

“Not Kaas. Korriban.”

“Now I know why I had my bad feeling,” Elara muttered to Roban. “That place feels like a Hutt’s nightmare turned to liquid.”

“That’s almost worse,” someone groaned. “Sure, it doesn’t have the same number of ground forces but it has a lot of Sith. The Dark Council themselves convene there sometimes.”

“Well, I have a trusted source who says that there’s a bit of reorganization going on,” Darrok responded. “In eleven hours, the Korriban defenses will be weakened to shore up forces elsewhere. But this vulnerability will only last a few days at most. The source puts it at twenty-five.”

The Spy took over from there. “We’ve confirmed the locations of all Dark Councilors. Darths Marr, Vowrawn, Mortis, and Ravage are on Ziost. Acina, Zhorrid, Rictus, and Aruk are on Dromund Kaas. Arkous, Nox, and Occlus are joining one of the many offensives along the border in a few days; hopefully our offensive will force them to abandon it. Tiarna Kaimeryn, the Scarlet Queen, is on Kouhaush Muin. So that leaves just Darth Soverus of Military Strategy. He is on Korriban, overseeing a construction project.”

Elara raised a hand. “So why take Korriban? It would make a lot more sense to destroy the academy instead of occupying it. And the Empire will take it back eventually.”

“A good question,” the Barsen’thor smiled. “For starters, it’s not purely Sith Lords and Acolytes in there. There are innocents in the academy whom we would rather not indiscriminately kill.”

“Oh. Of course. I never considered that.”

“In addition, we are deeply interested in their reliquaries and libraries. In the millennium since their exile, the Sith have learned a lot about the Dark Side, and there is still much that we still cannot counteract, for we do not yet understand it. We need to understand more of their techniques, so that we may better defend ourselves. So, one of your objectives will be to...” he shuddered. “—to send us a copy their archives. And destroy it entirely if time permits, which will be a much harder blow to their re-establishment afterwards. As for the relics, some are used as foci for certain rituals. Others amplify their strength. If we can confiscate them, we weaken the Sith.”

“In addition,” Darrok added. “There are certain secondary objectives locked away in their vaults which I have been told to acquire. What these items are is on a need-to-know basis. Commander Jensyn here has been given that particular task.” He pointed at a muscular Jedi with the no-nonsense look of a hardened warrior. “Are you with us so far?” When no one raised any questions, he continued. “You will receive specific instructions after this briefing. For the time being, you are to muster on the Patrician. You may begin briefing your squads once you rendezvous with them there. Dismissed!”

Red jacket waved at Roban, and he waited for the spy to make his way through the milling crowd. Elara squeezed his hand and left with a smile. It was a shame they were no longer on the same squad. Still, it gave them a chance to be actual friends. Something he wished he could have with Jorgan. Unfortunately, the Cathar was on constant assignment these days, and brief mails were all they were able to exchange. He really hoped they could catch up over drinks someday soon.

The spy eventually reached him, and offered an informal salute. “Theron Shan, SIS. We spoke earlier.”

“‘Theron,’ eh? I’m pretty sure that wasn’t the name you gave me the last time we met.” He frowned at a realization. “Shan? Like the Jedi Grandmaster?”

“I get that a lot,” he said ruefully. “Probably related, yeah. This is why I keep requesting a codename.”

“We can discuss genealogy another time,” this was the deep voice of Darrok, who had just reached Roban. “It’s good to have you here, Major. There’re few leaders as good at frontline assault as you are.”

“Asterisk Squad is ready to serve,” Roban said. “Although I wouldn’t have recommended us just yet. We are still just a new unit. Most of my squad are rookies.”

“Yes, it is a shame Havoc Squad was deemed too high profile since Corellia,” Darrok sighed. “All eyes were on your team. On you especially. But we still need you out there today. It was good fortune we were able to get Brazen Squad along too. Captain Dorn is a good soldier, and has apparently set foot on Korriban before.”

“Yes, sir. She said it made her feel... irritable. Like the planet itself brought out the worst in people.”

“It’s just as well we’re not going there for a picnic then. The ‘worst in people’ is actually good for what we intend.”

“And hopefully the Jedi can keep us from doing anything truly demented,” Theron added. “Dark Side is no joke. Not even to us Ungifted.”

“You will lead the main assault,” Darrok informed him. “You are going to lead ten squads. Master Timms has been assigned as your Lieutenant. He has distinguished himself as a battlefield commander since the First Battle of Alderaan.”

“Does this mean one of the squads attached to me is a Jedi squad?”

“Three, actually. Their overall commander is Master Nirol—”

“That’s the Barsen’thor,” Theron added in an undertone.

“—but he will only take over if necessary.”

“Got it.”

“I’ll be your contact on the fleet,” Theron informed him. “I’ll give you advice and tactical info as I get it. You can also rely on me for slicing if you can patch me in.”

“That’s all, Major,” Darrok saluted. “You’re dismissed.”

“See you on the other side.”

*

Chapter Text

Brentaal IV

The next hours were hell.

The Council did not call on Vajra Devarath to help, which was both a blessing and a curse. He was able to take those extra hours to mentally prepare himself. To get into the right headspace to return to the front lines.

Unfortunately, this meant that his ghosts began to return to him, one unsettling whisper at a time.

The first phantom to return was Ranna. Relief at the Emperor’s demise had turned to despair, when he’d first heard the news.

He remembered his Master’s brutal execution.

The callous destruction of Uphrades.

His horror at what Agent Galen had been turned into.

The fighting on Alderaan.

The noble sacrifice of Tala-Reh and Mystic Valen-Da.

The endless carnage on Balmorra, and the frigid skirmishes on Hoth.

The memorial service for all the soldiers who died in the attack on Dromund Kaas so that he could kill the Emperor.

Worst of all, the bloody path he had been forced to walk as the Emperor’s slave. He couldn’t remember the specifics, but he knew he had killed many innocents. He could hear them even now, begging to live.

He remembered his response. Laughter. Laughter such as he had never heard of before, a deep cackle like a thousand glaciers of glass loosed down upon a rough slope of jagged slate.

He remembered staring out from behind his eyes, trapped and frightened, screaming for mercy in in a place from whence even he could hear.

What was worse? To know your hand was stained with the blood of hundreds of innocents, or to have been a prisoner tormented by your own body? He could hear his own evil laughter. Every time he closed his eyes, even to blink. His every quiet moment, waking or sleeping, was threatened with total collapse.

It was all he could do to keep moving forward.

Maybe he should go back to the front lines. It was easier to distract yourself when there were so many people with blasters, bombs and Lightsabers trying to kill you. Many more people crying out in their sleep to keep him company.

He shook his head to escape the self-absorption. He had work to do.

“Master Jedi?”

“I’m sorry, Deneb. I… I have a lot on my mind.”

“Totally understandable, Master Jedi. Our home was destroyed too. We can understand what you must be feeling, the urge to defend your home.”

“Thank you,” Vajra smiled. He was not going to tell the old woman about Uphrades. He wasn’t looking for pity; it would only fuel his self-destructive cycle. At least Raudraksha was safe... even if they no longer considered him one of the people.

“We are only too glad for your continued presence. Some of us thought you might leave too, given...”

He sighed. “That may yet happen even now. I’m sorry.”

She shifted slightly. “Master Jedi... unless my eyes are playing tricks on me, you’re getting even thinner than when we met. You’re not eating much, are you?”

He sighed. Or sleeping. “No.”

“Come to our quarters,” she suggested. “My wife and I ran a Lopsanese Food stall back home. It was a small business, but she’s a good cook! Our son and his friends will be supping with us, and the children love your company! What say you leave your troubles aside for an evening?”

He tried to smile at her. “I appreciate the offer Deneb. But the way things are going, I expect the Council to recall me soon. Maybe some other time.”

She nodded kindly and walked away. He deeply wished he could have taken her up on her offer. But he knew

It was late morning, and the camp was fully awake and active. Children played tag or hide-and-seek. Some of the adults worked on improving the makeshift lodging; adding insulation, sealing cracks, repairing leaks, insulating power cables, working on security systems and similar jobs.

But the noise was a lot more muted subdued than one might have expected.

Various smells filled the air too, the sort you’d expect from a busy, cramped encampment. Oil and grease, wet soil,

“Master Jedi! Master Jedi!”

“Dee Five?” Vajra turned around. “Has something happened?”

“Just a report, sir. The supply trucks arrived a few moments ago. Attendants and refugees are unloading them as we speak.”

“Really?” Vajra felt a relieved smile to blossom on his face. “I hadn’t expected them so soon!”

“Unfortunately, that’s where the good news ends. The Galactic Relief Organization sent word that the sudden assault has increased refugee movement. They have their hands full supplying all the camps. In addition, many ships are being rerouted to shore up defenses on other worlds such as Corellia and Alderaan. There will not be another shipment for at least five weeks. Even with rationing, we won’t last more than six. I believe it might take longer given renewed refugee displacement. So many resources have been reallocated after the assault on Tython.”

It was true. The Empire had been on the back foot for years since so many of its greatest Sith had been slain, some by him personally. This latest attack had shown everyone that it was still capable of devastation. Many people on frontier worlds, a lot of whom would have been resettling evacuated warzones, felt like their homes were no longer safe. Rather than risk life and limb for a home they were not yet attached to, they tried seeking shelter elsewhere until it was safer. And many volunteers and welfare workers had been pulled away, some to aid Tython itself.

His heart went out to them. They would never feel safe until the war was ended.

“Perhaps I need to get back into the thick of things,” he whispered aloud. “Tython would never have fallen if it had been me defending it.”

Tee Seven whistled in fervent agreement. The little Astromech had also been deeply affected by living to see the center of Jedi power fall for a second time in just twenty years.

“Have we received any word on Tython?”

The droid hummed a negative tone.

Vajra embraced the Force, allowing it to fill his Senses. He beheld the world around him through his special gift, finding the many crevices and cracks which represented the push and pull between all the different people, places, and events in the galaxy. He drew the Force deep into his third eye, which increased the insights these fissures offered tenfold by giving them different colors, patterns, shadows, and sounds.

He contemplated the Tapestry for several minutes before he sighed. “I don’t care about orders any more. I’m going back. You with me?”

The droid’s response was an enthusiastic yes.

Vajra felt another regret welling up within him. It would be the first time he had set foot on Tython since Ranna had been murdered.

*

The cells beneath the Jedi Temple, Tython

Matriarch Sumari paced around like a beast in her tiny prison.

These cells rarely held an occupant other than herself for more than a few days. Most were only here for small trespasses. Not like herself. She was here for killing that brat Rana Tao’Ven.

It hadn’t been the most standout moment of her life. After years of flawlessly playing the part of a wise matron, a prancing child had stumbled onto her secret call and ruined everything. She remembered it all just as clearly as the day it had happened.

“So are the Padawans still keeping you up, Kolovish?”

She had groaned loudly. “You have no idea! But all my work is finally paying off. An important but young and gullible Jedi is about to marry a brat from my village¹. Even though he plans to retire, he will wield considerable influence over the younger generation. I will have him wrapped around my little finger in weeks, and then more Jedi will follow!”

“Enough of the empty bragging, Kolovish. I know the one you are talking about, and you’ve already had your chance with him... and you lost it. He was quite suspicious of you for leading your foolish cult to Tython.”

“I will get him this time,” she insisted.

“Pardon me if I don’t hold my breath. After all the years you’ve spent in the heart of their power, what do you have to show for it? A few irrelevant cultists at your beck and call, a few Padawans who meet you once in their entire lives?”

“I’ve given you precious intel before!”

“Hunter gave us that intel long before you did.”

“Enough. Kolovish’s family has been with us for generations. Everyone makes bad investments. But now, with victory and the galaxy itself within our grasp, there is no need to fight for scraps.”

“Indeed!” she had declared, her laugh high and triumphant. “The destruction of the Jedi and Sith, Republic and Empire is nigh! The old order is finally about to be wiped clean! I can finally leave these fools in this primitive backwater of village behind! I—”

That was when she had heard the cry.

She had turned around to find Ranna standing behind her. The young woman was on the floor, her trembling knees having evidently given out at some point.

Angered, Kolovish had disconnected from the meeting. “You evil little child!” she had yelled, spittle flying out of her mouth. “How long have you been standing there, listening in on my private affairs.”

Ranna had not answered. Just cried. Kolovish had raised the ungrateful child, but she was staring at her as though she had never met her before. The arrogance!

“I asked you a question,” Kolovish whispered, kneeling down beside her. “What have you heard?”

Ranna shook her head fiercely. Her expression started morphing from horror to indignation. “I heard you call your people fools, and our village a backwater! You’re the one who led us here! Into all this danger! And all this time you were just using us—whurhg!”

Kolovish had stabbed the belligerent little woman in the stomach with her carving knife.

“You—you stabbed me!” Ranna choked in utter disbelief, her hands covering her wound.

“Congratulations girl,” Kolovish smiled maliciously. “For the first time—” she stabbed her again, and this time she got a muffled scream in response “—in your pathetic life—” another stab “—you have put two and two—” stab “—together!” She stabbed the woman one last time.

Ranna’s face was a mask of agony. Blood spluttered out of her mouth and wounds. She sank back into the ground in a fetal position, a pool of her blood forming beneath her. It was then that Kolovish realized that she was covered in the girl’s blood. It had even spurted into her mouth!

She spat out a mouthful of the girl’s blood in revulsion. “Sirsha’s spite! Is killing always this messy?”

“Grand Matriarch, what is going on—” another Twi’lek chose that moment to turn up. Looking at the scene in front of him, he screamed loudly, an echoing cry that tore through the forest several times. Startled birds and animals had taken flight at the alarm.

Other Twi’leks had come rushing to see what had happened, banishing Kolovish’s vain hopes of covering up one murder with another. She had been forced to destroy all her equipment and wait for her own arrest. Worst of all, her salvation from her people’s fury had come from the filthy Jedi of all people!

They had led her away, to stand trial, but Kolovish had regained her poise. “Since the Republic and Jedi abandoned me and my people, I contest your right to try me.”

That attempt at bravado had almost backfired, with the mob of angry Twi’leks looking ready to lynch her, and she had been forced to accept the Jedi protection... and their judgement.

At first she had tried to feign nonchalance. She had sat in the tiny cell all day, cross-legged and straight-backed, pretending to meditate.

All her attempts at a legal defense were easily shattered.

“She startled me!” Kolovish had tried. “It’s dangerous living alone on my abode!”

“And that was why you stabbed Ranna six times?” her accuser had demanded. The rest of the court had visibly rolled their eyes, and Kolovish glared, her mask slipping for a second.

“I didn’t realize it was her until then! Adrenaline and fear had taken hold long before my senses realized who it was... poor, poor child.”

“I present evidence marked 2-besh to the tribunal,” the prosecutor had gone on, ignoring her completely. He had pulled out Kolovish’s destroyed communicator, which had been not been nearly as inoperable as she’d believed. Worse, it seemed to have recorded that day, and every day before!

And it had everything! Right from the start! She felt quite betrayed, knowing she’d been so closely watched.

Those recordings alone had gotten her convicted not only of murder, but grand conspiracy as well.

She had been trapped in this cell ever since. What surprised her somewhat was how no one had come to question her about that call. To ask her who she had been talking to, or what their goal had been.

She snorted. Such idiots these Jedi were! They were handed a great prize all tied up, and they squandered it! The Cabal had won! Corellia had been their greatest victory, and soon they would rule the galaxy! They would wipe it clean of Jedi and Sith filth. And when they came to set her free, she would in the Council chambers and piss on the Grand Master’s seat. Heck, she would piss on the woman herself if she was still alive at the time!

Any day now, she had thought to herself. Any day.

That thought had allowed her to remain calm the first week, but then restlessness had set in. There was absolutely nothing to do in her accursed cage, and months and months of waiting had worn her out. The holo in front of her was no help either, showing an endless string of cheesy comedies she didn’t have the stomach for. And of course, she didn’t have anyone to talk to; the guards were mostly droids. The silent kind.

Several times she had sought to make a plea bargain, willing to tell the Council everything in exchange for a bigger cell. But no! The fools did not want to discuss the greatest threat to their existence of all time! They deserved the destruction that was to come, they were too foolish to survive!

Such had been the thoughts playing out in repeat since her incarceration. They were a tired old routine now, free of the enthusiasm of her early days. She nibbled the pungent rootleaf stew she had been served day in and day out, feeling suddenly defeated and broken. Was this going to be where she died?

It was sometime during her contemplation that the door opened. A human woman walked in, a wide, foxy grin on her face. She had a blaster in her hand, and fired a single shot at each security droid, downing them before they could even move. Kolovish scrambled to her feet, knocking the bowl to the ground.

“At last!” she screamed. “At last!”

“Hello, ex-Matriarch Kolovish,” the woman’s smile deepened for a second. “This has been a long time coming.”

“Yes,” Kolovish agreed fervently. “Yes! I was starting to think the Star Cabal had forgotten about me! That you would never come!”

The woman tsk-tsked. “Oh, you poor poor thing! All abandoned in this—” she sniffed the air and grimaced. “—perfumed prison!”

Kolovish didn’t care about the woman’s lip at that moment, though she knew she would have, once.

“What took them so long? Did something go wrong at Corellia? We were supposed to take over the galaxy ages ago!”

The woman looked at her, smile turning a little dim. “Oh. Something going wrong... You could say that I suppose.”

“Well. No matter!” Kolovish beamed. “You’re here now! You can set me free, and you can dance with me on the ashes of the Jedi Temple!”

“A most tempting proposition,” the woman smiled. “But I’m afraid there isn’t much time for that.”

“What? Oh, so the Cabal hasn’t seized total control yet?”

“No.”

She felt her chest sag a little but rallied. “I see. Well, the takeover of two galactic governments and the destruction of two age old institutions is bound to be harder than we’d first expected, of course! Get me out of here, and I can help them start over. My connections and wealth would go a long way towards—”

“I’m afraid you’ve mistaken me for someone else, ex-Matriarch!” The woman’s smile turned a tad menacing.

“What?”

“I am not with the Star Cabal. No one is with the Star Cabal any more. In fact, your secret stashes of wealth have been seized, and all your connections have either been killed or incarcerated. Those that weren’t directly in the Cabal, like Chancelor Saresh, have cut you loose.”

“What do you—” Kolovish trailed off as the woman pulled a datacron out of her bag. It wasn’t just any old datacron, for she recognized those markings. “The Black Codex!” But that was never, ever supposed to leave the vaults!

“Yes. And I—” the woman smiled dramatically. “—am Cipher Nine.”

Kolovish’s mouth dropped in horror. No. No, no! No!

“Something did indeed ‘go wrong’ on Corellia. I got to the Prince. And Hunter. And everyone at your HQ. I seized myself a pretty little prize—” she held up the Codex again “—and exposed your entire, pathetic, grubby, greasy little organization to the entire galaxy. Even the other side, because there were some of you we couldn’t reach. They were dead in a matter of days. The Codex had listed all of their emergency escape resources after all. And enough proof to put you out of business.”

“No! It can’t be possible!” But even as she voiced her denial, Kolovish realized that it answered her months-long mystery of why the Jedi had not been eager to hear about the Cabal. They had already known, the bastards!

“You are the only one remaining. This pathetic cage was all that kept you alive. Ironic, isn’t it? The people you hate most, are also the ones who allowed you to outlive every single one of your cohorts by almost a year. It was hard for me to get here. Especially since I’m retired now. But I just had to return one last time to kill the last of you pathetic maggots.” She put the Codex in her bag. Her next motion was blindingly fast; one moment her hand was at her hip, the next it was held out at an angle to her left, parallel to the ground. Kolovish felt a stinging pain on her neck, and raised her fingers to find several small blades, no larger than the last joint of her little finger, sticking out of it. They were barely big enough to have penetrated her flesh, to draw much blood. But the agonizing pain!

She started to scream, and barely heard what the Imperial spy had to say.

“A particularly nasty venom. The ‘Long Night’ it’s called. A painful death over the next few days. Even if you survive, it will leave your nerves fried, and your mind broken. If you want to blame someone, make it Hunter. He’s the one who got your whole organization on my shit list by abusing my brainwashing. I’m terribly sorry I can’t stay and watch, but my window is about to close. Ta, now!”

Kolovish’s screams got so loud she imagined she could feel her vocal cords start to snap from the strain. She could not feel it when her nails tore at her own face.

*

Chapter Text

Jedi Temple Compound, Tython

The tide quickened when the next reinforcement arrived. A single Jedi with an unrivalled skill that was light years ahead of anything else on the battlefield. It was like nothing Private Jorr-dun had ever seen.

He had arrived out of nowhere, falling from the sky without even a parachute or jetpack. The Force must have cushioned his landing, but it did a number on his LZ, kicking up a lot of dust and probably leaving a deep crater.

The Jedi shot out of the dust cloud from his landing like a living bolt of lightning, cutting his way up and down the line. He held not one, not two, but four lightsabers—for he had four hands—but when they moved, they seemed a number beyond counting. Dozens. Hundreds. He dodged most of the shots aimed in his general direction, and his lightsabers deflected the rest, often using the same movement to cut down several enemies at once. His movements were so smooth and practiced, like he had fought this battle thousands of times before. Every time a Sith ran forward to meet him, they fell to a single attack, their heads often landing some distance from their bodies. In minutes, the line of Imperial soldiers was starting to panic. The line shivered and broke.

“Forward!” General Rellick hollered, and Jorr-dun was shaken out of his stupefied daze. Looking around, he saw many of his brothers and sisters blinking and shaking their heads. “Follow that Jedi, soldiers! For the Republic!”

There was a roar of “For the Republic!” from the lines, and everyone broke cover to charge the collapsing enemy line.

*

Vajra did not like flying, and he did not like skydiving. Far less in an active warzone. But sometimes the situation called for it. He had dallied too long in his judgement, and could afford to waste no more time.

He had leapt out of the ship hundreds of feet in the air, trusting his Droid pilots to land it safely. A few stray missiles and bolts came his way, which he easily evaded. With fifty feet left, he enveloped himself in a cocoon of the Force. He also used it to slow his momentum. As he was just about to land, he unraveled his cocoon, turning it into a cannonball instead. The impact was like a meteorite, striking deep into the ground and kicking up enough dust to cover him from the eyes of his enemies momentarily.

He steadied himself for a moment, expanding his Senses outwards, getting a feel of where he was. Where the enemy was. And which way he had to push. Once he was certain, he shot out from his crater.

He pictured the great deity of his people—Rudra, their namesake—trying to channel his legendary fury in his assault, descending upon the Imperial soldiers with the implacable cold fury of a mountain storm. To stand against Rudra was to face the gales on the treacherous alpine slopes, to fight him was to be battered down by a hailstorm. Those who had not already fled found themselves completely at the mercy of a force of nature that could reshape mountains and bury valleys.

He chose Form IV: Ataru, for today’s battle. It had a poor reputation for deflecting blaster fire and fighting multiple enemies, but it was undoubtedly the most mobile of the seven forms. As for its weaknesses, he didn’t care if he took a few hits, if only he could reach the Temple as quickly as possible.

He did not even care if the battle was ultimately lost. A Republic victory was not his objective today. All he wanted was to find his best friend.

Jasme was a light in the darkness, a being of pure brilliance whose very presence made everyone grateful to be alive. She had helped him through his darkest times, and he would face the Emperor again to protect her.

Soldiers fired at him, only to find that he had reappeared in another location, as he flipped, dodged, and danced from one spot to another, never staying in a location for more than a heartbeat. He cut down a dozen or more soldiers with a single move since he was wielding all four lightsabers for once.

And the few times a Sith jumped in front of him to halt his charge, they found their heads on the ground before their senses could even comprehend what had happened.

Nothing was held back today. And the rewards were ample; within a minute of landing, he had crossed the bridge into the compound proper. Artillery rained down, attempting to halt his progress by destroying this bridge, but it wasn’t an obstacle for even non-sensitives. He crossed on over like it was a sprint in the park before the munitions destroyed it.

A decorated Sith pureblood stepped forward with a dozen soldiers in the infamous Imperial Guard armor, and the beleaguered Imps cheered. “I am Darth Occlus of the Dark Council!” he called. “Do you like what we’ve done with—”

“Yeah, yeah!” Vajra snarled as his lightsaber easily penetrated his defenses. “I don’t have time for you!”

Darth Occlus’ head fell some distance away, a whoosh as air came spilling out from his exposed wind pipe. The Guards fell upon him, with screams of “Revenge for our Master!” “Like what we’ve done here, Jedi?” and “You are nothing!”

Most of them used force pikes and techblades, though two used pink bladed lightsabers. The Guard were legendary, their strongest members were supposed to be on par with a Dark Councillor. What was more, they had trained as a unit, and their teamwork made them better than the sum of their individual members.

Vajra felt certain that he was one of maybe seven Jedi who could go toe-to-toe with this group and win unscathed. On another day, he might have dragged this out, to get the most out of the fight. Today, he chose to go all out from the start.

He inhaled, and Drew in the Force to reinforce his abilities. His reflexes, his speed, his strength, his defense; he raised them to the highest possible extent. He was not the best at lifting rocks twenty feet away, but few could rival him when it came to self-strengthening with the Force.

He also observed the Tapestry again, the interconnectedness of the galaxy, and from the various paths open to him, he chose the one designed to bring him victory fastest.

There was a particularly deep Shatterpoint centered around one of the guards with the lightsabers, a tall Guard who stood in the heart of the formation, neither too far forward nor too far back; he attacked that one first, flipping over the frontrunner before he could react.

Vajra struck his target right in the chest—they weren’t even able to lift their sabers. A gurgled gasp, and they went down. The others looked stunned. Something about their demeanor changed, but they rallied and converged on him. He let loose all four sabers on the guard he had just leapt over, leaving four deep gashes across his face, neck, chest, and stomach. He immediately turned around again to intercept the remaining guards. He weaved his way around their clever attempts at hemming him in, but they were good enough that he wasn’t able to land a telling blow right off the bat. He was forced to go on the defensive, but a moment came when four were perfectly lined up, with a single deep canyon marking the brief weakness. He blitzed forward, his lightsabers slicing through one guard after another.

This feat left the remaining Guards momentarily unnerved, and Vajra capitalized. He fell upon one red robed elite after another, leaving only death in his wake. The last five looked like they might turn tail and flee, so Vajra put on the act of chasing them. Two of them briefly found their nerve and died as warriors, but the others fled screaming.

The Imperial cheering guttered out when they saw the fabled Imperial Guard lose their nerve.

“Do you hear me, Imperial scum!!?” Vajra demanded, screeching at the top of his lungs. “I do not have time for you! So just die already!”

Behind him, he heard soldiers cry ‘For the Republic!’ the ground thundering under thousands of stampeding feet.

Blaster fire spewed forth from the Republic lines, catching the Imperials who had seem to have forgotten about them completely off-guard. They fell screaming, swallowed by explosions, or hit by a swarm of deadly blaster bolts.

The Imperial lines shattered then. They turned tail in the hundreds, trying vainly—and ironically—to find refuge in the Temple. The Guards who had fled earlier were among that number. The action earned a deep growl from the storm within Vajra. He itched to release it on them.

But that might cause more harm than good. For the Raudra had a powerful connection to the Force, but it could only be accessed in full if they chose the Dark. And he did not want to risk Jasme—or the others trapped inside—by bringing the Temple down on their heads.

Even so. There would be hell to pay. The days when the Empire could just waltz in and lay waste to the center of Jedi power without consequence, had died when he had slain the Sith Emperor.

Several Sith emerged from the Temple, clearing their way with blasts of vicious blue Force Lightning. Vajra counted sixteen. They were led by a purple-skinned Chagrian in black and violet robes who ruthlessly killed the Guard that had run.

Vajra did not give them the dignity of forming up. He attacked them head on.

The first Sith—another Pureblood—only had time for an embarrassing squeak before his lightsaber ended her life.  Two more went down without a whimper. The fourth, a human male, fell screaming as he mistimed his block and lost both his hands as a result.

The remaining twelve lost no more time. Spitting curses and vitriol, they all attacked. Unlike the Imperial Guard whom he had just handily beaten, they were piss-poor teammates. They had no idea how to fight someone without getting in each other’s way; and so, far from becoming any real threat, they became a clumsy, tripping mess.

Four more bodies fell, missing heads and limbs, and a fifth fell stunned, having lost both his arms above the elbow. Each strike only fed the storm within Vajra. Two of the Sith loosed lightning at him, but cooked their own fellows instead, who fell over cursing some more.

The Chagrian cried “SUFFER!” and attacked him from his right flank as a Twi’lek attacked him from his left. Vajra slapped his clumsy blade aside and tossed him onto the Twi’lek. The Sith who were downed by their own comrades’ lightning stood and attacked him. The Chagrian and Twi’lek joined in, and Vajra found himself under the combined assault of seven full Sith Lords.

It was breathtakingly... underwhelming. One lightsaber was all he needed to keep the seven at bay. Whether they came from on high, or from his flanks, or his rear, he turned aside their blades with a single one as easily as if he were fighting younglings.

And as they fought, they showered insults at him. “Weakling!” “Pathetic!” “Fool!” “You are nothing!” “Die!”

He tired of this game quickly. Shouting “You’re all weak! Just like your Emperor! Just get the frick out of my way!” he lashed out with all four sabers, and seven pairs of hands dropped on the floor around him.

Another swipe, and seven bodies fell dead beside their arms.

He straightened and turned to the Temple, ominously eyeing the soldiers still trying to squirm inside.

One soldier, an officer, shouldered his way out. Vajra laughed. Brave man.

He reevaluated that assessment when he saw the children in his arms.

“Hold it right there, Jedi!” the Officer sneered as sweat poured down his face. “Take one more step and these filthy orphans die—” he trailed off at the look Vajra threw his way. On instinct, he released the children and flailed backwards, tripping on the pockmarked staircase. Vajra closed the distance in a single breath, then punched the officer. Teeth flew out of the man’s mouth, and tears from his eyes. He begged for mercy, and Vajra reluctantly accepted. He did not want to leave a single person alive...

But again, time was precious, and he had been forced to waste some on these two elite groups.

“Surrender,” he called to the Imps. “And you live. Fight on, and you will all die.”

The soldiers began fighting to surrender first.

As he walked past the undamaged drinking fountains, he realized he’d not had a sip of water in almost a day. As he took a sip, caught his reflection in one of the few intact mirrored plates. It made him recoil, but only slightly. He looked like the avatar of vengeance again, his three eyes glaring so hard they even gave him chills. It was the perfect face for a warrior or avenger. Less perfect for a Jedi.

Putting his mask back on, he indicated an officer—a different one, not the scum who had tried to threaten children—and asked her “I heard your little picnic here was led by Darth Nox. Where is he?”

“G-g-g-g-g-gone, Sir. He l-l-l-left an hour ago.”

What?

“Who was left in command here?”

“Darth Occlus,” she stammered. “And Lord Goh. You k-k-k-killed them both.” She pointed to one of the dead Sith.

Dammit. Dead Sith tell no tales.

“Where are the prisoners?” he asked. “The survivors?”

“W-w-w-w-we l-l-locked them... in... the Apprentice Quarters,” she said. “Mostly Apprentices and non-combatant staff.” She saw his expression and hurried to add. “There were a few pockets of resistance in the East wing! A dozen Jedi, some guards. The librarians, teachers, and archivists are with them.”

*

Their entire group of eighty-three archive staff, thirty guards, and fourteen Jedi had locked themselves in one of the rooms in the East Wing. All but five of the Jedi and two of the guards were various degrees of injured, and forced to lie down and wait for rescue. The few healthy combatants stood guard at the door, trying their best to ignore the weeping, the pained moans, and the smells.

Jasme Shan squeezed her borrowed lightsaber hilt in her left hand, feeling every carving on the long tube. She’d left her own Lightsaber—the one gifted to her by Tiarna Kairegane Rooks—back in her room. Instead, this one belonged to a Jedi named Sam Shryne, as he was too wounded to hold on to it any longer.

It comforted her to have the weapon in hand, even though she hadn’t practiced much in over ten years. In fact, she could barely use the Force. Small rocks were all she could move. Her training had ended before the Padawan stage, and she had opted to stay on with the Jedi, working with the archivists and archaeologists.

She had been combat trained by military archaeologists, and was much more proficient with blasters than a lightsaber. She had even been in her fair share of skirmishes with thieves, bandits, pillagers, and black-market thugs.

Nothing like this though. But she had to stay strong. Everyone’s morale was hanging on by a thread. It was hard though; they had been hemmed into this room over a few hours ago, and several of the more excitable scholars had lost their lunches. With all ventilation cut off, the place was starting to really smell. There were also several among them who were injured. Not fatally, if they could receive medical attention in the next few hours, but without something to dull their pain they began moaning and screaming.

Jasme did what she could, comforting the frightened and soothing the injured, but she too was not in a good way. She was terrified. For the first time in years, it hit her that she might die; and she had so much she still wanted to do! So many cultures she still wished to study, so many lost languages she wanted to take a crack at, so many stories she wished to uncover! She really wanted to have her whole family spend just a few days as a family, doing normal family things like chatting and barbecues. And she wanted to finally publish that last damned thesis that had been on the backburner for like a thousand years.

She also thought about that adventure she had always wanted with Vajra and Kira.

So many wishes, and she was almost out of time. She really wanted to find a corner and cry for a moment.

“Finnar,” she said instead, approaching a wounded guard. “How is that wound?”

“Stopped bleeding,” he said with a brave attempt at calm. “Hurts like mad, but Sera put the bandages just right.”

“Let me see.” She examined his chest, which had taken several blaster bolts. “Thank the Force your armor absorbed so much of it!”

“Yeah. Been worse. There was a time when Malgus himself dropped a ship on me. This is nothing.”

She chuckled politely. Finnar loved telling the story of his encounter with Malgus on Coruscant. He had been a Temple guard his entire life in honor of his sister who joined the Order.

“You’re very optimistic Jasmi,” Selma Hines observed. The old librarian always twisted the last syllable of her name as a small show of affection.

“Yes, well the Empire wasn’t what it once was,” she answered. “They held Coruscant for days, but they can’t hold Tython. They’ll be crushed if they try, and we’ll be rescued soon.” She was pleased with how confident she forced herself to sound.

“You don’t have to push yourself, Jasmi,” the grandmotherly woman sighed. “It’s not your burden to keep morale up.”

“Indeed,” Finnar agreed. “You’re wounded too,” he meant the bleeding left shoulder, and the light blaster burn on her thigh. “You can rest. We’re not kids, here. In fact, I think you’re the youngest in this t... I mean prison.”

She knew he was right, but refused to let the smile slip from her face. She might never get it back if she did. Instead, she asked “Does it feel like the fighting has gotten less? I’m not hearing the artillery as much. Screams have stopped too. You think the reinforcements are here?”

“... maybe.”

“I think you’re right!” Finnar nodded.

They strained their ears for the next few minutes, listening intently. Eventually, they heard a distant whirring of the generators being restarted. Moments later, power returned to the room. The air-conditioning turned back on at full force, which did something to the musty air at once.

It was several minutes later when the room’s emergency intercom started to ring.

Jedi Knight Kikyo was the one to answer. “Who is it?”

A familiar voice crackled over the intercom. “Vajra here, Vajra Devarath. We’ve retaken the temple.”

Jasme cheered. “Vajra? Is that really you?”

“Jasme?” he sounded relieved. “I’m so glad to hear your voice!”

“It’s him,” she confirmed to the guards. “I’d know his voice anywhere.”

“Alright,” Kikyo nodded. She hit the button to unlock the door and it swooshed open. Vajra was standing there, with a team of army medics behind him. They surged into the rooms at once, seeking out the most grievously injured and beginning medical scans.

Jasme—and everyone else too, actually—stayed out of the way as they carefully placed them on gurneys and wheeled them out so that they didn’t get in the way of the medical staff.

But once they were gone, she darted out the door and threw her arms around Vajra. “Thank you thank you thank you!” she said, placing several big kisses on his gaunt cheek (He’d taken off his mask).

Laughing heartily, he returned her embrace tightly. “Jasme! I’m so glad you’re okay!” He gave another look at her and added. “Not completely, I see. Come on. I’m taking you to get those injuries looked at.”

“Sure thing, hero.”

People were starting to stream outside the room and crowd around him, showering him with praise and thanks.

“You probably defeated the occupying forces all by your lonesome, didncha?” one of the guards asked.

Vajra gave her a smile which Jasme could tell was laced with discomfort. And a hint of contained pain. “How else would I have done it?” he joked.

Jasme felt a tinge of worry.

*

Vaiken Space Dock

Darth Nox found himself lifted off his feet by his throat the moment he emerged from his shuttle. Before he could move a muscle, his assailant slammed him against the floor and put a foot on his throat.

Dark though the landing bay was, even a befuddled mind could guess who the tall, horned woman was.

Kairegane Rooks had titles as impressive as her looks and physique: Tiarna of Kouhaush Muin, Darth Kaimeryn, Ebon Prince, Emperor’s Wrath, and Scarlet Queen. But recently, he had been given permission to call her—

“Lady Kai—”

“How dare you!?” she snarled softly, kneeling so she could place her hand on his chest. He knew she was capable of caving in his chest with just her hand, so he felt quite frightened.

“Please! Please don’t kill me!”

“Why not?” she growled. “You dared to lead an attack on Tython? Have you forgotten about our pact? How are we supposed to usher in peace, when you’re leading raids on the enemy sanctuary!? You just set us back several years! What’s your next trick? Coruscant? Are you going to finish what that asp Angral started?”

“Please, take it easy!” Hekaten whimpered. “We needed to know—”

“To know what?”

“What the Jedi have hidden in their Archives. Recent Intel suggested they’d found—”

“Their Archives.” Lady Kai’s voice had gone soft, but Hekaten suddenly felt like he was inches from death. “You attacked the Temple, and went into their Archives.”

Hekaten was left unable to speak. He didn’t know what was going through her head.

Thankfully, he didn’t need to worry long. She got a message—an urgent one, going by how quickly she looked at it. She glanced over it quickly, and something about her changed on a barely perceptible level. She backed off, and Hekaten stood.

With anyone else, he’d have followed up by returning the favor. But with the Tiarna, he was too frightened to. This woman could and would kill him, if he attacked her.

If only he knew what he’d done. Was she really this upset because he’d seemingly broken their pact?

“I don’t know what’s gotten into you lately,” the Tiarna told him. “You’ve changed, these past two months, ever since you escaped that assassination attempt—”

Hekaten felt a tremor course through his body as he felt the anger and despair of that attempt. Thankfully, his ‘ally’ seemed too preoccupied to notice.

“—but you’ve been a lot more committed to the Empire. And to the war. What happened, Nox? Did the Republic get to you? If you want to forget about our agreement, say so now. I’ll walk away. But if you go behind my back again…”

The doors parted, and in ran Lana Beniko. She looked frightened and shocked, so much so that she didn’t notice the Tiarna until she almost ran into her.

“Dark Lords!”

“Who’s this then?”

“This is Lana Beniko, Darth Arkous’ chief advisor. What’s happened?”

“We’ve just got word from Korriban,” she explained. “The Republic… they’ve attacked. And they won. They slew most of our defenders, including Darth Soverus. They have control of the Academy.”

“Korriban?” Hekaten barked. “Why Korriban? We still hold Tython!”

The Tiarna snorted, her expression halfway between amusement and anger. “They must have great faith in their champion. Are we sending reinforcements to Korriban?”

“That’s right, Your Highness—”

“‘Tiarna’ will do. I’ll lead the relief myself. Nox, you coming with me?”

“Of course,” Hekaten said. He felt relieved at the chance to mend fences. Truth be told, he liked having the Muinar’s support. And her friendship. He’d never intended to jeopardize that relationship. If he could make things right again, he would be eternally grateful. “Are you calling in your Legion?”

“Only what I have with me. But three hundred Legionnaires should be more than sufficient for the task.”

“The Legion,” Lana whispered, looking awed. She shook herself free of her reverie. “If you’ll permit me, I’ll offer support from orbit, as I did for Tython.”

“I’ll take it.” Once they were out of the human’s earshot, Lady Kai told Hekaten, “You will tell me everything about this initiative. Who came up with it, what its aims were, and who is that woman?”

“That woman is the least of those questions, right? She’s just Arkous’ advisor. He has a lot of respect for her, but she’s barely even a Lord.”

“Well… I suppose so.”

“I believe she wasn’t fully on board with this plan. She went along only because her superior was committed.” Hekaten didn’t know why he was defending Lana.

“Understood. But you misunderstand me. Like you said, attacking Korriban when we still have Tython defeats common sense. Something else is going on, and we need to figure out what.”

*

Chapter Text

Korriban

Dust and smoke filled the air. The Sith Academy of Korriban, which had been an imposing structure for a long, long time, was in ruins.

Hekaten found Tiarna Kaimeryn hunched over a dead Jedi. He was wary of approaching her, and they’d almost had a falling out until one message had changed her mood. Luckily for Hekaten, her mood had greatly improved when she’d found a friend of hers joining the relief force. They were together right now, with the human called Mirabelle Travvor bringing a glass of water for her.

“Friend of yours?” he asked her.

“An acquaintance,” she answered. “I met him on Belsavis. He and I were both hunting Baras’ agents, so we formed a truce. What was his name again? Tummy? Tumnis? Tibbs? I’ve been trying to remember.”

“Holo footage pegs him as the one that cut Darth Soverus’ gut,” Mirabelle said. Hekaten looked at the bald Mirialan. He wasn’t very special to look at. “Although he was critically wounded too in the effort. The one I killed was the executioner. Do you recognize the other Jedi?”

Kai looked around. “No. Although that one is not a Jedi,” she added, indicating a crumpled, fried shell that had once been a person. You could just make out the standard Republic-issue armor fused to the melted sentient.

“A lot of dead,” Hekaten commented. “Their losses were almost as great as ours taking Tython. And just like us, they took some strong assets with them.”

Lady Kai straightened. “Tell me.”

Hekaten ran over a long list of talented Sith but several names caught Kai’s ear. “... Overseer Ragate, Lords Solence, Cestus, Renning, and Inquisitor Arzanon, Lord Sacri—”

Lady Kai barked with laughter. “You call those strong assets? I do feel a little bad about Ragate and Solence, but Arzanon? He was a psychopath! He tricked acolytes into killing fellow acolytes on some vague assurance that they were traitors. I was going to kill him myself, someday. And Renning...”

Hekaten crinkled his nose. “I know, he was an egomaniac. And bathed so rarely you could smell him in a room full of corpses. But he was good at his research. Good enough that his reputation survived three separate instances of sabotage by his apprentice.”

“Maldara,” Lady Kai said, tapping her nose.

“No, Malora,” Mirabelle corrected.

“That’s her,” Kairegane nodded. She drained the glass and placed it carefully on Soverus’ table. “I take it she’s dead too?”

Hekaten shook her head. “No. She was unarmed and exhausted from days of doing her own research when the Republic troops landed, so she wasn’t able to put up a fight. That spared her life. She tried to pretend she fought valiantly, but a probe had a recording. Wanna see?”

He knew what Lady Kai’s answer would have been, so he didn’t wait to hear it. He raised his palm and pressed a button. A tiny holo of Malora materialized.

*

“Stay away you prehistoric boors,” the little figure said, her voice equal parts strained and contemptuous. “I am studying here! A breakthrough so big it could potentially change the way we... what was that?” her eyebrows contracted with confusion. “Oh, so you’re Republic troops? Good to know, but it changes nothing! I am a devoted researcher, and you’re a pack of akk-dogs who could ruin weeks—no months!—of careful studies with all this traipsing about! What? An invasion? How cute! Go and invade then, just leave me be!”

Others appeared in the feed, wearing Republic military armor and uniforms, but they were still too faint to hear.

She sighed. “I realize you soldiers are not the brightest lights in the galaxy, but for fuck’s sake, you ought to know not to disturb your betters! Shoo! Don’t you have some slaves to save or something? Throw your lives against the walls of the Academy if it’ll make you happy! But leave me to my work!”

“Why haven’t you killed her yet?”

“She’s unarmed, Captain.”

“She’s Sith. She’s always armed.”

“What research is she doing anyway?”

“I was just looking—” “HEY!” “—and it seems to be ways to influence... something called ‘midichlorians’... to reverse the ageing effects of Dark Side overuse. Or ageing in general. With the Force.” The uninvited skimmer, a woman, had a distinctly Kaasi accent. A traitor perhaps? Or a defector?

“A rather harmless pursuit.”

“Harmless?” Someone demanded. “This is groundbreaking! Why is it Imps always get the good stuff? Power, style, and now eternal youth? I would love that! Then I won’t be an old fossil no matter when this war ends!”

The soldiers laughed as Malora sputtered. “Are you really so foolish? So idiotic? So short-sighted? My research is far more important than such a minor cosmetic—”

“Ah, shut it, labworm! Can’t you see we’re debating whether or not to kill you?”

“I say let her go,” said one of the troopers, the one who had been skimming through Malora’s research.  “This research isn’t even unethical. She lives.”

“I’m in charge here, Captain... and I agree with you. Let her live. But take a copy of her notes and methods anyway. Whether they use it or not, it might be of interest to the Jedi.”

“Can we destroy this research afterwards? Like I said, the Imp scum don’t deserve this kind of prize!”

Malora started shrieking incoherently.

“Corporal...” the Kaasi Republic soldier sighed. “It’s just harmless research.”

“But Lieutenant!”

“How dare you even think to burn advancements in learning!” Malora finally found her tongue. “Brutes! Savages! Vandals! All of you—”

The Kaasi soldier hit her with a stun bolt, knocking her out. “Should have just done that at the start. I hate Sith.”

The others chuckled.

“Who knows what else research is on these computers? See if we can send it back to Coruscant. If we can’t, take all the copies you can. Then burn the lab.”

“I’ll toss this one outside so she doesn’t die of fumes,” the Corporal said. He pulled Malora out by a leg, and the woman was dragged along with her face down.

*

When the feed dissolved, both Kairegane and Mirabelle stopped trying to conceal their laughter. “That exchange took what, ten minutes? Good old Malora! Pinned a whole squad down, unarmed, for a good amount of time! Next time someone invades we need her on the very front!”

“I thought you’d like that,” Hekaten chuckled. “She’s unafraid of death. Loves her research above everything else. And actually good at it. I was thinking of raising her to Lord, and giving her to Acina.”

“Ha! A fitting reward. Finally, she will have a Master who bathes at all.”

“Renning, for all his flaws, was a good scientist. If his apprentice is as good as she is dedicated, she should be far better.”

“How can one be a good scientist if they’re so bloody biased? He was the sort who needed his bias proven right!”

“Because the things he inadvertently discovered were worth it. He was at least honest enough to note down the results even when they didn’t suit him.”

“That makes him ‘useful,’ not ‘good.’ Certainly not a scientist.”

“Sure. My mistake.”

Tiarna Kairegane stood with a groan, then stretched so hard it looked like she was trying to grow. “How long until you find out what the enemy might have stolen?”

Hekaten sighed disgustedly. “Months. So much has been broken, and so much stolen by our own people. The reliquaries in particular. Darth Arkous offered to take over the efforts, seeing as it was his expedition’s fault that the planet was exposed in the first place. But I won’t allow anyone to encroach on my Sphere.”

“And here I thought you liked him.”

“I respect him. But he’s still Sith. And so am I. How do you think it would appear to everyone if I pass the buck on something like this? I’ve already lost precious credibility. I can’t afford to appear weak or the sharks will start to circle. Everything I’ve worked for will come to naught.”

“Luckily you have me.”

Hekaten smiled sardonically. “Yes. Lucky.”

He clearly hadn’t forgotten her rage, still. Truth be told, Kairegane was still mad at him. Not for attacking the Temple, but because he might have killed a certain Archivist while he was at it. She fought the urge to look at her datapad again, to look at her ‘I’m okay’ message. Considerate of her to have sent her one, under the circumstances.

“I think we should get going,” Mira suggested. “There’s nothing more for us to personally do.”

“What about your dead little friend?” Hekaten gestured at the Jedi whose name Lady Kai couldn’t even remember.

“Shall I kill him again?” When neither Sith laughed, she sighed. “I suppose I’ll cremate him on Kouhaush Muin. Jaesa liked him. She might prefer he not be tossed into a pit with the rest of them.”

“So be it.” The Twi’lek left the room to summon a servant.

Lady Kai sighed, and for a moment she felt her facade drop. “A lot of people died, Mira. Ours and theirs. Blinds and gifteds. What will be left of us when the war ends?”

“A shadow of a shadow,” Mirabelle answered. “A weak remnant that pretends it can go back to the way things used to be. But the past is closed to us. Longing will only make it worse.”

“The war needs to end.”

“Soon.”

They were interrupted by a transmission from Lana Beniko.

“Greetings Dark Lords. I wanted to inform you that our occupying force on Tython has been defeated. They weren’t able to find everything that Darth Arkous had hoped for, but they got enough of it. Thank you again for all your hard work. We hope to speak with you again soon at Vaiken Space Dock.”

*

Vaiken Space Dock

“Well done, well done indeed, my good Darths!” Arkous applauded. “That was a most masterful display of martial might! You were able to take the Temple with fewer losses than I had anticipated. At the time, I had hoped that would mean they could hold on for longer, but...” he sighed. “It doesn’t matter. You did splendidly, and I am deeply grateful.”

“‘But’ what, Arkous?” Hekaten asked. “Something didn’t go according to plan?”

His smile twitched. “I was certain that the Crown Reaper would stay out of the fighting, unless called for. I was also certain he wouldn’t be called at all for a while. But he chose to go ahead without orders. He devastated the occupying force in less than twenty minutes. Almost alone. And he killed Darth Occlus and the Imperial Guards while he was at it.”

“Another feather in his cap!” Lady Kai was impressed.

“I would feel a little more concerned if I were you,” Arkous admonished. “He landed around an hour after Darth Nox left. If you hadn’t wrapped up your assault as quickly as you had, you might have been forced to face him.”

Hekaten shivered.

“As it was, he stopped our raid on the archives. Much of the data and relics we wanted remain out of our hands.”

“Was Lord Goh able to get what you wanted, at least?”

“Some of it,” Arkous sighed. “I honestly do not know how much just yet.”

“Anything to add, Lana?” Hekaten prompted the pale woman.

“I am grateful you were able to avoid facing the Crown Reaper,” she answered. Poor woman looked even more exhausted than he felt. “His skills were beyond comprehension. The Empire can recover from even losses so great as Darths Soverus and Occlus. Even I am a mere cog. You two, along with a few others such as Darths Arkous and Marr...” she shuddered. “I am glad you didn’t have to face that particular test. And you crushed the occupying forces in the Korriban Academy too.”

“Why is everyone talking like it’s a foregone conclusion?” Lady Kai demanded. “Is the victor in this contest that clear?”

“No,” Lana said after some thought. “But odds are certainly in his favour.”

“His record time in clearing out our force proves that,” Arkous reminded them. “Twenty minutes! Against an entrenched force! We had managed to restart their defences, turn them against the former residents, and it all came to nothing!” His face tightened for a moment. “But don’t let that take away from your glorious accomplishment! You are heroes of the hour, our champions! It is my honor to bow before you!” And he indeed did bow low in respect, a gesture Lana repeated.

“We were pleased to serve the Empire,” Hekaten replied.

“Call us again the next time you have a party!” Lady Kai requested. “I’ll bring drinks!”

*

Kairegane emerged from the briefing room feeling quite satisfied from all the praise Darth Arkous had heaped on them. Satisfied, but exhausted.

I need to read Jasme’s letter again. Later. I’m too tired for that now. It’s enough to know she’s safe. She smiled slightly, thinking about the human.

When she closed her mouth again after the fourth yawn, Mira sniffed. “Yes, we get it already. You’re tired. Now please stop yawning before you make m-me...” she was cut off by her own long yawn, and she glared daggers at the tall Muinar. “I hate you right now.”

“Don’t get your knickers in a bunch,” Lady Kai drawled. “We did good work.”

“I suppose,” Hekaten admitted. “But something still doesn’t sit right with me.”

Before Lady Kai could ask him what he meant, the elevator doors opened wide. Her attempt at an exit was somewhat stymied by an armored figure nearly as tall as she was. “Darth Marr?” She felt doused suddenly, and in a lake of bubbling hot durasteel. Was she truly so tired she had not Sensed him before this?

“So… my Senses did not deceive me, after all,” the great Sith growled. “Darth Nox... and the Scarlet Queen, working together.”

“Yes,” Lady Kai tried to shrug off her fatigue, even momentarily. A member of the Dark Council was not someone you faced off against with your head addled. Especially not in a battle of pleasantries. “Don’t let it alarm you. We’re not plotting anything.”

“I believe you,” Marr sighed. “If only because you have a reputation for loud parties. Skulking around is all but a mortal sin so far as you are concerned, isn’t it?”

“I can be discreet, you know.”

“That is not what I was saying.”

“You will have to pardon us, Dark Lord,” Nox bowed. “We have had a somewhat busy few days.”

“Indeed. It is for that very purpose that I sought you both out.”

“You... were looking for us?”

“Yes. A busy few days indeed. In so brief a span, you led an assault on the heart of the Jedi Order, then repulsed one on our own. I wanted to thank you for your diligence.”

“I only helped with that second part,” Kairegane protested.

“As ever, it is our pleasure to serve the Empire,” Nox smiled.

He regarded her for a moment. “Walk with me. You too, Mirabelle.”

The blonde Sith froze mid-stride, caught in a clear escape attempt. Lady Kai gave her a hurt frown, and she responded with a theatrical sorry-puppy face.

He led them wordlessly to a private lounge. Neither Kai, Hekaten, Mira, or the guards felt the need to break the silence. The man seemed to stifle idle chatter with mere presence.

Once they were seated, one of Marr’s aides ran a security scan to ensure there were no bugs in the room. Then she bowed and left, leaving four very powerful Sith alone.

“I... don’t suppose you’re going to order yourself a drink, are you?” Kai asked. She thought she did a good job of keeping the hope out of her voice. She was quite curious to know what the great Darth Marr looked like without his mask. “I’ll buy.”

He snorted. “If only I had the luxury. Nor do I want to deprive you of your sleep any longer than I have to.”

“Straight to business then.”

“I will be brief,” Marr made it sound more like a threat than a reassurance. “I have Sensed a Disturbance in the Force.”

“Something related to the twin attacks?” Kai asked.

“Perhaps... and perhaps not. I only Sensed it yesterday, well after both attacks had begun. But long before the end. I have tried to ascertain the time, but I believe it was when you struck down the Jedi Councilor in the library. It Felt... like whispers from a shadow, dancing just at the edge of my sight. And yet instinct tells me it didn’t appear out of thin air. Oh no! It has been there longer, a hidden malice I could not detect, building up on itself for months. Perhaps years. It chills me to my bones. Something is coming, something deadly. I have rarely known true fear in my life, my Lords. Yet I feel it now, with every waking moment. Tread carefully. And be ready to defend the Empire again... at any time.”

Kai could feel her jaw hanging low. She turned to see Mira and Hekaten looking equally stupefied. Darth Marr had not managed to keep his seat—and his head—for four decades by admitting weakness of any sort.

“Why tell us?” Kai asked. “And in such... detail? Why not just send us a holomail telling us to be careful?”

“Because I believe in symbols,” the man sighed, and Kai suddenly had a sense that something was deflating. The man briefly gave off a very different aura, one of a tired, ageing man. “And you two have become symbols in your time as I did in mine. Your names rally the troops, your presence inspires hearts. You have indeed served the Empire well, and your service has been noted by far more than just the upper echelons. You are both our champions now. And I...? I grow old. I am not the force I once was. I can no longer shoulder these burdens alone. And if I must trust someone with the Empire, there is no one else I would go to.”

“No one?” Hekaten asked. “What of your Apprentice?”

“Lord Sharrig is still young. Untested. One day, perhaps. But the two of you have been forged in the fires of war and treachery without losing yourselves. You three are solid, and capable. Reliable. That is all that matters.”

He stood abruptly. “I will leave it at this until I have ascertained the nature of the threat. Or until you have. Call on me the moment you do, and we will defend the Empire together.” He turned before hitting the door switch. “Do not forget to sleep. For the Empire.”

With that he left, leaving a very confused trio of Sith behind. Hekaten left not long after, and Kai patted Mira’s arm.

“I don’t know if I’ve said this, but I was glad to run into you down there. You really put up a fierce resistance down there. I’m glad you didn’t die.”

Mira grinned. “I was looking for a suitable apprentice. Didn’t find any.”

“How about finding them young? Go to Ziost and sponsor several who catch your attention.”

“Tempting. You know, I happened to be watching you back there. Not on purpose, of course.”

“Even straight people can’t help but stare at perfection.”

She chuckled. “Right. You looked impressed when Arkous told you about the Crown Reaper’s arrival. But not surprised. You knew, didn’t you.”

“Damn. Anyone else caught on?”

“Arkous was caught up in his frustration. But that advisor of his… I can’t say. She looked as exhausted as I was, but I got the feeling little escapes her eyes.”

“Do you think she’s dangerous?”

Mira thought about that. “Yes. But not to us, not right now.”

“Thank you. My sense of danger is… warped.”

Mira laughed.

“About your question. Yes. I knew that Vajra had arrived on Tython before I’d even received news about Korriban.”

“How?”

Kai took a deep breath. “Do you remember Jasme?”

“Your former lover?”

“The one whose heart I broke, yes. She was… well. She started off as a prisoner. I picked her up on the Foundry, where I slew Revan. She was no fighter, just in the wrong place at the wrong time. I took her prisoner and put her to work as my archivist. Because that’s what she was among the Jedi.”

“She was a Jedi?”

“No, she just works in their archives.”

“I see.”

“You disapprove?”

“A little. She’s from the other side. Who knows what intel she took back to the Jedi when you ransomed her?”

“You think she gleaned any intel at all? She didn’t even hear about Warpath until the last time I saw her. And she was considering staying with me forever. She might have, if I hadn’t driven her away.”

“Right. But what does she have to do with anything?”

“Right before I left for Korriban, she sent me a message telling me she was fine. She said Vajra had arrived and freed the Temple.”

“You’re still in contact with her?”

“No, she just sent me a few messages. Saying basically the same thing, each time. That she was fine. You see, the last time I saw her, I was sending her off to Khamag Tayir. She witnessed the fall of Esulun’s people. She saw Warpath firsthand.”

“Warpath?! I thought Baras was the one who killed Esulun!”

“His forces were there too. They were the ones who fired the first shots. But Warpath appeared in the middle of the battle. Killed both sides. Apparently, it took him a little over an hour. For almost a week, I thought that Jasme had been killed too. That I’d been forced to leave her corpse far from her home, amidst those of strangers. And then she sent me a message telling me she was alright. And gave me an outline of what happened. Warpath’s handlers captured her after retrieving him—she’d found herself a good hiding place—but they took her to the prison Vajra was being held at. He’s her adopted brother, apparently. He broke free after picturing Jasme suffering the same torment he had, and injured Warpath in their escape.”

“BLOODY HELL!”

“Hey, we knew he was good. I mean, he killed the Emperor.”

“Right…”

“And this was another message telling me she’d survived. Thanks again to Vajra.”

“You sound jealous.”

“I—she did say he’s her brother. But…”

“You’re afraid she might fall in love with him.”

“I’m half afraid he’s in love with her already. Who wouldn’t be? She’s gorgeous, she’s funny, she’s sweet, and she’s smart… I’m being foolish, I know. I should be feeling pure relief that she’s safe. Instead, I’m having these selfish thoughts about being her hero.”

“I suppose that’s your right. Feelings are never one color, but a whole damn spectrum of contrasting colors.”

“Thank you.”

“You need to give up on Jasme. She’s not coming back after what you did.”

“Not what she said. She told me that she wouldn’t mind trying again, if ever there was peace again.”

“Is that why you want peace so hard?”

“I’ve always wanted peace. Long before I met her.”

“Right.”

“I’m serious!”

“I—okay.”

“So, there you have it. I knew Vajra was down there, and I knew he’d driven our forces off in record time.”

“Very well.” She sighed. “I’m amazed Jasme’s first thought was to contact you.”

“She’s considerate. Unlike myself.”

“You can always change.”

“That’s what I thought when we started our relationship. But then I broke her heart. I’m a terrible girlfriend.”

“But you must have done something right, too. She does want to give you a second chance, after all. Think about that.” She got up and stretched. “I’m heading back to Corvus, now. Want me to pass any messages to Ray and Vette?”

“Yeah. Tell them I’m waiting on that wedding invite!”

Mira grinned.

*

Tython

Vajra stayed on Tython for the next few days. He oversaw the efforts to recover the bodies of the fallen, but also checked in on Jasme as often as he could.

“You don’t have to do this you know,” she told him. “I wasn’t hurt that badly.”

“I know. But you know me. I’m such a worrier.”

“Awww, come here, you!” she gave him another hug, and he laughed appreciatively. She was known as quite the hugger among her close friends and colleagues. “Will you take a walk with me?”

“Alright.” He turned to see if Kira was around—the redhead had arrived not long after the garrison had been defeated, but had for once not cared that she’d just barely missed out on the fun.

“Can we make this just the two of us?” she asked.

Oh? She had never asked for a private word with him before. She was the type who was always comfortable so long as everyone in earshot was someone she trusted.

“Very well.”

She led him on one of the quieter trails. The former beauty had been scarred by shelling, so there were few taking leisurely walks.

“You know, I had always thought that the whole ‘My Hero!’ routine was unrealistic, but being rescued myself, and by you of all people, showed me how real such cliches were!” she beamed at him.

“I only wish I could have come sooner,” he replied. “If I’d left the very second I knew you were in danger...”

She laughed. “Oh my, so concerned for my safety? It almost sounds like you’re in love with me!”

“I do love you, Jasme!” he protested. “You’re my big sister!”

“Hmmm.” Her expression went from delight to sorrow. “I wish you still had your real ones. You deserve real family.”

“I wouldn’t be able to talk to them. Or see them. Leaving Rudraksha was sacrilege. And I may have been only four, but I still made the decision to leave.”

“Don’t worry. They’ll see the light someday.”

“I don’t know if it matters,” he responded. “Not with my family gone. This is my home now. And I have new family.”

“But this is the first time you’ve set foot on Tython since Ranna died.”

He flinched.

“I’m sorry. It was dumb of me to mention it.”

“It’s alright. It had stopped stinging a while ago, but...”

“But you went down to see Kolovish, didn’t you?”

“Yes.”

Jasme sighed and patted his shoulder. The former Matriarch had been poisoned by an assassin during the chaos. No one seemed to know who it was. It was undoubtedly related to the nefarious secret society she’d been part of. The ‘Star Cabal.’ The poison running through her system had no antidote, a medic had informed Vajra, so he had shown her a mercy many probably thought she didn’t deserve by killing her. That, and seeing her at all, had dug up old wounds.

“You seemed to be in a lot of pain,” she said gently. “Even before you heard about Kolovish.”

Her insight did not surprise him. She knew him very well, after all. “I... I got carried away during the fight,” he admitted. “It felt like that time I attacked Angral.”

She sighed and patted his back again. “I see.”

“I landed in the battlefield and just went all out. Showed little mercy. Did not offer anyone the chance to surrender until they were weeping for their mothers. And I killed scores of them before they could even blink. Sith especially.”

“And you did it for me,” she whispered. “You’re not beating yourself up for caring for your big sister’s life, are you? I would have done the same if I were in your shoes.” She paused and considered how ridiculous that was. “Or tried to. I’m not much of a deadly fighter.”

“I know, I know,” he sighed heavily. “But there was something else. When I let loose, it felt like something I had done... back then. Back when the Emperor had me. I felt like I’d done this before. Slaughter on this level.” He shuddered, and he felt his mask slipping. He started breathing more rapidly, and his eyes nervously darted from one landmark to another. “I... I... it was horrible. I thought I had killed innocent people. Children.” His voice croaked at that last, and he felt his head being directed to her shoulder.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay!” she soothed him. “I hope you remember that it wasn’t your fault, right?”

“Barely,” he stammered, his teeth chattering. “I could barely remember. Because once the fighting stopped, I started to hear them. All the cries for mercy. It felt horrible. Worse... It felt like... like he was stirring again!”

“There, there!” she whispered. “Remember to make an appointment with Row, okay? You need to see her again. And soon.”

He nodded, and remembered the old training. With meditation. but before he could say anything further, he Sensed someone approaching.

He turned around, and briefly a Togruta appeared. “Master Kiwiiks!” he exclaimed. “I didn’t know you had returned!”

“Greetings, Vajra!” Bela Kiwiiks returned the greeting. “It took some time to wrap up my work. But enough about that. Are you alright? You look... ill!” She approached and placed a palm on Vajra’s forehead. “Hmmm... Physically you seem alright.”

“I... I almost lost control during the fight,” Vajra admitted. “Brought back some bad memories as added guilt.”

“Honestly, I can’t fault you for it,” Master Kiwiiks said gently. “And how are you, Jasme? I was most relieved to hear you and the others were safe. You kept the archive staff together almost single-handedly. That is quite an accomplishment!”

“It wasn’t single-handedly, Master Kiwiiks. We had a lot of good people protecting us.”

“Keeping everyone from panicking is a great accomplishment on its own. Everyone loves you as much as you love them.”

“And I was glad to help. I’m good with people.”

“It is our great fortune that you are.”

“So, what did you want from us?” Jasme asked her. “Or was it only one of us?”

“I wanted to speak to you, Jasme; but clearly, I need to have a chat with Vajra too. You are in dire need of help, my child. Now that I am here, I can sense your pain eating away at you.”

“I will schedule an appointment with my therapist as soon as she is available,” Vajra promised.

“I am glad to hear it. In addition, I think I’ll abuse my authority as a Councilor to grant you an extended leave of absence.”

Vajra felt like the rug had been pulled out from under his feet. “What? But I can still serve, I really can! I am happy working with Refugee Resettlement!”

“This isn’t a punishment, Vajra. Your pain breaks my heart. After everything you have given this galaxy, I want you to have a good life too. I want your soul to be healed. Goodness knows, we on the Council have neglected your needs for too long.”

“I... I understand, Master.”

“Stay a while longer, if you wish. But please think of where you would like to holiday as soon as you can. You deserve the downtime.”

“Of course, Master.”

“And Jasme?”

“Yes Master?”

“Whenever you get the time, I’d like you to help Master Gnost Dural cataloguing the archives. See what was actually stolen. He’s had to extend therapeutic vacation offers to some other archivists as well, so we’re short-staffed.”

“I’d be happy to help!” she said happily.

“And there’s no need to rush. Take all the time you need before returning.”

“No... no I think we were finished talking,” Vajra said quickly. “Maybe I can help Tee Seven and tech? I’ve always found routine maintenance work to be soothing.”

“That’s a good idea.”

The three walked back to the Temple, and Jasme waved an energetic goodbye before they parted ways.

“Oh, before I forget!” she said, doubling back. “I got a call from Theron,” she said in a low voice. “He’s asked to see me tomorrow. And he asked me to bring you too. Just as well I want you to finally meet him officially. It’s past time. Carrick Station. Please be there!”

*

Chapter Text

Carrick Station

Vajra sat in front of his plate, idly stirring the food in front of him. Although he had ordered it thirty minutes ago, he still hadn’t gotten round to eating it yet. He was feeling better after leaving Tython, having put some distance from a major source of his baggage. He couldn’t keep running like this forever, he needed to come to grips one day with... well. Everything.

One day at a time, he told himself. He did, however, accept the guilt of having ordered food when he wasn’t so hungry. There was a scarcity in places!

It was after nearly an hour of waiting that Jasme arrived, and although she brightly waved at him first, she made for a different table, beckoning him over. The occupant, a human with a red jacket, had been watching Vajra the whole time. Vajra took off his mask as he sat down, hoping the shadows hid his face a little. He didn’t remember Theron Shan very well. He looked rather different now anyway, more rugged and matured. Interesting. His signature in the Force was completely different from not only his twin sister, but his parents too. As for appearance, he looked a lot like Master Satele if you knew what you were looking for, but with a ruddier complexion. His features were much more chiseled. He definitely got those from Supreme Commander Malcolm. What was more, there were cybernetics installed above and beside his left eye.

“Good to see you again Vajra! Meet my dashing brother!”

The two men shook hands. “Hi ‘Theron.’ I’m Vajra Devarath.”

“Hey. I’m Theron Shan. SIS.”

“Nice to meet you for real.” Vajra smiled broadly. “You don’t hide your last name, do you?”

Theron gave his sister a shrewd look. “It’s a bluff. A lot of people think we’re distantly related, others just think I’ve assumed the name.”

“Hey, it rings rather more bells when you work with Jedi!” she said defensively. “Mom and I are often close enough that people can compare us.”

“Besides, I heard that your dad sniffed you out at once.”

“Whatever,” Theron clapped her back. “It’s not really important.”

“Isn’t it? I haven’t forgotten Subutarik.”

“Well… the one I haven’t forgotten is Kushlaruk. But it’s not my call to make. Others assign my codenames for me. The Director thought he was being smart with ‘Noreth Hans.’ But maybe we can move on?”

“Before that… you were watching me for the past hour,” Vajra said innocently. “See anything you like?”

Theron smiled. “Sort of. You look like you’re never gonna eat that.”

“True, sadly,” Vajra said, and pushed the tray towards him. “Help yourself.”

“Thanks.” Under his sister’s disapproving glare, Theron dug in. “Payday is a few days away, and I’m kinda short.”

“Job not paying you enough?”

“It’s never enough,” he groaned. “But it’s worse now. The Tython-Korriban thing has me conducting investigations on my own dime.”

Vajra’s eyes narrowed. “The Tython-Korriban thing?”

Theron swallowed a spoonful of lukewarm stew. “You didn’t know? The same time that the Empire raided Tython, our own forces were raiding Korriban. A good chunk of our forces had been pulled away from Tython in fact, which was why it was vulnerable enough for them to take it. I was there myself. Provided tech and strategic support for the ground team.”

Vajra stared hard at the spy. “And let me guess... there’s a good chance Korriban was suddenly ‘rendered vulnerable’ too? By forces diverted to, say, the Tython raid?”

Theron fired off a finger gun. “Poof! Good guess. Five points to the unmasked Jedi. Someone is playing both sides. Like that Star Cabal, that one Matriarch Kolovish was part of. They convinced the Republic and Empire to each launch a raid at the same time. Not just allowing something otherwise impossible to be attempted, but ensuring that it succeeded. It’s the most likely explanation.”

“Kolovish was poisoned during the raid,” Vajra said. He felt cold. Had he been too quick with his mercy? Might she have had some insights to offer?

“That particular poison damages the brain. There was no way we were getting anything out of a victim, and there is no antidote. You were right to end her suffering.”

“That’s quite the conspiracy...” Vajra was suddenly alarmed. “Are you okay with discussing it here? We’re out in the open!”

“Relax!” Theron tapped a device on his wrist. “I’m jamming all listening devices. And there’s enough noise that people can’t eavesdrop. You could tell I was watching you right away, right? I may not have the Force but I’ve picked up instincts for this kind of thing too. And I’ve scoped everyone out. There’re no snoops here.”

“Oh.”

“You are right to be cautious though. What do you say we move this conversation to your ship instead? I believe you call it the ‘Garuda’?”

“That’s right,” Vajra replied. “Bay 24.”

“Lead the way.”

“Don’t rush with the food,” Vajra suggested as he put his mask back on.

“Thanks.”

Jasme covered her face with a hand and sighed heavily. “So, the very first thing you discuss with my best friend is a conspiracy? No small talk, barely any introductions... Brother, this is why you can’t get a date.”

“Quiet. Eating.”

*

Aboard the Garuda’s Wing

Vajra led his guests straight to the briefing room. His Steward droid, C2-N2, graciously welcomed them and offered set to work on chilled beverages and snacks while Vajra got them settled in.

“You’re leaner than I thought,” Theron said by way of greeting. “I feel really guilty depriving you of your grub.”

Tee Seven had already set up the holo projector, but as it turned out, Theron didn’t need it yet.

“If I had that kind of evidence I would go to SIS,” he said. “Or the Supreme Commander. As it stands, I’ve got squat.”

“Who is your top suspect?”

“Colonel Darrok. He planned the Op. If not him, his ‘trusted source.’ The one who told him about the momentary weakness in Korriban’s defenses. I’ve been digging, but not found anything yet. He’s either keeping a low profile for now, or is completely innocent.”

“Colonel Darrok,” Vajra rubbed his jaw. “I’ve heard of him. He’s a decorated war hero. Fought on Balmorra and Corellia. Who masterminded the Tython operation?”

“I’m still looking into it, but it was probably Darth Arkous, the Head of Imperial Offense. His star has been on the rise.”

“I’d heard that Darth Nox was present on the ground. I did kill Occlus, but he was nothing special. It seems the bar for Dark Councilor has dropped.”

“Yeah. Come to think of it, you appeared out of nowhere and wiped out that invasion all but single-handedly. You set a record.”

Vajra shrugged, feeling uncomfortable. “It would probably have been harder if Kaimeryn or Nox were there. They’re truly dangerous.”

“Either way. If it comes to a fight, I hope we can count on you.”

“I’d rather it didn’t come to a fight,” Jasme said nervously. “Vajra has his limits too, you know.”

“Don’t worry. I try to avoid pitched battles. At best, I use loud flashy bangs to create the illusion of a fight.”

“Not completely wrong. Yet your loud flashy bangs have killed two Council Darths,” Jasme reminded him.

“That’s right! You killed Darth Mekhis… and you killed Karrid too?” They were among the only Council Darths Vajra had not personally killed, not counting Arho, who had been killed by his partner Kira. Now, he was interested. I’m sorry, Kana. Poor Master Gnost. “I gotta hear this one!”

“Sure. It’s a good story. Lots of explosions. Some other time though.”

“Okay, back to conspiracy it is.”

“The only thing I’ve found suspicious is frequent, covert trips to Manaan. Now, we have interests on that world of course, what with kolto production being integral to all medicine in all walks of life. But Manaan is not a world he’s ever been assigned to. Still, there’s always a chance he’s seeing someone who lives there. A friend or a lover. Maybe he has a business on the side.”

“How do you know it’s not a top-secret assignment? He is special forces after all.”

“Good question. Once you work in SIS long enough, you can tell when a Spec Forces soldier is on a top-secret assignment or not. There are files that get hidden away. Tracks covered that lead back to Special Forces if you know how to look. This time, it looks like he’s covering his own.”

“Meaning, not classified by the military.”

“Right.”

“What’s your next step then?”

“To find out what’s on Manaan. If anything.”

“What if it’s a dead end? How long will it take you to clear this lead?”

“Honestly, I don’t know. It could be days, or it could be months. I obviously can’t take that long. That’s where I need some other help.”

“Me?”

“Just... keep a look out. Think from other angles.”

“Theron, I may not be the dullest knife in the drawer, but I haven’t been trained for uncovering the covert.”

“Well, there’s no one else I feel comfortable turning to,” he sighed heavily. “The worst case is a conspiracy after all. I’ll be honest, I’m not even sure about you.”

“HEY!” Jasme interjected.

“No offence. I know you’re Jasme’s best friend… not to mention everything we’ve been through together on Balmorra, but...” he shook his head. “I hate conspiracies. Make me too paranoid. Don’t know whom to trust. Unfortunately, that’s what it takes to fight one. At least at the start, until you get a bunch of names. I’ve seen many agents burned by people they thought they could trust.”

“You could have spoken to Master Satele then. Or Malcolm.”

“Those two have eyes on them. At all times. They can be observed.”

“I’m high profile too.”

“One of the reasons I was hesitant to open up to you in the first place.”

“Theron!” Jasme warned again.

“No, it’s okay,” Vajra patted her arm. “I understand. The Jedi had to deal with a conspiracy too. I did not envy Master Nirol, walking around without knowing whom to trust and whom not to. So how about a show of good faith?”

“I’m sorry?”

“My two biggest secrets. The type I asked Jasme not to tell you or Supreme Commander Malcolm about.”

“You really don’t have to—”

“It’s a show of trust. First one. Did you hear about a mission led by Tol Braga, several years ago? One which I was a part of?”

“Well, yes. The mission of mercy you were on, before your shuttle was shot down. Never heard the specifics though. All I know is that you were taken prisoner, then held captive for a year. Master Braga and several others actually fell to the Dark Side, where others just died.”

“The mission was to capture the Emperor. And ummm... bring him to the Light.”

Theron’s face was the very picture of shock. “What? How? Why!” he ran a hand through his spiky hair. “Of all the stupid, self-righteous...”

“I know. I told them from the start it was a dumb idea.”

“That’s putting it mildly!” Theron looked like he was no longer able to contain his surprise. He reached for a cold drink that See Two had left. “Why did you go along with it?”

“I didn’t have much choice,” Vajra sighed. “I had actually... talked with the Emperor. Long distance call. Seen his inner self.” And I had helped Kira free herself from his grasp. “That made them think I was destined for this mission. And nothing I said deterred them. Braga was particularly obsessed. The Council went along with it because they believed that the fighting wouldn’t end with his death. I guess they were right.”

Theron slammed the glass down on the table, having emptied the whole thing. C2 hastened to refill it. “So, how did it turn out?”

“An unmitigated disaster,” Vajra responded bluntly. “The Emperor could enslave minds at close range. Some of the others didn’t even last ten steps before they fainted. Others fell after a blow or two. I pushed the Emperor back a little. I managed to hurt him, but that was when he switched tactics on me. Used his new slaves to attack me, then destroyed my will once he had me cornered. Made me his slave. Some of us were imprisoned, some were... killed. Slowly. Braga and the others became Sith. Me... I became one of his enforcers. Like his Wrath, but without the brass tags. I killed a lot of people at His command. I don’t know who all, or how many. But I can hear their screams when I have my eyes closed.”

Theron was unnerved. “Bloody hell!” He emptied another glass.

“You’ll need to sleep in the fresher tonight if you keep drinking like this,” Jasme warned him.

“I’ll go easier,” he nodded. “How did you get out of it?”

Vajra shrugged. “One of my ‘missions’ put me in proximity to Jasme. I returned to my senses when I realized I was about to kill her. She saved my soul.” Jasme hugged him. “After that, I developed a high resistance to Mind Control. I’m almost immune to it now. Scourge helped me too, once my mind was my own again. It turned out he’d been preparing for this his entire life. He had a vision of the future, one that showed him that I had the best chance to kill the Emperor. He helped me return to the Jedi. And he helped me stop his former Master. Ironically it was this very failure that gave me the tools I needed to win that second time. But...”

“It wasn’t without cost...” Theron whispered. He reached over and patted Vajra’s hand. “I’m sorry you had to go through that.”

“Thanks.”

“And thank you, as well. For saving Jasme.” Theron ran a hand through his hair. “I can’t believe you broke free in that situation—for her, clearly—you must love her way more than I thought. I’m starting to see why she and Satele—” he cleared his throat. Wiped his eyes. “It’s pretty sweet, actually. I hope your second secret isn’t as dark as that one.”

“No, this is more like a secret weapon. A Force Gift beyond the standard package. This one is perhaps even more sensitive, as knowing I have it will allow our enemies to counteract it.”

“I see.”

“I can See patterns in the Force, made by causality. The Force binds everything, from a particle on one side of the galaxy to one on the other, and everything in between. With everything so deeply connected, anything that happens to one object affect everything else. A wave that expands out so far, affecting some few objects, or a lot of them. And of course, the reverse is true as well. It can be affected by outside forces too. This creates a pull and push on the surface of the Force. Creating strains and fault lines. Certain places are weaker than others, a flashpoint that could trigger a cascade effect beyond what conventional reason says. For example, the right man to start a revolution, or the right woman to end it. A critical fixture in a society, or a trigger so dangerous it can destroy one. And I can See them.”

“Oh... right.” Theron took another nervous drink, but managed to keep it to a sip. “So, what does it amount to?”

“Well, usually I can see if something—or someone—is more important than they first appear. I suppose it would help us if I find myself on ground zero when these conspirators happen to make their move, and if it’s a big move with far reaching consequences. It will certainly alert me to keep my eyes open. I can’t actually hunt them down though. And even a major player may not have any big Crevices on them if their plot isn’t ripe enough. Plus, I can’t tell the difference between the metaphorical bomber and the bomb.”

“Interesting.” Theron said, stroking his chin.

“It’s a lot more helpful in combat though. It took some doing, but seeing how these patterns form has allowed me to learned to create and exploit them in battle. I can also see an opponent’s weak point, or a group’s. I can see who is keeping the iron in everyone’s spine, and therefore whose loss would make a line falter.”

“That is huge!” Theron’s eyes widened. “And this is the secret to all of your wins?”

“Some of them, yes. I often fight without the Sight, as it can distract me.”

“Still, I can understand why you keep it quiet. And it’s a big thing to trust me with.”

“You are my twin, after all,” Jasme said softly. “Only reason he trusts you is because I’ve vouched for you.”

“I’ll try to be worthy of the trust though, I promise.”

“And I’ll try to be worthy of yours. Whatever this conspiracy is, I’ll help you to the best of my abilities. I’ll keep my eyes open while you check out Manaan.”

“I’m a bit relieved now actually.” Theron slumped against the chair. “Thank you for your help.” He straightened after a bit. “I’ll see what I can learn in two weeks on Manaan. If nothing turns up by then I’ll contact you.”

“You can take the snacks and some extra rations from my supplies with you if you’re having money issues,” Vajra offered. “And although Jedi aren’t allowed technically to own things, I’ve been granted a fairly decent budget for my vacation. You’re welcome to some of it.”

“Vajra!” Jasme warned him with a glare.

“... I really don’t like handouts,” Theron groaned.

“This is for a job,” Vajra insisted. “You said you’re doing this investigation on your own dime. I’m just adding mine to the war chest. It’s not like I’m buying a luxury house for you.” He didn’t mention that he didn’t really need much money.

“I understand. You’re right, it’s for a larger cause. I will pay you back someday, I promise.”

“I’m glad that’s settled,” he smiled.

“Right, right,” Jasme said, still looking a little annoyed. “If I may ask a tiny little favor though?”

“What is it?”

“I was hoping you’d both spend a lot of time on guy talk,” she sighed. “Tell each other about yourselves. Get to know one another. Open up.”

“I’m all work for the moment,” Theron reminded her. “I’m afraid ‘Spy’ is really all there is to me at the moment. And Vajra just told me a few key details about himself. That’s enough to get a start on, isn’t it?”

“Not for me.” She shook her head. “I want you to be more than just a spy. Being one person, all the time, is… not healthy. Brother, friend, lover, traveler, fan, reader, racer… you need more going on in your life. I’ll whip you back in shape one day.”

“Oh, how I live for that day!”

*

Chapter Text

Manaan

Especially when it came to fieldwork, Lana had worked alone more often than not, her entire adult life. But conspiracies had a way of making her truly feel the bite of loneliness. Where before, she could have sought out a nice cafe or drama club to relax in, perhaps chat up an old acquaintance, today she didn’t know where she could let her guard down. Everyone was suspect until they weren’t.

Take that human male in the red jacket, across the plaza. His manner screamed SIS, and he had arrived mere moments before her, making the same inquiries; though it looked like he was after a different quarry than hers. Colonel Darrok, hero of a dozen Republic campaigns. But in a way, they were also the same thing. Where Arkous had been the one who dreamed up the Tython assault, Darrok had masterminded the Korriban end. If there was a grander conspiracy, there was a good chance those two were colluding, or influenced by those who were.

But that didn’t mean anyone investigating them from the Republic end was her ally. Perhaps he was a double bluff. Perhaps Arkous had noticed her snooping around and arranged for one of his Republic allies to poke around, to trick her into approaching him.

Still, an ally could be very useful to her at the moment, so she decided clearing him was high on her priority list as of this moment. She quickly committed his appearance to memory—that strong jaw, those olive-green eyes, his choice of weapons—a B-9 Tempest blaster and a custom-built gauntlet—and his cybernetics. She thought she recognized one of the cybernetics from a recent report about a certain spy, the one who killed Darths Mekhis and Karrid, but for now she would put all preconceptions aside so that she could look him up with an open mind. Once he took an exit, she enjoyed her caf for another ten minutes before making her way to a different alcove. She suspected the agent was watching, but walked as openly as she could. She was fairly well disguised, and spies had a tendency to notice attempts at dodging surveillance. Nothing disarmed them quite like an average walker without a care in the world.

*

Theron Shan watched the plaza for almost thirty minutes after taking the exit, but spotted nothing out of the ordinary. He had thought he felt eyes on him once or twice, but maybe it was his imagination acting up again. The only one to catch his eye was a human woman with long dark hair¹. He had no idea why, however; she seemed average in a lot of ways. Somewhat more attractive than most, clothed in the sort of casuals one expected from traders in downtime. Her boots seemed magnificent though, the sort of luxurious items that seemed odd on a modest spacer; but then, a lot of people loved splurging on that one type of accessory. Enough to burn through months’ worth of savings on it. Although, this one did not look worth more than seven hundred credits at best. Her makeup was modest too. She had a Watchman blaster belted to her waist; those models were perfect for self-defense. They were designed to be left on stun rather than kill, meaning she never expected to use it for anything other than protection. He watched her walk out of the plaza, still reaching for any reason, any at all, why she would set off an alarm bell, before deciding that maybe he just found her straightforward ordinariness attractive.

He sighed regretfully. What a time for those type of instincts to kick in! Hooking up was bad enough on a regular assignment, but doing so while working solo against a grand conspiracy was idiotic. There would be better uses of his time by far.

Like following the trail Darrok had failed to completely erase.

*

Eight days later

Lana had found his name quite easily. ‘Theron Shan.’ For a spy, he certainly wasn’t low-profile. He was almost as flashy as some Jedi and Sith, and had a bad habit of finding the brightest spotlights. And doing something or the other amusing while he had it. Attacking a Council Darth in his underwear? Who in blazes did that?

Plus, he always wore that signature jacket of his!

And yet he was definitely effective. Few people could have bested not one but two members of the Dark Council. That was one more than even Darth Nox. He was also dogged and cunning.

Rather handsome too... yet he was single. Why was that? The most likely answer came readily. He was married to his work, something Lana could relate to.

There was one other thing that made her feel an instant kinship with the man, it was that he was her mirror. Where she had been Darth Arkous’ chief aide, he had been Colonel Darrok’s, at least in the months leading up to the raids. And like her, he had been a pawn. So far as she could tell, he really was working against his former superior. In fact, the more she studied his profile the more certain she felt about her next step: contact.

If both of them pooled in their resources, maybe she could—she felt a sudden rush as a familiar presence washed over her. It was cool yet refreshing, like a gentle mountain breeze. The sensation made her unconsciously search the heavens for the ship that had just entered the atmosphere, and Reach for the Presence...

Until she realized with a start what she was about to do. She pulled back completely and Masked her presence. She needed to be more careful in future.

Now, she had a job to do. With a deep breath she began to compose her message.

*

Theron Shan was reasonably certain that he was not the only one seeking answers about the Academy raids. While researching the lab Darrok frequented, he had discovered another person working on the same lab, with the same secrecy: Darth Arkous. The Sith who masterminded the Tython half of the raid. It stood to reason that he was in cahoots with Darrok, so he did a little digging on him too. And he found squat.

But he had also found another gem; Darth Arkous’ chief advisor, Lana Beniko. The SIS had precious little on her, a sighting on Hoth that may have been her, and a few theses that were definitely by her. There was however, something else he could track; the difference in performance around her. She was a meticulous planner, and every office she had worked in had seen a marked improvement in attention to detail and efficiency.

She may not have been the mastermind behind the Tython attack, but she certainly was a major factor in its success. However, assuming that the main point of the raid had been to cover up a theft, her expertise had not been seen at all in the heist portion of the plan, suggesting she had been in the dark when it came to the true purpose of the raid.

She was just like him.

But the most interesting thing he had dug up on her was the change in her schedule. She had continued doing her work as usual, but had spent an increasing amount of time doing... something.

And he had a guess what that might be; she was investigating her boss.

He suspected she was right here on Manaan. He had not seen hide nor hair of Lady Beniko, but she had applied for a brief leave of absence a few weeks prior, and was working remotely. There was someone here making the same inquiries as him, and he was quite certain it was her. Personally.

He had no evidence, but he realized that he needed an ally from the Imperial end of things if he was to piece everything together. And she was it.

Her profile came with several holonet addresses, he supposed he could send her an encrypted mail... As he began to type out his letter, he was shocked to receive one himself.

It took him several minutes to decrypt it, but the contents made him hopeful.

Agent Shan,

My name is Lana Beniko. You know who I am, by now. We are both tracking one half of the same objective, but each lack clarity of the bigger picture they carry. To be blunt, whatever conspiracy they are part of, we can be sure it involves both Republic and Imperial conspirators. In order to stop such a conspiracy, both halves must be eliminated. At the same time, preferably.

We each have resources the other might need, and we both want to learn the truth of the Academy heists. I suggest we meet up, and pool our resources.

(I sense the imminent arrival of Master Vajra Devarath. Your ally, I assume? I do hope so; he can be a great help when it comes time for action.)

Awaiting your response,

Lana Beniko.

PS. As a show of good faith, I’ve included something you might find interesting.

There was a small attachment with the mail, a dossier on something called the ‘Order of Revan.’ Theron scanned it over quickly, then sent his response.

Dear Lana,

Thank you for the letter. I was just about to send you one myself. What are the odds?

I agree, the destruction of these conspirators will take people on both sides. I am still not convinced you’re not one of them, but I am willing to take that chance this one time. Maybe it’s misguided hope, maybe it’s the knowledge that someone as methodical as you could never have been involved in the heist portion of the plan. Or maybe it’s the document you sent me, which has won me over by teasing my obsession with secret societies. Either way, I can’t afford to turn away the opportunity you’ve presented me with.

I’m sending you my coordinates—though I’m sure you already have them—and am looking forward to meeting you in person.

Yours truly,

Theron Shan.

With his letter composed, he decided he needed to order refreshments asap, and for one more guest than he had expected. He was glad he had decided to call Jasme in along with Vajra. She might be better at researching the history side of things.

*

Vajra walked into the plaza, acutely aware of a hidden presence watching him from somewhere nearby. He could tell when there was a Masked presence nearby thanks to the sudden muting of Shatterpoints. Sadly, pinpointing the Masked one was difficult unless they made an aggressive move.

Was it one of Darrok’s? Or perhaps an Imperial spy observing Manaan? There was a Sith here, he could Feel their presence. But that was some distance away, and underwater. The one observing him was another matter.

He decided that he would worry about the sneak only if they got in his way.

Why does it feel so familiar? The Sith had almost tried Reaching Out as he’d docked. Curiosity? Or had they met before?

He continued to look around just in case, as Jasme fished out her datapad and input the signal Theron had given them. In seconds, they had a map and a waypoint. He started to follow Jasme, still throwing the occasional look around. There were too many people here, but perhaps that was its own blessing. He couldn’t find the sneak, but they wouldn’t start anything.

The road to the coordinates was a straight one, not to mention, close to the shuttle pad. Within ten minutes, they had found their spy and his safehouse.

“Let’s say hello, shall we?” Jasme asked brightly.

“After you,” Vajra replied.

Theron looked much the same as he had the last time they’d met. His red jacket sat hanging from his shoulders. He sat with his feet on the table, apparently composing a holo message. “Good timing!” he said with a grin. “Come on in! I’m getting us some food. And don’t worry, Sis! I got money this time.”

“Please don’t tell me you stole it,” Jasme said apprehensively.

“Alright, I won’t tell you. So welcome to Manaan!” he stood up and placed his hands on the desk. “First time here?”

“For me? Yes. Raudraksha, Uphrades and Tython are so different from this hot and humid ocean world. At least it’s not Tatooine.”

“I’ve been here before,” Jasme said. “Researching some old writings. The Selkath have their own Force Users called the Order of Shaasa. Very different from Jedi and Sith, closer to Voss. Or maybe the Dathomiri Witch clans.”

“That’s great!” Theron replied. “Normally I’d let you talk all day about these splendid people, but time grows short.”

“Right,” Vajra felt slightly regretful. He loved hearing Jasme talking about her work. She made it sound so interesting! “You had a lead on the conspiracy.”

“Darrok is squeaky clean. Someone’s still covering his tracks. And yet I’ve found the one thing mightily suspicious about him. An underwater lab here on Manaan.”

“So? What’s so special about this lab? How do you know it isn’t a part of his, or Manaan’s work?”

“Because it’s privately funded,” Theron replied. “Darrok co-owns the lab, along with one ‘Darth Arkous’. The two have made a lot of visits the last few months or so. They’re both here right now.”

“So we have a link between both the raid masterminds,” Jasme said thoughtfully.

“It’s enough for solid suspicion, but not proof. I need someone to descend into the lab, evading all the security—which is quite high by the way, lots of guns and droids—and see what they’re up to.”

His eyes fell expectantly on Vajra. “I’ll check it out,” he replied. “I’ll take Tee Seven with me. But first... I Sensed someone here. Near the lading pad. A Masked presence.”

“Can’t say I’m too surprised,” Theron replied with narrow eyes. “I’ll continue to keep an eye out, but I still have a job of my own to do.”

“So, you won’t be coming with me?”

“I’m afraid not. I’ve made contact with a potential ally, and I need to meet her. Hopefully she’s the asset I think she is.”

“Alright. Just take care of yourself, won’t you?”

“I’ve kept this on me since the attack on Tython,” Jasme held up a beautiful lightsaber. “I built it myself.”

“Really?” Theron looked surprised. And a little envious. “I want one too!”

“With some training, maybe!”

“Can you light it up? I want to see the blade!”

“It’s not a Life Day tree,” Jasme protested but obliged. It was a beautiful olive-green blade. “It’s the colour of dad’s eyes,” she said happily. “And yours too.” She gave her twin a small pat on his head.

“It’s kinda small!” Theron observed.

“It’s the size I’m most comfortable with. If I ever pull this out, it’s for defense. Personal, not to protect my troops. Reach isn’t a priority.”

“And I was glad to give her a quick fresher course,” Vajra smiled. “A little practice and she’ll be good enough to defend herself against most Sith.”

“Briefly,” Jasme added. “Sith have other weapons after all. I’m not strong enough to stop a Force Choke. Or being tossed around like a ragdoll. This is just a delaying tactic.”

“Alright. Hopefully you won’t need it.”

“I guess we’re off to the lab then. Ready, Tee Seven?”

The Astromech chirped and followed Vajra out.

“Wait, I’ve ordered some drinks—!”

“Huh? Oh! Maybe after.”

*

The twins watched the Jedi leave the room.

“He’s not going to have much at all, is he?” Theron asked when the doors closed.

Jasme sighed. “No.” It was so frustrating! No matter how she approached it, by begging or demanding or suggesting, Vajra kept his eats light. It depressed her. She did not want to linger on it right now.

“So, who are we waiting for, Theron?”

“You won’t believe me if I told you,” he replied. “You’ll have to meet her for yourself and see.”

Jasme gave her brother a stern look. “Theron. You’re making me nervous.”

“I’m nervous myself.”

“That is not reassuring!”

The doorbell chimed and Theron responded “Come on in!”

A cowled figure walked in through the door, looking around curiously. They lowered their hood, revealing a pale woman’s face. “Is he already gone? Damn. I hoped to meet him first.”

Jasme swallowed a loud gasp.

A Sith! It was like her worst fears were confirmed!

*

Chapter Text

Manaan

It was true. A Sith stood in the doorway, wearing dark green robes and a polite smile.

 “Theron...” Jasme whispered, shrinking towards her twin.

“Come now, surely I’m not that intimidating?” The Sith tried to make her smile look a little friendlier. “My name is Lana Beniko.”

“I’m Theron Shan,” Theron waved at her. “And this is Jasme. Archivist and Archaeologist of the Jedi Order. Welcome to our safehouse, Lord Beniko.”

“Just ‘Lana’ is fine, thank you. And did I hear right?” the Sith looked over at Jasme with renewed interest. “You’re a fellow bibliophile?”

“I’m not a ‘fellow’ anything,” Jasme said, trying to project some steel in her voice.

Lana’s smile faded. She bowed. “My apologies. I understand this is unsettling.”

“Unsettling?” Jasme asked shrilly. “I’d call it that and more. Not one month ago, I was almost killed when Sith invaded the Jedi Temple on Tython. By sheer luck, I survived; but there were hundreds who didn’t. Many were children.”

Lana sighed. “I read the reports. And I’m sorry. But may I point out, that many of these ‘children’ were Padawans wielding Lightsabers and attacking soldiers. Of the eight hundred or so non-combatant children, only three died. In all, fewer than two hundred non-combatants were killed on Tython. Compare that to the strike on Korriban, where Republic soldiers killed a hundred and fifty-three children and over six hundred support staff and slaves.”

Jasme felt the fury rise.

“Jasme, stop!” Theron told her as she pulled out her Lightsaber.

“How dare you,” she seethed. “How dare you compare Korriban to Tython! We didn’t ask for this war you know! You Sith appeared out of nowhere and just took everything over! You bombed Coruscant during a peace conference! You—”

“And the wonderful men responsible for all that are dead,” the Sith cut in. “Darth Angral is dead. Darth Vengean is dead. Darth Baras is dead. Darth Vindican is dead. Darth Malgus is dead. Moff Kilran is dead. And the Emperor himself is dead. The rest of us merely inherited that war, and are trying to do our best to not end up the losers.”

Jasme’s outrage was somewhat matched by her renewed pride she felt for Vajra, who was responsible for most of those kills.

“Now if you’re done trying to start another battle right here and now, perhaps you could listen to me?” The Sith warily eyed her, and Jasme realized that her Lightsaber was ignited, and its blade inches from her gut. She felt herself reluctantly impressed with the woman for neither showing any fear, nor moving to retaliate.

“Jasme, please,” Theron said. He held her shoulder gently. “We need her.”

“And I need you,” the Sith added. “Believe it or not, the Empire and Republic may both need each other.”

Jasme had already holstered her saber. “Look, whatever.”

“No, I mean it,” Theron insisted. “Remember what I said, that someone arranged for both attacks to take place simultaneously? That means there’s a third party involved.”

“I remember all that.”

“If we want these people neutralized, we need to expose them. All of them, at the same time. Including the Imperial collaborators. We also need to know their plans and movements. Lana has a lot of contacts on that side.”

“The Revanites are responsible for the attacks, more so than the Republic or the Empire,” the Sith said. “If not for them, such a thing wouldn’t even be possible. And who knows what they might do next?”

That was enough. “No. I understand. I’m sorry for snapping, I’m just...” she trailed off. She was feeling so cold she was shivering. She hugged herself to ward it off. The Sith was all smiles again.

“It’s alright,” she said. “It’s a natural response to have. I am sorry again, for what you have endured. And I’m sorry for my part in it.”

“Can we start this again? My name is Jasme.” The archaeologist extended an uncertain hand, which the Sith readily took in both of hers.

“And I am Lana Beniko. Former advisor to Darth Arkous. ‘Former’ in my mind, at least. I still hold the title officially.”

“Any relation to the Benikos? The family of hoteliers?”

“Not too closely, I’m afraid. I have met them several times, however.” She suddenly seemed to remember something. “Come to think of it, I received a request from them, several years ago. They wanted my help looking for someone. It was you, wasn’t it? Yes, I remember now! I’m glad you were found!”

“Thank you for that.” That raised Jasme’s eyebrows. If that was true, she owed this woman a big favor.

Jasme took her first real look at the Sith, looking past the scary image she naturally superimposed over her kind. And she was a little unnerved by how ordinary she looked... and yet not. She looked just as human as herself or Theron, but something unidentifiable set her apart from them.

She was a young woman, perhaps her own age, with pale features. Although she had full cheeks, her cheekbones were still prominently visible. Her lips were small but heart-shaped. Her shoulder-length, slightly messy blond hair was styled to frame her jaw like a crab’s claws. Her heavily lidded eyes were yellow—a mark of her constant use of the Dark Side—and rimmed with red, as was the tip of her prominent nose.

Overall, she gave the impression of a tired young workaholic.

But looking at her again, Jasme could not deny that she looked striking. Her gaze was one that held others’. She gave off the unmistakable aura of someone who you wanted to pay attention to. And her voice... it was soft and sultry, yet clear. And powerful. She had never raised her voice once, yet Jasme had clearly heard all of what she had said.

She’s... a bit like Mom, actually! Jasme thought with a slightly disconcerted stomach flip.

“But… I get the distinct feeling I’ve read about you somewhere else, too…” she paused to think. “Jasme, Jasme... Jasme…” Lana’s eyes suddenly zeroed back in on hers. “You know what? I think I recognize that name from a few journals! I may have read a few of your papers!”

“Excuse me?”

“That’s right,” she said, nodding. “The paper on the Nytalid folktales, the Telluvar glyphs, the Holbatiri city... and your description of the Eldevarid dig site. It was very well written. I loved your way of describing things, really made me picture the places, both as dig sites and the urban centres they once were. I don’t suppose I can get your autograph?”

“My—my what now?” Her autograph!? That’s what the Sith had said, but she laboured to believe it. “I—uh, I’m sorry. Rare for me to meet someone who’s read my work outside of conferences.”

Lana laughed. “I have subscriptions to several magazines on history and archaeology. My last girlfriend hated it though. Claimed I spent too much of my free time reading, not enough on her.”

“Is that why you speak about her in the past tense?” Jasme asked.

“Right. I was a little sad about it though. And I thought my home was lonely before the breakup. Sadly, I’m not the best at hooking up.”

“Well if you’ve had one partner, that’s one more than what my brother here has had,” Jasme smiled.

“I suppose I need to follow his example too,” Lana tapped her chin. “Marry myself to my work.”

“See?” Theron said. “She gets it. Or wants to. Besides, you’ve only dated one person yourself.”

“Two. And I’m different,” Jasme insisted. “I don’t feel lonely. You do. I’ve seen you look at couples. Seriously Theron, one day you’re gonna wake up one day and wish there was a special someone sharing your bed with you.”

“I can worry about that after the Revanites are dealt with.”

“There will always be others to deal with.” Jasme looked unhappy but backed down. “You’ve used that name before. The ‘Revanites’?”

“Their formal name is the ‘Order of Revan’,” Lana explained. “They’re a secret society who—”

At that moment Theron’s comm rang again.

“Theron, do you read me? It’s Vajra here. I’m almost at the door. I’ll be ready for my special tour in a few minutes.”

“I think you should take that,” Lana suggested. “I’ll bring Jasme up to speed.”

“You can do that later, since you also have to tell Vajra. No need to do it twice. Let’s help Theron look through the data instead.”

“As you wish.” She pulled a datapad out of a pouch. “Although I doubt you really need it, I managed to acquire schematics for the lab...”

“I got them too,” Theron nodded. “But maybe comparing them won’t be too bad an idea.”

“Yes...” Lana scanned Theron’s data quickly. “I think the only real difference is that I’ve marked out locations I sense a strong Force presence from. And Rakata tech. I also have a list of things confirmed missing from the Korriban vaults.”

“And I have the ones for Tython,” Theron said with satisfaction.

“I can look through them for you,” Jasme offered. “Don’t know what I can find, but...”

“That’s a good idea actually,” Lana said. She pressed a button which began transferring data to a projector beside Theron.

“My data is already loaded,” Theron said.

“Are you technically allowed to share this data with us?” Jasme asked Lana, who sheepishly shook her head.

“Most of it is secret. Although I am sharing for the good of the mission, I suspect Darth Nox would have a fit if he finds out.”

“I heard he was quite the loose cannon,” Theron commented. “Prone to reckless, and oftentimes ridiculous actions.”

“That reputation is... misleading,” Lana giggled. Jasme giggled along, not having expected it. “A lot of his... ‘reckless and ridiculous actions’ was him having his hand forced. He’s a survivor, first and foremost. He was constantly under attack by powerful Sith, and resorted to drastic measures to keep his head attached. And honestly, looking through his files, I don’t think anything less would have worked. But he was responsible for exaggerating it all out of his own... sense of humor. And, perhaps, to use that reputation as the first line of defense. That said, he’s quite serious when it comes to his duties.”

“Right... the Pyramid of Ancient Knowledge, if I recall.”

“That’s right. And he’s well suited for the task. He’s good at uncovering old secrets and inventing a few of his own. And he is a sponge for rituals, meticulous in learning, recording, and executing them. His power is frightening. And he’s a jealous protector of his domain.”

“That actually sounds like some Jedi I know,” Jasme reflected. “Master Devel, for instance.”

“Ye, I’ve heard his reputation. He was one of those I looked into as a possible Revanite. I couldn’t tell either way.”

“You cleared Vajra though?”

“Yes. I concluded that the Revanites were not approaching people with... issues. Besides which, Vajra has not been very active in either politics or war since Ilum, something the Revanites have been very focused on. I did consider the possibility he was a sleeper agent, but he’s not the best at lying, is he?”

“No,” Jasme burst into laughter. “He sucks at it. Hey! Look at this! I think this artifact is built around something else... something of Rakatan origin. Do you see this part embedded inside?” She pointed out what she meant to Lana. “This is a device common among the Rakata. It functions as a catalyst, usually for channeling the Dark Side into someone or something.”

Lana leaned in eagerly. “Really?

“Alright hold on, need to talk to Vajra.”

*

Jasme found that Lana was fairly pleasant company, though a little reserved. She worked as hard as her idjit brother too (her twin, not her adopted one), and planned ahead where possible. It was this trait that allowed her to save Vajra and his new friend from certain doom less than an hour later.

The Wookie was particularly thankful, running up to Lana and holding her in a tight hug that may have crushed a bone or two if Lana hadn’t used the Force to reinforce her bones. Despite that, she still had to tap out. His charge was so strong, he full-body-tackled Lana before Jasme got to Vajra.

“You’re most welcome, my eager new friend,” she choked. “But please, loosen your grip… My head’s about to pop right off!”

The Wookie obliged, but didn’t put her down.

“My Master, the mighty Jakarro, wishes to thank you for the timely rescue,” the Droid head C2-D4 reported. It adorned the Wookie’s chest like a pendant. It was somewhat muffled, squashed as it was between its master and the Sith Lord.

“No, don’t mention it. Put me down please. On second thought, I think you broke my back!”

Vajra caught her, smiling wide. “I agree with Jakarro. You cut quite the heroic figure! Thank you so much for saving my life, my Lord.”

“Just ‘Lana’ is fine,” she replied. She was smiling as well, and appeared both self-conscious and pleased with his help. She was clearly torn between accepting his help, and assuring him she was better now. It was evident which half won when she leaned against Vajra. “Damn, that was a little hard on the body. They don’t teach you to be gentle in Wookiee school, do they?”

Jakarro roared abashedly.

“it’s alright, no permanent harm done. I think.”

“Here you go,” Vajra said, softly depositing her on the chair before hugging Jasme.

“Much obliged, Master Jedi.”

“Have we met before? Your voice sounds familiar. So does your presence in the Force.”

“We may have crossed paths, but this is the first time we’re face-to face,” Lana replied. “And it’s quite an honor. As you might imagine, you’re quite famous among my order. ‘Crown Reaper.’ My name is Lana Beniko.”

Vajra’s head turned at the name. “Did you say ‘Beniko’?”

“Yes, I’m related to them,” she nodded. “In fact, I was the one who passed on their little job to Cipher Nine. I remembered when I met Jasme.”

“You know Cipher Nine as well?”

“No one knows where she is right now,” Lana said, appearing frustrated. “All evidence seems to suggest that she died of her wounds. Shame. We could use her expertise, right about now.”

Jasme looked at Vajra, quite aware of his friendship with the spy, but his concern seemed feigned at best. Perhaps he was still somewhat in contact with her. She’d have to ask him later, though she didn’t expect an honest response. Nine was one of the few things he was cagey about with her.

“You said you know me, but allow me to introduce myself anyway. Vajra Devarath. I’m Jasme’s other brother.”

Jasme felt touched by that introduction. It ignored his many titles and epithets, not to mention accomplishments and skills. But knowing him, he wasn’t trying to be funny. ‘Jasme’s brother’ was probably something he was proudest of. She gave him another hug. “He’s a charmer, isn’t he?”

“Definitely,” Lana grinned.

“And this is T7-O1, honorary Jedi. ‘Master’ T7 is fine too.”

<Master T7 = prefers ‘Just T7.’ T7 = keeping low profile.>

Lana burst into laughter at that. “It’s a pleasure to meet you too.”

“Jakarro, D4, meet my sister Jasme, and her twin brother Theron,” Vajra told the Wookiee. “Perhaps my brother too, someday soon.”

Theron smiled at that. He offered a hand for the Wookiee to shake. “Theron Shan. SIS. I think we’ll be working together for a while, if you want to settle the score with Darrok.”

Jakarro roared his enthusiasm.

“I’m an archivist,” Jasme said. “I’m just here to provide moral support.”

“A pleasure to meet you all!” the Droid head said self-importantly. “The Mighty Jakarro is a fearsome—”

“We heard it over the comm,” Theron interrupted him. “All of it.”

Now that the danger and introductions were over, Vajra went through the events of the past hour in his head. “Theron, Lana… we need to talk about Arkous and Darrok. Those two couldn’t have been more in cahoots if they were conjoined twins.”

“I know,” Lana said, becoming grim. “That’s why I’m here, actually. I followed his trail to Manaan, same as Theron did Darrok’s. Arkous deceived me. Or ‘us,’ I should say. The Empire.”

Theron nodded. “What I suspected—and Lana too—was true. Both Arkous and Darrok, working for a cult called the Order of Revan, engineered the simultaneous attacks to steal certain relics and artifacts from both libraries. They focused on Rakatan ones.”

“About that prototype super soldier,” Vajra said. “That thing was tough. An army of those would be nightmarish shock troops. This Order of Revan could quickly become a new power in the galaxy if that's what they wanted. On that subject, do we know what it is they do want?"

"No, not yet," Lana responded. "The Order of Revan used to be an almost philosophical, scholarly little bunch. They didn’t even help each other climb political ladders. I actually used to like their ideology back then; it was simple. Pragmatic. But we had no idea they were this widespread—it still surprises me the depth of its power and influence."

"Why did they worship Revan anyway?"

"They believed that their leader had found proof that Revan defeated the Emperor centuries ago but was weakened and captured by the then Dark Council. That his power had come from following a balanced path- one in equal parts Light and Dark. They wished to find and study what they could of his teachings, though it was never about control for them, just knowledge. They were content to exist as a secret society. Their new Avatar though—we don't even know when they became what they did..."

Silence descended upon them, as the sun sank below the horizon.

"But enough about that for now," Lana said, lightening up a little. “We have to thank our stars that they didn’t get too many of the relics they’d been eying in the Jedi Temple.” The Sith shook her head in admiration. “One hour! You sent us packing in one hour! Tiarna Rooks needed more than twelve, even with her Legion—”

“To be fair, Korriban Academy is more of a fortress than the Jedi Temple on Tython.”

“I appreciate that, Theron. But that doesn’t change facts: they failed their objective thanks to his speed. Also, I’m bloody impressed.”

“That’s me, accomplishing my life’s mission. Impressing the galaxy, one sentient at a time.”

Lana laughed, covering her mouth behind a hand.

“Are you sure you’re only distantly related to the Benikos?” Vajra asked, looking at her closely. “You look just like Kelsa, when you laugh like tha—wait. Sorry. It’s none of my business.”

“We have more pressing matters to attend, anyway.”

“That’s right. We need to talk about Darrok and Arkous—”

“No, we need to celebrate your safe return. And a successful mission. I’ve already reserved a private resort about an hour away from here, and ordered us a big meal. Extra-large for you.” Her eyes narrowed. “Forgive me for unleashing my inner Sith for a moment, Vajra. But I can’t overlook how unhealthy you seem to be. You’re getting some quality nourishment today, if I have to force it down your protesting throat. Furthermore, I’m going to enlist T7 here to ensure that you stick to the diet plan I draw up for you. I can’t heal your mind, but I can help you with your body. And I will. Consider it my thanks for saving my parents, and killing the Emperor.”

Jasme had to laugh hard at that, and Vajra’s shocked reaction. She was starting to like this Sith.

*

Chapter Text

It seemed Lana really had planned for a big party. The estate was a place normally rented out to executive vacations. There was a swimming pool, a karaoke, several courts for various sports, an arcade-style dance floor, and of course, much delicious food.

“You made us lunch?” Theron asked. “Yourself?”

“It’s just a quick stir fry; nothing too spectacular!”

The smell was enough for Vajra. He recited a soft prayer and dug right in.

“Aren’t you worried she’s poisoned it?” Theron asked amusedly. “She being a Sith, you one of the most prominent Jedi…?”

“She saved my life. She could’ve just let me die, if she wanted me gone.”

“True.”

Lana waited until Theron, Jasme, and Jakarro had their first bites. “Besides, Raudra are immune to the toxins I used,” she said.

Theron reflexively spat out his food while Jasme just… put down her fork. Vajra took a look at Lana’s face and they both burst into laughter.

“The looks on your faces!” Lana cried.

“Not funny!”

“Au contraire, Agent Shan!” she wheezed. “After suggesting that I might poison you, that’s the least you deserve.”

“It was pretty funny,” Jasme said, chuckling weakly.

“But never mind that, do you like the food? It’s my first time cooking for someone else in months!”

“It’s delicious,” Vajra said, putting down his plate.

Lana eyed him coolly. “You say that, but you only ate one piece. Here, you can have mine.” She moved closer to him and pushed her skewer in front of his lips. “Come on now. Say ‘ah!’”

“Aaaaaah,” Vajra said unenthusiastically.

“Not nice. You’ll offend the chef with that attitude. Once again, with some real feeling!”

“There’s something I never thought I’d see,” Jasme grinned. A Sith was feeding the most famous Jedi of the era like they were lifelong friends. “Let me know if you want me to hold him down for you.”

“There’s no need. He’s a good boy. Aren’t you, Vajra? You’re almost done with this plate. I’ve got two more for you, then some nice fruit punch. Don’t be shy.”

“And my sister wonders why I don’t want a partner,” Theron muttered.

Jakarro barked in agreement, while T7 just giggled.

*

The day was spent relaxing, unwinding, and partying.

The next day, it was time for business again, and Jasme had some with the Sith.

"So, you were the one who planned the Assault on Tython?" Jasme demanded.

"Yes, I was. And I do humbly apologize in the part I played."

It was just after breakfast, and it was 0800.

"The part you played?" Jasme demanded hotly, advancing on Lana until they were nose to nose; Lana wore an expression of regret but did not back down. Nor did she lower her eyes. "I watched dozens of good people get cut down in front of me! Then that Chagrian Sith started killing Padawans! And that illusion which Darth Nox placed on me…” She shuddered.

“What illusion was this?” Vajra asked, alert.

But Jasme shook her head. “The worst moment of my life, on repeat. With emotions heightened.” She didn’t continue. But the fear was undeniable.

Vajra was at her side in an instant. “It’s okay, Jasme. I’m here.”

“Thanks, little Brother. But this is between me and her.”

"We are on opposite sides of war," Lana said hesitantly. "Both sides have done horrible things to each other. And I wish it wasn't so. And I know that I wouldn’t even be apologizing if we weren’t face-to-face like this. If we didn’t need to work together to stop a force that threatens the both of us. Which is why I understand if you will never be able to like me, or even forgive me. But for now, please allow me to work with you."

Jasme glared heavily at her, her face still only inches away from Lana’s. Whatever she saw in in the Sith’s yellow eyes seemed to be enough for her.

"Oh, don't you go worrying about that, Lana. I trust my brother, and he’s willing to trust you. Heck, I think I can trust you too even if just a little, since you saved Vajra. But I did need to get that out. That was such a terrible day for me. It will haunt me for some time, and if we're working together despite your involvement, you must know what I’m going through."

"Thank you, Miss Shan." Lana said, finally retreating, dipping her head in a formal bow.

“Call me Jasme.”

“You called her ‘Miss Shan,’” Theron noted.

“Shouldn’t I have? Isn’t she your twin sister?”

“Well… yes.” Theron looked uncomfortable.

Lana seemed to understand. “Before we continue, I think I’d like to make a pact with all of you. Anything you all share with me, stays with me. I won’t take this intel back to the Empire. Although… I suppose you have no way of knowing I’ll stick to that, do you?”

“No,” Vajra confessed. “But we need to start somewhere.”

“And I already know one compromising secret of yours. Perhaps, I should reveal one of mine, to even the playing field. My parents really are Jaren and Kelsa Beniko. The reason I claimed we were distant was because I’ve not had the pleasure of meeting them in nearly twenty years. For their own safety, since Sith politics is prone to causing collateral damage. Brief exchanges two or three times a year are all I’ve had the courage for.”

So, she is their daughter, Vajra thought. Maybe that’s why she seems so familiar. But that didn’t account for her voice and presence. Was it something from his vision on Voss? The details had slipped out of his mind, as if wiped away by an external hand. Perhaps he’d Seen Lana in one of those.

“I—I’m sorry to hear that,” Jasme said, looking at Theron. He flinched, after which she did too, clearly not having intended it as an accusation.

“I ignored my family for years,” Theron explained. “I was… upset with my Mom for abandoning us. And with Jasme for staying behind. Despite that.”

“It’s forgiven,” Jasme said, kissing her twin on the head. She was a good ten centimeters taller than him. “I’m sorry, Theron. Please don’t feel guilty about that anymore.”

“As for my secret—” Vajra began, but all three shot him down.

“It’s alright, Vajra. There’s very little you can tell me which I don’t already know. Your file is quite thorough.”

“Cipher Nine?” Jasme asked.

Lana looked away. “Yes.”

Jasme looked furious, but Vajra tried to calm her down. “Nine is something of a hero of mine,” Vajra admitted. “You know how she tracked down Jasme for me, but I don’t know if you heard about that time she helped me save a child. And she didn’t have to.” He wished he could admit what really happened, but that might harm her later. This was her own half-truth, anyway.

“I see!” Lana’s lips twitched in a smile. “Strange to see the galaxy’s greatest warrior refer to an enemy spy as his hero.”

“The details are a secret.”

“But I’m sure Nine will tell you everything if you ask her,” Jasme said.

“She did what she had to do, and some stuff she didn’t.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means nothing in this galaxy can make me hate her,” Vajra replied. “Or even hurt my opinion of her.”

Jasme’s eyebrows went up. “Wow. I had no idea you liked her so much.”

“Cipher Nine was a complicated woman,” Lana revealed. “But perhaps the most terrible secret about her was her brainwashing. After she outplayed Darth Jadus, some of the Council insisted upon the need to leash her. They conditioned her so that she would shut down and enter a hypnotized sleep-state whenever someone used her keywords. She wasn’t capable of holding back secrets—or disobeying commands—from those who knew those words. The Star Cabal and SIS both got their hands on it, so they were all able to yank her around like a hapless duckling on a chain. Eventually, the three-way pulls just… left her damaged.”

“I—I see.” Jasme looked horrified. “That’s terrible!”

Theron sighed. “The Castellan Restraints. I heard about it. I tracked down two SIS agents she’d worked with—it’s complicated—and they told me everything they knew about it. It made me pity her.”

“She broke free, in the end,” Vajra said. “Yes, I knew about it. She told me.”

Lana raised her eyebrows, but nodded. “It was a development that marked her for death. But by the time the Council heard about it, it was already too late. She’d disappeared.”

It was Theron that broke the contemplative silence. “Come on. Let’s return to the task at hand.”

“Yes. The Revanites. We need to figure out what they’re planning.”

<T7 = has been searching files recovered from lab. Results = mixed. T7 = found list of suppliers.>

“Are they Revanites?” Lana asked.

<Likelihood <  0.05%. T7 = cross referenced names with Temple database. Subjects classification = ‘shifty’>

“They’re independent merchants and spacers then,” Theron concluded. “Just like Jakarro.”

“Did you find anything else of notice?”

<Revanites = acquiring much Rakata tech.>

“If that’s the case, why don’t we start at Rakata Prime?” Jasme suggested. “I’m pretty sure the Foundry was completely wrecked, but the Star Forge was not destroyed like it was. The Republic fleet just knocked out its generators and repulsorlifts. They figured gravity and atmosphere could do the rest. A lot of the tech fell to the surface, and though the Jedi Order did its best to reclaim or destroy a lot of it, I’m sure more remains down there. It was a major world of the Infinite Empire, after all.”

“A really great point, actually,” Lana said.

“There was also a facility we discovered on Tatooine,” Vajra said. “A Czerka lab which dug up something Rakatan, which was capable of destroying an entire planet. Last I heard, the excavation was still in progress. The Revanites might be keeping an eye on it. Oh, then there’s Belsavis. I could ask Kira to look into Tatooine, while I look at the latter.”

“I’m not sure that’s wise,” Lana said reluctantly. “I haven’t been able to clear her—”

“I can trust her,” Vajra insisted. “She’s incorruptible.”

“I think so too,” Jasme concurred.

A ghost of a smile played on Lana’s lips. “Well… we can’t go fully paranoid, I suppose.”

“Do you have anybody you can trust?”

“I’m afraid not.” Lana looked sad at having to admit that. “I’ve spent my life in either Sith or Intelligence circles. You can never fully trust anyone in such associations.”

Vajra had a vivid recollection of Cipher Nine telling him much the same.

“It’s strange,” she continued. “Two of them know one of my deepest, most potentially damaging secrets. But I can’t trust them with this. Yet.”

“Look at it this way,” Vajra said, searching for anything to reduce the gloom. “If Arkous doesn’t rub these secrets in your nose, you’ll know they were trustworthy.”

“That’s a bright spot, I suppose. What about you, Jasme and Theron? Anyone you can trust?”

“Mom,” they both said at once. The Jedi and the Sith both chuckled.

“So I guess this is the plan, for now,” Lana summarized. “Vajra meets with Kira, tells her what happened, and ask her to visit Tatooine. It’s better in person, to avoid the risks of intercepted communication. In the meantime, the rest of us will head over to Rakata Prime. We’ll set up a base camp and conduct preliminary reconnaissance.”

“Sounds like a plan to me.”

“And T7? This is the plan I mentioned earlier. Let me know if Vajra doesn’t stick to it. I’ll set him straight.”

“You really don’t need to—”

“Don’t I?” A bite of impatience pinched Lana’s eyebrows together. “Don’t think I didn’t notice your behavior last night. Your bed wasn’t slept in, and T7 reported you spent most of the night training. The only food you ate was what I made you. Even with our recuperative trances, we Force wielders still need a minimum of three hours of sleep every week, and you look like you've neither used the trance nor a bed in months! You're being very hard on your own body! When was the last time you looked into a mirror? You're so drastically malnourished, that your cheekbones have long since left behind that divide between attractive and gaunt, and into the realm of skeletal. I know you must have suffered unimaginable horrors while facing the Emperor, but I cannot help but worry about you. I wager you get dizzy many times a day, just like you are now.”

“I agree wholeheartedly,” Jasme said, nodding furiously. “I gotta ask though. Why?”

Lana suddenly looked down. Vajra thought she hadn’t expected the question. “I feel indebted to him,” she said at last. “Like I said, he saved my parents. And he saved the galaxy. Suffice to say, I wish him the best. Why are you looking at me like that?”

Jasme was giving her a very knowing look. “It’s alright, a lot of us have celebrity crushes. You won’t believe how many Padawans and soldiers send Grand Master Shan love letters.”

“What!?” Lana grew red and flustered. “Celebrity crush? Celebrity crush!? Despite how I look, I’m a Dark Lord of the Sith! Korriban beat the frivolity out of me! Are you looking for me to stop worrying about—” she sighed. “You know what? Fine. Let’s call it that, but I only wish it was that simple.”

“I believe you,” Theron said. “Feelings are complicated.”

“Aren’t they?” Lana nodded furiously. “So messy and conflicting and contradictory!”

“And I’m not a celebrity one has a crush on,” Vajra interjected. “How can you compare me to Master Satele? She’ll probably look pristine and have the bearing of a priestess-queen when she’s a thousand years old!”

“While that is true—”

“And I’ve not gotten much attention of that kind at all,” he added. “I think I lack a certain quality—”

“No, you’re a charmer,” Jasme shook her head firmly. Her fingers playfully held his lips shut.

“Regardless, my point stands. Please look after yourself. Or accept help from someone else when they try to do so.”

Vajra gave Lana a trapped look. “Alright.”

“You were right,” Jasme smiled. “He’s a good boy.”

*

Kala’din, Ryloth

Kira Carsen was glad that her former Master was so time-conscious. She hated waiting, and many of the people she’d worked with over the years gave her a rough timeframe for when they might arrive. They would fail to take Hyperspace travel, landing, or local travel times into account.

There was this one memorable time she’d waited for nearly nine hours before her contact arrived.

Vajra, though? He usually knew how to take such things into account. She normally only needed to wait thirty to forty minutes for him, though there were also times when he got there before her.

‘There,’ was a spacious café on the riverbank called the Lilac Bakes. Kira had chosen it after Seraphim had brought her here for a date. She’d loved their hazelnut pastries, chocolates, and coffee, and wanted her friend to sample the heavenly goodies. Maybe it would inspire him to fill up his belly for once.

He was starving himself to death, and T7’s communique had admitted that he felt faint several times a week more than he used to.

Vajra arrived a mere ten minutes after she had, pulling her out of her reverie. She waved at him delightedly, and he jogged over to her and gave her a very happy hug.

She returned it with equal relief. “Hey, you!”

“Hey yourself.”

“Cmon. I’ve got us a table with a view. And some privacy.”

“The best combination!”

“You said it, Boss.”

“How are the wedding preparations going?”

“Not too smoothly,” Kira admitted. “Seraphim has been getting some backlash from his family. I don’t want to be the reason they split.”

He’d been allowed to maintain contact with his family, and even keep a few of his titles, since he was the only one of them who could further the Tyra Novo royal family line. His sister, the heir-apparent, had a frail constitution.

But that had its downsides: his uncles, aunts, and cousins wanted him to pick from a list of candidates they approved of. Kira came from unknown (to them) origin. And while she was a Jedi, she wasn’t of noble origin.

“What does Raph want?”

“He wants me. He’d give up his rights for me. But that would make things harder for other reasons.”

“Right. The Order.”

“Yeah. Satele might be willing to let me off the hook, but I don’t want to bother her. She’s got so much going on, especially with the reconstruction. Say, have you talked to her recently?”

“Every week… though I think that’s about to change.”

“What do you mean?”

“I want to bring you in on a conspiracy hunt that Theron brought me in on. I need your help with something.”

She squeezed his hand and grinned tight. “Name it!”

*

Chapter Text

Tatooine

“Twin suns. Even with night coming, it’s still such a riot.”

This was Kira’s third time—or was it fourth? —on Tatooine, and of course she wasn’t used to this extreme heat yet.

It was a shame she couldn’t bring Seraphim. He was embroiled in another round of political marriage talks. It had to be much worse than she’d initially thought, if he couldn’t make it for a mission with her.

She’d parked her Defender—called the ‘Secret Saint’ like Master Satele had suggested—as close as she’d dared to the dig site. She was using the gaffi stick the Sand People had given her nearly seven years ago, with the hope that it would gain her some consideration from any she met along the way. And there were several herds of banthas around, meaning the Tuskens were nearby as well.

Kira scanned the dig site through her binoculars. It was being dug up by a small crew, which was why it had taken this long to get to it. On closer inspection, she found Master Kaedan there.

I wonder if that means they’re almost ready for the grand reopening.

It was a shame she couldn’t just approach him with the news, but Vajra wasn’t certain who could be trusted. It was so ironic, given the number of times Master Kaedan had declared that she was untrustworthy. Or Vajra.

Kira waited for nightfall before approaching the site. She cloaked when she got close. Security was shoddy, perhaps owing to the fact that no one knew this facility’s location, now that Czerka was gone.

I wonder how Mister Kurthison is doing. I should look in on him. The boss would’ve looked in on him.  It was small gestures like that, which were Vajra’s hallmark, and which had endeared him to not just herself and Jasme, but most of the Masters, many Padawans, and many troops he’d served with. Kira didn’t have it in her to emulate him, but she did want to live up to his good name where possible. As the first graduate of Vajra’s Kindness Academy… no, that was tacky.

She found her thoughts moving onto Jasme as she finally stood before the entrance. Jasme was one of the most—no, scratch that, the most incredible person in the galaxy. So full of kindness, compassion, and generosity that she had her own orbit. Entire star systems seemed to revolve around her. Kira wanted to do a decent job of recording this place, so that Jasme would thank her the next time they met.

How would she go about documenting this place? Kira did not want to linger too long here, but she wanted to do her friend proud by doing her best to respect the knowledge to be gained here. It was a good thing she’d brought drones with her, seven of them. Depending on how big the facility was, she should be done in a few hours. She set the little buzzers free and found a tall relic to study. The language at the base was High Rakatan, a language not in her implant’s library, so she didn’t understand any of it. Instead, she studied the relic itself; an obelisk about three and a half meters tall.

From her experience on Belsavis, she knew this was the central processor and projector.

If only she could activate it…

A hologram materialized and began speaking in an authoritative voice.

“Sorry. I don’t understand Rakata. Your people went extinct millennia ago.”

It tried again, and grew obviously upset when she didn’t hearken to obey. Two machines in opposite sides opened and cyborgs started to pour out. Undead cyborgs, from the looks of things. Igniting her double-bladed Lightsaber, Kira got to work dismantling them.

*

Jedi Master Jaric Kaedan entered the facility at dawn. He wasn’t pleased to see that everything was destroyed. Well… he was going to do this anyway, but he wanted to study it first! Who knew what you could learn from a place like this? Perhaps it might even have star maps to a different facility on a different world.

“Someone’s going to pay for this,” he muttered. Still, he couldn’t help but be impressed. Someone had gone through great trouble to ensure that every single piece of tech in this cave had been turned into a melted, burned-out piece of slag. Nothing here could be taken apart for more pieces, not the central computer, nor the machinery in the corners of the facility, not the foci that could be used to amplify their power—and those of their constructs, nor the cyborgs lying dead all over the place. Absolute destruction. With a Lightsaber, of course.

How had a Sith managed to get by him? He didn’t know. He had a lot to learn, even today.

*

Beside Master Jaric Kaedan, Master Obai was even more displeased with how his expedition had ended, especially since the cyborgs and the tools to create them were exactly what he’d come here hoping to find.

Unfortunately, there was no salvaging any of this. It was a shame. Tech from this facility would have allowed the Infinite Army to muster nearly a hundred times faster, almost as quickly as the Foundry.

It had to have been a Sith that had come here, hoping to deny the Jedi a prize like this. Not that the Jedi Council had the strength to use it. They would’ve just recorded it. No, the biggest losers in this were the Revanites. He had to report back to them as quickly as possible.

*

Belsavis

K’ilika Helm waited for the Jedi she’d been told to escort to finish his inspection.

Module after module of slag that had once been prisons for Esh-Kha and other horrors that even the Rakata feared. The cells themselves had been built with advanced technology—electrical and electronic systems quite different from current ones. There were entire labs full of weapons the Rakata had created, which were being studied and replicated.

All of it had been destroyed during the fighting two years ago. And that wasn’t what the Jedi was upset about. No, he was upset about the extinction of the Esh-Kha. The Genocide was near-total. The Jedi had wanted a permanent solution, one which didn’t involve trapping these poor souls away for eternity. But then, they had been exterminated by Imperial and Republic troops, who had been frightened silly by a small demonstration of their ferocity. It looked like word hadn’t gotten back to the Council yet. The information embargo that the planet worked under, worked both ways.

She understood his feelings, to a degree. She was a former Jedi, after all.

“I’m sorry about this, Master Jedi,” she said. “Hard to see death as anything but a tragedy, for one of your kind.”

“Don’t you mean ‘one of our kind’? You’re a Jedi too.”

“Not anymore, Master Jedi. I was stripped of my rank and imprisoned after I went rogue.”

“Really?”

“It does happen, if your crimes are great enough. And if redemption is not worth the risk. I was taken in by a Sith Lord’s putrid whispers. He convinced me that the Council was holding me back. Stopping me from doing what I had to. Instead, I betrayed everyone I’d ever known for a man who only saw me as a tool. I can still remember the look on my Master’s face.”

“Who was your Master?”

“Orgus. Orgus Din.”

“Really? He was my Master too!”

K’ilika gasped and beamed with surprise at the unexpected coincidence. “Really? How is he? Is he alright? Does he mention me at all?”

His face fell. “He died. Angral killed him on a live broadcast.”

“No…” K’ilika blinked. “No!” she tried again. “NOOOO!” Her knees began to tremble, but she was caught by her fellow ‘guard’ Tatiana.

“Easy there, Kili,” she whispered comfortingly, but K’ilika continued to sob.

“I’m sorry,” the Jedi said.

“You’re sorry?” she said. “You’re sorry!? Where—”

“No,” Tatiana said firmly, shaking her roughly. “It wasn’t his fault. It was Angral’s. Don’t go down that path.”

K’ilika continued to cry, though she saw the old pain in the alien’s eyes, right through his mask.

“What happened?” Tatiana asked in her stead. “How did he get caught by Angral?”

“He… Angral’s son, Tarnis, managed to steal the locations of several Top-Secret weapons projects. We each took on different objectives during that time, hoping to shut it down and destroy all records before Angral came. Master Orgus was captured sabotaging the one on Alderaan, and transferred to Angral’s ship, where he killed him on a live broadcast.”

“I know about Angral’s projects,” Tatiana said. “I—I was a defector. My father and his whole squad defected on Ord Mantell, and I chose to go with him. But because I wasn’t part of the plan, they sent me to Coruscant to help Tarnis get his components.”

“You were there for—”

“Yes. I was. That was the worst mistake I ever made. I got gunned down by Coruscant guards, but I survived. They shipped me off here, once they were done interrogating me. I volunteered to help when the Imps came. But they didn’t trust me with guns and knives. Or a stealth field generator. But who can blame them?”

K’ilika laughed bitterly. “Is Angral dead, at least? Did you make him pay for his crime?”

“He’s not dead. I destroyed his mind. Last time I saw him, he was reduced to a weeping, soiled mess. Begging his father not to hit him again. I made sure to broadcast that, too. The good Darths of the Empire were not pleased. They didn’t care about his defeat, but they didn’t want the galaxy to know one of their number could be reduced to such a pathetic state.”

“That wasn’t very Jedi of you,” K’ilika laughed humorlessly.

“I saw him launch his superweapon on the world I grew up on. Uphrades is gone. Everything was burned to a crisp.”

K’ilika stopped laughing. “He killed your home? And you saw it?”

“Yes. And I Felt it. The sound of seventeen million people crying out as they burned.”

She looked into his eyes, the only part of his face she could see. Her connection to the Force was limited by her shock collar, but she could Sense his pain. “I’m sorry.” She wiped away her tears on the edge of her sleeves.

“Thanks. Sorry I didn’t kill him.”

“It’s not the Jedi way.”

“Killing would’ve been better than what I did.”

“Why did the council forgive you?”

The alien sighed. “I don’t know. I guess it was gratitude. I got Angral right before he killed them. Tython was his next target after Uphrades.”

“Of course it was. He wanted to finish what he’d started on Coruscant.” K’ilika sighed. “I hope we get them back someday.”

“We kinda did. I led a raid on Dromund Kaas and killed the Emperor. And Master Satele destroyed an ancient Dark Temple of theirs by dropping a ship on it.”

“Wait… the EMPEROR IS DEAD!?!?” K’ilika started to feel faint again, but in a good way. “When was this? Why couldn’t I feel it?”

“A little over a year ago. Right after the mass jailbreaks here on Belsavis. And I’m surprised you didn’t. Most of the Galaxy did, including ungifted. Something must be interfering.”

“Damn. DAMN! We really need news over here!”

“I think that’s part of our punishment,” Tatiana said sadly. “Say, while you’re bringing us up to speed, maybe you could give me a few other pieces of news?”

“Depends. What do you need to know?”

“I need to know if two people are alright. Commander Harron Tavus and Lieutenant Roban Queens.”

“Tavus… the previous leader of Havoc Squad?” The Jedi put two and two together quickly. “He was your father? Yeah, I remember him. He tricked me into giving him a dangerous Imperial prisoner, a spy called Watcher One. Queens was not happy. But how was I supposed to know? Garza had gone and suppressed news of his defection!”

“Tavus said she’d do that. She’s quite the control freak, according  to him.”

“Tell me about it. I normally blame myself for every kitten stuck in a tree, but have no problem admitting this wasn’t my fault. I believe he and several other Havoc defectors are alive somewhere. Locked away in a prison more secure than Belsavis.”

“Fuck…”

“As for Roban Queens… yeah, he’s still alive and well. He’s a Major now, though he may have gotten promoted again since I last heard of him. Havoc Squad has been disbanded, but he’s in charge of a different squad now. He and I aren’t on good terms thanks to the Tavus incident, but I worked with him on Coruscant, Taris, Balmorra, Corellia, and Dromund Kaas. He’s a phenomenal soldier, but a little too eager to hold onto grudges.”

“Sounds like Ban, alright.”

“By the way, if you knew Master Orgus, you may have known Bengel Morr too,” the Jedi told K’ilika.

“Bengel! Yes, yes! I thought he died on Coruscant!”

“Even Master Orgus did. But he survived. He’s back with the Jedi now, as are the Padawans he protected and raised for five years. He’s a fine Knight now.”

K’ilika felt an enormous weight lift off her shoulder. “That’s wonderful. Did Orgus see him?”

“Yes, he did. Bengel carries his Lightsaber crystal.”

“It sounds like there’s more to that story.”

“They were all very haunted by what they saw. But they chose the Jedi way, in the end.”

“Good. Good. It’s much better than the alternative.”

“So about your tour…” Tatiana said reluctantly. “Does it end here? The Esh-Kha are all dead—”

“Not quite. They’re not why I’m here. I want to ensure that all Rakata tech still on this world gets locked away so deep, that even the Supreme Chancellor can’t get to it.”

“I think you’re lucky once again,” the scientist in the group said. “Most such tech got melted into slag. There are only a few designs remaining, and they’re all in Mega Security Ward’s Zesh complex.”

“I want to see this complex.”

“Yes, Master Jedi.”

*

It was another day in paradise for Doctor Rakob Holsen and his crew.

And that wasn’t hyperbole. There was no job in the galaxy quite like test-firing alien weapons from dawn to dusk, and working out ways to replicate it. Or reverse engineer the technology entirely, so that the Republic used Rakata tech as a norm. This kind of technology could turn the tide of the war forever. There was no other place anywhere which had such high concentrations of their tech.

But then they got word that someone had entered the facility. “It’s not Jedi, is it?” Mariette asked. “Those buggers are always getting in the way of our fun.”

“Tell me about it, it was a struggle just to save this much. They have to poke their noses everywhere. Put regs on everything. Belsavis is a treasure trove! This place was the center of cutting-edge research in the galaxy!”

“Yeah?” Miles Coop, the resident apologist piped up in annoyance. “What has Belsavis labs developed that has improved life in the Galaxy in any way, shape, or form? Have we made any weapons that the military uses? Any shields? Any medicines? Any food, for that matter? This facility has been up and running for decades, and we’ve got nothing to show for it! Nothing at all!”

“The Rakata created engines of destruction,” Doctor Gantrell said. “That is why the Jedi want to be notified of every relic that is found. If there’s a Jedi that’s come demanding to watch over this place, let them. That way, we won’t get carried away.” He had changed sides after getting saved by Jedi, though he claimed it was because of the doomsday device that had been found in the deep prison. A device that could destroy trillions of lives.

Before the argument could continue any further, their guests entered the building; a single hooded figure escorted by around twenty soldiers. “We have come for your samples,” she drawled. “Turn them over to us at once.”

“Now look here,” Doctor Holsen said angrily. “You can’t just waltz in and take everything without even declaring who you are, or showing us the proper paperwork—”

The figure drew her Lightsaber and activated the blade—the red blade. Holsen fell back with a yelp, and the security droids stepped forward to intercept the intruders.

“SIIIITH!” Gantrell cried and ran to the console.

“Kill everyone,” the Sith said with a sadistic grin. Her soldiers—cyborgs, Holsen now saw—began attacking with axes and pikes. Probably to avoid damaging their prize.

But before they could continue, another figure leapt into the fray; a masked Jedi with a blue-green blade. He was followed in by two women, a Togruta and a human, who wore prisoner’s uniforms, and fought unarmed.

The Togruta did quite well, breaking several cyborg’s bones before using a pike to elegantly fend off the others, but the human was tackled to the ground by her third enemy.

The Jedi rushed to her rescue, having slain dozens of cyborgs in seconds. He slew the ones the Togruta was holding off, next—for she seemed unable to kill them. They were healing each injury in seconds.

Once he was finished with the cyborgs, he turned to the Sith, who studied him disbelievingly and cried ‘REAPER!’ She attacked him with her red blade, but the Jedi avoided the blow and cut her longitudinally in half. She fell to the ground looking like she didn’t quite know what had happened.

“That was fast,” the Togruta said in amazement. Crisis averted, she dropped the weapons she’d borrowed and kicked them away, as if to show everyone she wasn’t a threat. Not that she looked afraid; not of the Jedi, in any case. “I guess Sith of this level are nothing once you kill the Emperor.”

“That’s right. You alright, Tatiana?”

“My ribs are probably bruised after that,” the human muttered. “I’m rusty. Back before I… these guys wouldn’t have come close!”

“Jedi Vajra? Jedi Vajra Devarath, is that you?” Gantrell ran up to their savior and wrung his arm in gratitude. “It’s really you! I’m Doctor Gantrell. You saved me the last time you were here too. You killed that Rancor!”

“I remember you. It’s good to see you again.”

“Why are you here, Jedi?”

“There’s a group of people out there stealing all the Rakata tech they can lay their hands on. I came here to ensure that they didn’t get anything from this vault.”

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” Holsen cried. “Thank you, Jedi!”

“Not so fast. We need a permanent solution to this problem.”

“Well…” All the scientists looked at each other.

“Who are these people?” Mariette wanted to know. “Can’t we just get better security? Or move our operations to a different vault? Maybe we could go off the grid?”

“Yes, you can do any or all of those,” the Jedi agreed. “But I can’t stay too long. You’ll be on your own after today.”

“Fuck this place anyway,” Miles shrugged. “All these toys, and we’ve not managed to learn anything substantial.”

“I’m not risking my life for another superweapon,” Gantrell agreed. “Can you take our notes for us? Ensure that they reach the Jedi Council?”

“I won’t be seeing the Council anytime soon, but okay.”

The lab was shut down and all samples and records deleted within an hour.

*

K’ilika shook Vajra’s hand as he prepared to leave. “It’s been nice meeting you,” she said. “Thanks for bringing me news about Master Orgus. And Bengel.”

“Who was the Sith?” Vajra asked. “The one who led you astray? Is he still out there?”

“Lord Rust? He was a Sith Pureblood who joined forces with me to kill a few weasels. He’s dead now. I killed him before surrendering to the Jedi.”

“I could see about your parole. Maybe your reinstatement.”

“I… I’d like that. But only if I can get Tatiana and a few other friends with me.”

“That’s probably not going to happen. I’m owed a few favors, but not that powerful.”

“I thought as much. Don’t worry about it. Just go out there and stop whatever’s going on.”

“I will. Thank you.”

Once he’d boarded his shuttle back to the orbital check-in station, Tatiana spoke up. “You sure about that? You could be stuck here a very long time.”

“Probably. But where would I go? The Jedi don’t like me anymore.”

“It’s a big galaxy. If you head over to Shili, look for a small farming village to settle down in, there’s no way they’re going to find you.”

“What about you? Don’t you want to leave?”

“Yes. Yes, I absolutely do. I made some mistakes, but…” she looked conflicted. “I got much worse than I deserved. Why should I be locked away for the rest of my life? Maybe I can get back to doing some good out there. And maybe I can slap my father in the face. I was in a bad place, and made a bad decision that he shouldn’t have encouraged.”

“Modest goals. But don’t count on it.”

“I was afraid you’d say that.”

*

Darth Arkous was not pleased, “So what you’re telling me, is that you failed to acquire either of the caches? The ones that were just, in your words, ‘ripe for the taking?’”

Jedi Knight Obai and Sith Lord Vodd both shifted uncomfortably.

“I hope you realize that we were counting on adding those resources to our coffers. The scrounging operation on Rakata Prime has not been as successful as we’d hoped! Parts are getting scarce!”

“Who got in your way?” Darrok asked.

“We don’t know,” Obai admitted. “The Tatooine facility was destroyed in the middle of the night. No one saw who went in or out. The location was supposed to be a secret.”

“And the team on Belsavis was wiped out,” Vodd added. “And all scientists disappeared. There’s no trail left to follow.”

“Ah have a contact who’s a Marshall,” a pink-haired human male said. “Ah could maybe ask ‘er who arrived and/or departed in the day before and after the raid. Can’t be a terribly long list.”

“A good idea,” Arkous smiled at the man. He was Force-blind, but held in the highest regard by their leader. One might have said he was second-in-command of the Revanites.

Darrok also smiled at the man. “I’m glad we can always rely on you, Captain Kraot.”

*

Chapter Text

Rakata Prime

The Garuda must have engaged its cloaking device, as it didn’t show up on the screens. But Lana Beniko could Sense its occupant’s presence. It wasn’t a blazing beacon in the sky, more like a single bird that was easy to overlook in a cloud of its brethren.

“It looks like Vajra will be joining us shortly,” she informed her group.

“I wish I could do that,” Jasme huffed. “I deserve to! He’s my little brother!”

“It doesn’t seem like he brought a friend with him, so his partner isn’t with him.” Lana went on.

“Shame. I miss her.”

The ship landed close to the shoreline, and Vajra emerged from the ship. Despite his mask, Lana could tell he was tired.

“You haven’t been sleeping,” she said accusatorily.

“Sorry. I had to meet back up with you as quickly as I could—”

“We’re flattered you care about our well-being. As it happens, we’re still a long ways off from being ready, so you can catch up on some well-deserved sleep.” Lana looked over at Jasme, who beamed back at her.

“Come on. I’ll tell you a story or two. I found a few good ones.”

“But my report—”

“T7 can give it to us,” Theron assured him. “Lana’s right. You look beat.”

“You can’t protect us if you’re feeling faint every half hour.”

“I—I get it.”

Lana chortled as Jasme led him off, kissing his head as she did so.

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

“A little. I’m an evil Sith after all. What’s power when you can’t boss your Jedi hero acquaintance around?”

Theron chuckled half-heartedly. “Sometimes, I just don’t get you.”

“You’re not the first to tell me that. T7, the report, if you please?”

The Astromech obliged. Lana frowned and looked over at Theron, who interpreted it as an inability to keep up.

“He says that Kira destroyed the Rakata facility on Tatooine. It was a prison for an old, would-be conqueror. It had machines to quickly convert humanoids into cyborg soldiers, and even keep them alive indefinitely. Long after their bodies died, they were still dangerous soldiers. It’s all looking like it belongs in a scrapyard now. As for Vajra, he thwarted a Sith on Belsavis. He arrived just in time to stop a massacre.”

“How did a Sith ship get down to Belsavis without detection?”

T7 whistled a brief reply.

“I see. The Revanites have roots everywhere.”

“None of that talk now,” Theron admonished half-heartedly. “We can’t…” he trailed off.

“I know. We need a list of names. And soon. At this point, I’m starting to wonder if even Tiarna Rooks and Darth Marr are in on it.”

“You think so?”

“Well… maybe not the Tiarna. She’s not into scheming and maneuvers. And she’d never allow an assault on Tython—”

“Why?”

“She famously favors peace, to the point where she’s started advocating for a gradual de-escalation. She’s not fought Jedi in years, until she joined in on Korriban’s defense. I even ran in on her greeting Nox. He looked like he had her boot print on his throat.”

“Damn. Do you think we can trust her?”

“I don’t know. I thought I could trust Arkous. I thought he favored cessation of hostilities too. He even convinced me that raiding the Temple would give us leverage.”

“Interesting. That was kind of what Darrok promised us, too.”

“Trusting is… difficult. Especially to people like us.”

“What kind of people are we like?”

“We’ve had our careers in Intelligence. We’ve seen betrayal, time and again. Even from people we thought loved us—”

“Don’t—” Theron looked furious for a moment, but bit back his retort. “How do you know so much about me?”

“Apologies. I don’t know your past. You’ve hidden it well. But I can read the signs, and whatever you broadcast into the Force.”

Theron’s olive-green eyes stared at her for almost a minute. “I guess you’re right. I don’t know your past either, but it’s easy to see other things. Arkous’ betrayal… it hurt you on a personal level, didn’t it?”

“I wasn’t in love with him, if that’s what you were asking. No, it was much worse. I’d come to trust him.”

“That is worse. The same for me and Darrok. He was my hero, same as several other key figures in the Republic. Of course, Vajra is one of those heroes. He saved me on Balmorra.”

“Really? Then why do I Sense a distance between the two of you?”

“Because I’m a flawed guy who really shouldn’t be such a jackass.”

“I see. It has something to do with Jasme. Or Grand Master Satele.”

“You got it.”

“We can change the subject, if you like.”

“Thank you. Tell me more about the Tiarna.”

“She’s recently come upon some good fortune. She’s found living cousins. Apparently, her uncle Kalburn’s lover Aime had triplets: Decklan, Sinead, Cian. And her other uncle, Cormac, had a son whose mother named him after his father. All of them had ordinary upbringings, though. She’s taken all four into her castle to train them to carry on the name. I believe she was relieved.”

“Why’s that? She’s not keen on having kids?”

“I don’t know. I think it’s more a matter of her not wanting to be obliged to do so. She is now free to pursue her own goals without worrying about such a thing. She’s named Decklan her heir. The Scarlet Prince. He’s almost twenty now, they all are. And he already has a child of his own on the way.”

“That’s swell… I guess.”

“Worried about the Dracogriffs?”

“Yeah. They’re dangerous. They could turn the tide of the war, if ever they were unleashed.”

“No, they could only make it bloodier. A hundred thousand cannot stop invaders from chipping away at the Empire. Besides, the Tiarna doesn’t want to commit more than twenty thousand to a campaign. They will never again be as exposed to weakness as they were when her mother died.”

“Do you think there will be peace in this lifetime?”

“Perhaps. I hope so. I would like to have more time to my own pursuits. What about you?”

“Yeah. Jasme’s not wrong; every time I see a happy couple out on a date, I feel this knot twisting up inside my stomach. I’m lonely.”

“You’re a handsome man. I’m sure you’ll find interested parties the moment you declare that you’re available.”

“Thanks.”

*

Jasme stayed by Vajra’s side to ensure he got a good five hours of sleep. It was easier than she’d hoped. He did wake up shaking and even crying a couple of times, but went back to sleep on his own.

That gave Jasme a chance to catch up non her research.

She finally woke him around noon. “Morning, sunshine. I made us some noodles.”

“Thank you.”

“Eat up. There’s plenty for all five of us. Including Jakarro. Please eat more than a thimbleful, or I’ll have to inform Lana that someone’s skimping.”

He gave her an arch look before nibbling on the food. Jasme sighed. “What does Lana Beniko have that I don’t? No, wait, that sounds weird. What do you think about her?”

“She’s kind,” Vajra answered. “Kinder than she pretends to be. Strong. Intelligent. Wise. Pragmatic. She’s no one’s pawn. And there’s something familiar about her.”

“How so?”

“I don’t know. But her voice, her presence in the Force. I’ve felt it before. In a good way.”

“I see. And she’s attractive too, isn’t she? ‘Striking,’ I’d call it. I think I will get her here after all. She won’t mind.”

“Wait—”

“Too late!”

“Jasme!”

Jasme turned back to him from the door. “It’s plain to see she has a crush on you. And you have one on her too, though I don’t really get why. Maybe it’s that sense of phantom familiarity.”

“I don’t—”

“Little brother,” Jasme said softly, returning to him and cupping a hand on his cheek. “Lana can lie to me, but you shouldn’t. If you’re worried I’d hate you for it, since she helped plan the Attack on Tython and all… please don’t. She’s clearly good for you. And cares for you a great deal, as I already said.”

“But am I good for her?” He looked surprised by his own question.

Jasme lightly rammed her forehead against his. “Don’t say that. You have a lot to offer. Like how sweet and gentle you are. You’re a good listener. And you—”

“Ah, good. You’re up already. And eating too.” Lana said as she entered the ship. She looked around the ship interestedly before locking onto Vajra. “You are eating, aren’t you?”

“Yes, ma’am. A little slowly.”

“That’s alright. Take your time, so long as you eat what’s on your plate.” She added a few more scoops of the food.

“I can’t.”

“Oh, alright. But I expect you to drink up a full glass of that shake you bought on Ryloth.”

“I didn’t buy any—”

T7 whistled happily.

“Oh. Of course.”

Lana sat down and stretched. She looked tired, having been working the whole morning. She placed a holoprojector on the table and lit up the map that was on it. “This is where we are. And this is where the Revanites are. We’ve confirmed that Arkous and Darrok are there.”

“It’s nearly nine kilometers off.”

“What’s worse are the Rakatans.”

“Rakatans?”

“Yes. They’re far from their glory days now. Quite tribal and primitive. Hostile too, we believe. The Revanites are keeping well away from them.”

“Maybe I can get around them.”

“You can, but I don’t know if Jakarro would be willing to comply. He wants to be there when you confront our enemies.”

“Maybe I can convince him to be quiet. Will you be coming with us?”

“No, Theron and I will stay back with the ships. There is a good chance our quarry will attempt to escape us. If they do, we’ll be prepared to shoot them down. Jakarro’s ship may not look like much, but it has state-of-the-art jamming equipment. And it’s almost as fast as yours, but with a lot more armaments. We should be able to prevent any escape attempt… but that’s something we’d like to avoid. We need them alive, if possible.”

“Understood.”

“T7 will download files from any and all computers and terminals you come across. With luck, we will get something of value.”

T7 whistled and swirled his head.

“When do I leave?”

“Once you’ve eaten, plus ten minutes. Jakarro? You’d best eat up too.”

*

Chapter Text

Rakata Prime

The land on Rakata Prime was a little on the hot side for Vajra, but quite beautiful as well. It had the oceans of Manaan, but beaches to go with it. The land was all bright gold sands with frequent outcroppings of dark obsidian rocks. Most of the palm trees were shorter and stubbier, but there was the occasional giant that towered above its brethren. The skies were as blue as the ocean.

“This is a beautiful place,” Vajra commented.

<Needs bigger trees> Jakarro rumbled.

“I dunno… I could say it needs more snow-capped mountains.”

<Jedi not wrong. Sand is bad, salt in ocean is bad. Forms itchy crust in the mighty Jakarro’s fur! Mountains good.>

“Yeah, I don’t like sand either. But at least this place doesn’t have binary suns. Tatooine was a furnace.”

<Bad place, Tatooine. The Mighty Jakarro is covered in thick fur. Gets very hot and sweaty. Kashyyyk much better. Trees as high as mountains of Alderaan. None of this sand and binary suns.>

“Most worlds don’t have those.”

<Most of galaxy would be nice place to live, if not for Hutts and war. When will war stop?>

“Working on it.”

<Lord Beniko, Theron, and Jasme say you killed Sith Emperor.>

“I did.”

<Did you think that would bring peace?>

“No. The Sith Emperor was planning to kill trillions to grow stronger. Killing him was a matter of survival.”

<Does Vajra believe that?>

“I do. I’ve seen what he’s capable of.”

<Then Jakarro believes, unless Vajra proven untrustworthy.>

“Fair enough. Say, why is C2-D4 so quiet?”

<Shut him down. The Busy Jakarro does not need his jabbering while he works.>

“Why did you take him apart anyway?”

<Is amusing.>

“Is that all?”

<Amusement is everything, Jedi!>

“I suppose. But doesn’t the joke grow stale?”

<When it does, the Mighty Jakarro will change D4’s colors. Sewage green, his least favorite. Change vocabulator to sound like Belda the Hutt. Use him as Hutt ball. Imagination is key to amusement with limited resources.>

“That’s an interesting take. I feel bad for him though. I’m not a fan of Droids being treated like this. I prefer taking apart things that don’t appear to think for themselves.”

T7 chirped gratefully.

<D4 likes to put things in the Mighty Jakarro’s food. Brought it on himself.>

They drew closer to the Rakata village, and Vajra was grateful that Jakarro followed his lead. They silently skirted around the periphery of the village, hoping to make it out the other side without incident. But the village was built in a gorge with tall, smooth cliffs all around it; and all vegetation had been cut down to make space for the many huts, or as fuel for fires.

“The terrain doesn’t seem to be working with us, does it?” Lana asked.

“Did we have to approach from this angle? Couldn’t we have taken a different route?”

“Unfortunately, this is the only path in or out unless we take a ship.”

They were all but channeled into a large basin on the other end of the town, a basin that looked suspiciously like an arena.

“That Rancor looks mean,” Theron said. “I do not envy you.”

“Please don’t go overboard,” Jasme requested.

“What she means is, try to finish it off in a single blow,” Lana said. “Nine noted how you like taking your time.”

“You only say that because you don’t see how big this is.”

“I have every faith in your abilities.” She was smiling ear to ear, Vajra just knew it. Part of him wished he could see it.

What was wrong with him?

He heard Jasme’s voice telling him—accusing him, even—that he had a crush on his knew acquaintance. And if he was really being honest with himself, he did. How often was it that someone had rescued him? But more than that, she was attractive on so many different levels, including charisma, wisdom, intelligence, and competence. She was stronger than him too, he just knew it. But while he liked those yellow eyes, they were a constant reminder that anything he attempted to share with her would ultimately end in separation.

*

Lana Beniko couldn’t help but smile wide when she told Vajra, “I have every faith in your abilities.”

And she did. Thanks to her previous life, she knew what he was capable of even better than Jasme or Kira. She knew that something like a Rancor couldn’t last two seconds against him, if he decided not to waste time with it.

“Got it,” Jasme smiled.

“Got what?”

“Your smile. I have a feeling Vajra would want to see it.”

Lana turned crimson. “No! Delete that, right now!”

“Theron, the Sithy beauty is scaring me!”

“Don’t say that! You spent months with Tiarna Rooks, of all people! I’m nothing in comparison!”

“Vajra wouldn’t think so. He likes you!”

“Jasme…” Theron said warningly.

“Please? The smile was very cute. Tell you what! I won’t show it to Vajra unless you both decide to give each other a try.”

“You’re crazy! We’re on opposite sides, here! It’s not like—” she sighed. She didn’t want to bring up Jasme’s own history right now, because she didn’t think Theron knew yet. This would be a rude way to spill the beans.

“You like him,” Jasme prompted. “Don’t you?”

“He’s kind, patient, wise, gentle, and stronger than he likes to believe. Who in the galaxy could’ve survived what he did, and still managed to stand back up to protect the ones they care about? I admire him for this strength. That’s all.”

“What do you know about what he survived?” Jasme asked.

“A little. But he was the Emperor’s prisoner for a year. That man was not known for being a good host. And I’ve heard Master Shan’s speech aboard the Valiant. One of our assets acquired it. I’m not saying anything she didn’t.”

They silently watched Vajra and Jakarro take on the Rancor and its master, the village chief, from T7’s feed.

Vajra did as she requested, all but teleporting to the Rancor’s foot and launching himself upwards with his Lightsaber drawn. The strike almost cut the poor beast’s head clean off.

“Well, I’ll be damned,” Theron whispered. “He really did do it in one blow!”

“I think he deserves a reward for being a good boy,” Jasme remarked snidely.

Although Lana ignored her, she couldn’t help but reflect on her feelings for Vajra. Though there was no way he could know this, they had spent a lot of time together. She’d spent a whole year watching him, playing that charming game with the offerings, trading increasingly more honest letters with him. He’d saved her parents on Balmorra, saved them from public humiliation, suffering, and even rape. And of course, he had come to save her in her most desperate hour. Descended out of the gloom of Quesh, nursed her back to health, and waited on her hand and foot as she got worse before getting better. And of course, she still remembered meeting him, as Mercy, on Alderaan. Her very first date, and perhaps her very best.

But those were Mercy’s feelings for him. Her time with him, not Lana’s. Vajra didn’t even know Lana, though he certainly seemed to recognize her.

Stop that. It’s not you that he’s recognizing. It’s Mercy.

But Lana couldn’t help herself. Mercy’s feelings were her feelings. And Mercy undoubtedly liked the Jedi a great deal. What was so bad about it anyway? The answer, of course, was sitting right next to her.

Jasme Shan, his best friend, whose life had been endangered. Lana bore some of the blame. Yes, there was no way Vajra would like her now. She was not Mercy, she was Lana. And Lana had made a terrible first impression.

She tuned back into reality to find the fight still in progress: Jakarro had insisted on fighting the chief one-on-one, and had taken nearly ten minutes to finish him off. Meanwhile, Rakatan villagers had entered the arena to join in the fight. Vajra had been forced to deal with them. Lana was certain he didn’t like it. She keyed a few of their more distant drones and sighed. “The Revanites are mustering their forces and setting up defensive positions. I’d say ‘they Sensed your presence,’ but I imagine it’s all the commotion.”

“We’re sorry,” Vajra replied. “We should’ve done this more efficiently—”

“Don’t worry about it. Just double-time it. You’re less than a kilometer away from them now. They won’t have enough time to prepare for you. Just get them before Darrok and Arkous realize who’s come for them.”

*

<I’m sorry> Jakarro said.

“For what?”

<Is my fault. I should’ve let you handle it. Now I’ve made you look bad for Lord Beniko.>

“It’s fine. There’s no way we could’ve finished quickly once the whole village got in on the action. And what do you mean, ‘look bad for Lord Beniko’?”

<Vajra likes her, and she likes him. Is clear as noon to the perceptive Jakarro!>

“Did Jasme put you up to this?”

<Why does Vajra not accept his feelings? Lord Beniko saved his life. She cares for his well-being. He cares for hers. He saved her family.>

“It’s complicated. Why would someone like her go for someone like me anyway? It’s not like pure combat strength is something most people look for in a relationship.”

The Wookiee looked at him for a full minute. <The wise and experienced Jakarro thinks Vajra and Lord Beniko need to sit down and have an honest discussion. And a few hours to mate.>

“Jakarro…”

<What does droid think?>

<T7 = does not approve. Sith Lord: Lana Beniko = highly suspicious. Hiding secrets + is Sith. Sith Lord : Lana Beniko = helped plan attack on Tython.>

Vajra found himself defending her. “My feelings aside, she didn’t start this war. She did what she had to, just like me. I wonder how many of her friends I’ve killed over the years. Like when I touched down on Dromund Kaas. For all I know, I slew someone very dear to her.”

<Has Vajra seen how she looks at him? Has Vajra not noticed how she looks out for him? Those are not enemy actions. The patient and wise Jakarro says again: Vajra needs to speak to Lord Beniko.>

<Hypothesis, Sith Lord Lana Beniko = looking out for Jedi Vajra: accepted. Corollary: Sith Lord Lana Beniko does not hate Jedi Vajra.>

Really?

Well, if he was honest with himself, he already knew this was true. She did seem to worry about his health; and not from a place of convenience. And their few shared moments… they did give him the impression that there was something there. From her side as well.

Maybe I do need to talk to her… no. No, I can’t. She’s too good for me. She deserves better than a broken has-been dealing with PTSD.

*

The support team watched the attack group as they engaged with the Infinite Army Conscripts. About forty of them, with only their centurion on the same level as the prototype on Manaan. The right Rakata parts must have been extremely hard to come by, even here.

The fight itself was very balletic; Vajra wove his way in and out of the enemy lines, his Lightsaber deflecting all the blaster bolts right back where they came from. The cyborgs were resilient, however, but nothing a Lightsaber couldn’t fix.

The centurion was the only one who managed to put up a decent fight, using a combination of dozens of weapons and defenses to stay alive for a whole minute.

“That didn’t take him very long at all,” Lana said with relief. “It’s nice to see he’s still in top form. I was a little worried there.”

“So was I,” Jasme said. “Those cyborgs… I wonder if they wanted to be there. Or if they really were conscripts. I guess it doesn’t matter what the truth was; he’d have felt it nonetheless.”

Lana gave the taller woman’s hand a squeeze, which the other returned before standing up to leave. “Excuse me. I need to see how that curry is coming along.”

“He’s coming up on a charging station,” Theron said suddenly. “Twenty more conscripts.”

“Excellent work,” Lana said into the comm. “Theron is slicing into the facility’s structural plan now.”

“It’s practically a fallout shelter,” Vajra replied. “Do you think it was built way back, in their glory days?”

“Maybe. I’ll leave that to Jasme to answer, once she gets back.”

“Your only option is to pass through the assembly ahead of you.”

“The cyborgs ahead are in some kind of standby mode. They might activate as soon as you enter the room. Be ready for a fight.”

“Blasted sensors,” Theron cursed. “Lana, could you do a quick perimeter check? I can’t tell if these contacts are real or not.”

Lana stood, trying to hide her deep sigh. “Right away.”

She left the cockpit, but stayed close enough to listen in on the private instructions Theron had for Vajra¹. “Alright, we don’t have much time. We can’t risk any of the tech in that conscription center falling into Imperial hands. Overload the console. That’ll fry everything inside and kill the cyborgs before they have a chance to wake up.”

Lana could picture Vajra’s look of shock and horror. “No, thank you.”

“We’ve got a Sith breathing down our necks, crazy cultists all around us, and you want to take chances?!”

“Don’t take that tone with me, Theron Shan. You don’t know me, and you don’t know what I’ve been through. I will not kill these poor souls in their sleep.”

Lana decided to step back in before Vajra really lost his temper. “Pardon me. There’s nothing out there. What did I miss?”

“Apparently nothing,” Theron said through gritted teeth. “I’ll add the sensors to the list of things on this ship, that we can’t rely on. We’ll contact you if anything else comes up.”

Jasme entered cheerfully, carrying a tray full of snacks. “Elo! Did I miss anything?”

“No,” Lana and Theron said at the same time. They silently tracked Vajra’s progress for a few minutes.

“You know, it just occurred to me that this might be a cruel déjà vu for Vajra,” Lana said as if just remembering.

“What do you mean?”

“The Power Guard project. Var Suthra’s super soldier program, the one that turned people into mindless cyborgs. Refugees promised the chance for payback, but put through horrific experiments to turn them into killing machines instead. Var Suthra ordered Vajra to destroy all two thousand test subjects.” Not quite accurate, but close enough.

“Yeah,” Jasme said sadly. “I’m surprised you know about that. It was one of the least savory of Var Suthra’s projects, and therefore, something that wasn’t disseminated among the public. It almost got Var Suthra executed.”

“I didn’t know about that!” Theron said, his eyes wide. “Did he do it? Kill all those test subjects?”

“No,” Jasme said. “He made a deal with freelancers to evacuate them; allowed somewhat untrustworthy people to find out some of the details, rather than kill innocents. Especially sleeping innocents. He did kill thirty Mark IIIs aboard Angral’s vessel, though. That was bad enough. It haunted him for a long time.” She sighed. “His therapy sessions… they were intense. He had so much guilt built up.”

“Oh.” Theron looked like he’d realized what his mistake was.

“But you know Vajra’s files inside and out, don’t you?” Jasme asked.

“It’s not what you’re implying. Of all the candidates for possible Revanites, it was him that I feared the most. Imagine if Vajra was one of them.”

“I know what you mean. Who else have you investigated?”

“Your parents, Tiarna Rooks, Darths Marr, Nox, Acina, Vowrawn and Nox, Masters Devel, Kaedan, Gnost-Dural, Kira Carsen, Lord Scourge… unfortunately, my investigations were largely inconclusive. It’s tough to eliminate suspects in cases like this without thorough examination of their daily routines, and associations.”

“She’s got that right,” Theron agreed. “We took a big risk reaching out to each other, but imagine if either of us were wrong.”

“Imagine if both of us were.”

“Like I said, I hate conspiracies.”

“Oh… it looks like they’re getting closer to the terrace. Where Arkous and Darrok are.” She studied the sensors. “We’re picking up activity on the roof. Arkous and Darrok might be trying to make an escape.”

“Looks like they’ve got a shuttle,” Theron added. “I’m priming the long-range mortar. We’ll shoot them down if we have to, but I’d rather take them in for questioning if you can. Hurry!”

They piped down. Lana thought about it for a moment. The man she’d had feelings for, for several years now, fighting a man who had won and then abused her absolute respect. Despite everything, she didn’t want Arkous dead. Or to even suffer. She wanted him to see the error of his ways, and apologize to her.

She wouldn’t be able to forgive him, to go back to working for him as if nothing had happened. But it would be a consolation prize to know that she’d not misjudged the man entirely.

“How are you feeling, Theron?” she asked. “I’m a bit conflicted.”

“I think I know what you mean. Years of respecting someone doesn’t just go away.”

“We need something to take away. To know that we weren’t completely wrong.”

“Exactly.”

“You two are on the same wavelength, aren’t you?” Jasme said, giving them a strange look. “I wonder which one of us is the real twin.”

“You’re not going to start shipping us, are you?” Theron asked nervously.

“‘Shipping?’” Lana whispered.

“I don’t see it. Yet. Lots of similarities, but some obvious lack of trust. That’ll probably change, over time.”

Lana’s eyebrows rose. It was far too easy to forget how perceptive Jasme was.

“But she trusts Vajra?” Theron asked in disbelief.

“And me,” Jasme nodded. “Yes. Funny enough, that’s the same as you. Like I said. Two of a kind.”

Lana was a little thrown off by the comparison. She and Theron shared a look. “Maybe she has a point.”

“Yeah. But I wouldn’t trust me, so I get why you wouldn’t either.”

Lana flashed him a rueful smile. “Likewise.”

*

Chapter Text

Jakarro reactivated the Droid head as they neared the summit. “Where are we?” the droid asked panickily. “Have you dealt with Arkous and Darrok yet? No? Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you! I want me some of that sweet vengeance too!”

<Shut up, droid! I have awoken you so you may aid in this battle.>

Vajra drained his second water bottle before opening the door to the terrace. He looked around as he walked out into the open. There was the shuttle that the pair had been attempting to make a getaway in, but for whatever reason, they had chosen to forget about escape and make a last stand instead.

They were willing to die rather than escape. That triggered alarm bells in Vajra’s head.

“Darrok. Arkous. So glad to meet you again. I do wish you hadn’t ended our last talk so prematurely. It was so enlightening!”

“Spare us your wit!” Darrok spat. “You think you’ve won? You slowed us down, nothing more.”

“We’re so much bigger than what you imagine!” Arkous declared. “There’s enough of us to fill a fleet! Even without us, the others will carry on our work. You have achieved nothing here today!”

“Really?” Vajra laughed. “You have no idea how many times I’ve heard that. Even Malgus said something like that, unless I’m remembering it wrong. You said you wanted peace. Tell me what your plan is. It certainly isn’t peace through pacifism; you’re entering the conflict as a third party! You won’t end the war, merely prolong it. You, Arkous, with your position you could have pushed for a true peace if that was what you truly wanted. So be honest and tell me. What is your goal?”

But his opponents were no longer willing to talk. “Spare us your barbs and your questions!” Arkous cried. “We will betray nothing! The Order of Revan will prevail!”

Darrok flexed his heavy cannon. “We’re putting an end to your meddling! Here, and now!”

Arkous fired a beam of Lightning—always a classic. Vajra didn't bother accumulating too much of the energy on the blade yet. He just unravelled it, the Lightning fizzling out around him.

“You do realize the Emperor tried this on Dromund Kaas, right? So much Lightning that your whole capital city was encased in a dome of lightning. It didn’t do squat for him.”

“Shut up!” Darrok started blasting him with the cannon.

It took effort for Vajra to refrain from rolling his eyes. “When has that ever worked?” He deflected the bolts right back at the soldier’s feet. The Colonel cried out and fell on his backside, dropping the cannon in the process. It continued to fire for a few seconds before it stopped.

Arkous danced around a bit to avoid the spray.

Vajra moved. In an instant, he was in Arkous’ face, his blue-green blade battering down the Councilor’s red one. Arkous gasped, knowing at once he was outmatched but unable to escape Vajra’s momentum.

Although Vajra could easily have taken both Revanite leaders at once, he left Darrok to Jakarro. The Wookiee had slapped the vibroblade out of the soldier’s hands and was raining blows onto his armor, which was starting to splinter and break.

Vajra destroyed Arkous’ blade and struck his eye with the same swipe. The Sith Pureblood fell to the ground and attempted to fire Lightning at him again. Vajra evaded the stream and punched him in the cheek.

“Impossible!” Arkous cried from the floor. “It can’t be!”

“Sorry about this, Arkous,” Darrok mumbled from where Jakarro had flung him. “But I was right.” He pressed a button on his wrist. Both men’s chests exploded, clearly thanks to low-yield explosives.

Vajra sighed. “This is Third Eye calling Nest. Darrok... killed both himself and Arkous. They were never going to be taken alive.”

Theron was quite upset, though Vajra didn’t particularly care about his feelings at the moment. “Dammit, those two were the only ones who knew what was going on!”

“No!” Lana said. “The disturbance in the Force, it’s only getting stronger. Arkous and Darrok weren’t the source. Whatever that was... it’s growing. I think it’s coming! Here!”

Several ships emerged from Hyperspace, then descended into the atmosphere. A Harrower, flanked by a pair of Hammerhead cruisers.

Arkous’ comm started ringing. Fearing the worst, Vajra answered it.

A figure in tattered robes appeared, and wearing a familiar mask. This must be the leader, dressed in full Revan regalia.

“Hello,” Vajra said politely. “Arkous can’t make it right now. He’s missing a chest. Not my fault, Darrok killed him. And himself.”

“Arkous and Darrok were both valuable allies in my cause. But their deaths will not delay what is coming.”

“I know that voice,” Lana chimed in.

“Revan?!” Jasme gasped. “Impossible. I saw him die!”

“Oh, but I was dead. Until I returned. The Force has seen fit to grant me a second chance. My Infinite Army could have accomplished so much... but I still have other weapons in my arsenal!”

Vajra scoffed. “I heard what you did after your release. You plotted genocide and called it peace. I was so pleased to hear that were thwarted. Don’t tell me you’re trying to top that plan with another lunatic’s idea?”

“Of course, you would fail to see the forest for the trees, JEDI!”

“What forest and what trees? Your pitch for peace seems to be ‘The war will end, if everyone in the galaxy is dead!’”

“What a terrible simplification... but yes. In order for peace to reign, sacrifices are needed. As many as are required. And the Republic is too weak and unfocussed to do what must be done. And the Jedi are ever slow to act. In my time the Council refused to budge even as the Mandalorians burned world after world. They were content to let the galaxy fall to ruin. Only I had the strength to do what had to be done! I persuaded hundreds of Jedi to join me and turn the tide. And we did. Without us, the galaxy would have fallen. Ever it was my burden to carry the torch of leadership. To rally the masses, and shepherd them into a brighter age. My followers are legion. My ranks grow with every hour as more and more people see the truth of the galaxy. The Emperor couldn’t break me. Even Death couldn’t stop me. I will finish what I started, and you will not interfere again.”

Vajra appeared unimpressed. “But if you’re wrong and we do meet again, promise me you’ll drop the rehearsed speeches!”

“The only promise you will get from me is oblivion. Farewell, foolish Jedi.”

“GET OUT OF THERE!” Lana screamed. “FIND COVER! WE’LL COME FIND YOU AFTERWARDS!”

<Keep my ship safe!> Jakarro roared.

“No time,” Vajra pulled the Wookiee and T7 behind him. “Come on! This place is a fortress!”

The lead ship began to fire. Cannon fire and missiles began pouring down on their positions, but Vajra and his group barely managed to dive into the fortress before they were hit. They didn’t stop; they kept on running, ever deeper.

Sometimes Jakarro stumbled, but Vajra pulled him back on his feet each time. At just the wrong time, Vajra felt faint too, and tripped down a long stairwell.

<JEDI!>

“I’m okay!” Vajra groaned. He tested his legs. He nodded. He was still feeling dizzy. “They’ll bruise, but I can run.”

<YOU ARE UNWELL!> The Wookie picked him up and resumed running. <THIS IS WHY YOUR SOON-TO-BE MATE WORRIES ABOUT YOUR HEALTH! STRONG WARRIOR NEEDS MEAT ON HIS BONES!>

“There,” Vajra pointed. “I think that goes underground.”

“Good thing this is so studry!” Deefour blurted.

“Not sturdy enough! Hurry!”

No sooner had they ducked into the bunker beneath, than the whole structure collapsed on top of them. Vajra could Sense the cave-in, could Feel thousands of tons of stone pile up on their refuge.

I hope Lana got away, he thought. And Jasme. Sorry, guys. I failed to capture Arkous alive.

*

The next day

Everyone was hysterical. They argued, again and again, about the right time to return. Lana and Jasme wanted to go within an hour, but Theron wanted to wait at least two days. In the end, Theron agreed, after receiving a message that ominously drained the color from his face.

They arrived right on top of the structure, which was mostly standing, but for a big chunk in the middle. Remarkable construction. Lana leapt out of the ship as it still searched for a place to land. Above her, Vajra’s ship appeared as well. For a brief moment, she felt relieved before realizing it was just his droid pilots in there. She could Sense Vajra down on the ground, beneath tons of rubble.

She took a few steadying breaths, then reached for her passions. Her fear that Vajra was dead, and her rage at Arkous’ final betrayal. Most of all, she reached for the feelings she’d inherited from Nine, of all the good times she’d had, especially the ones she’d had with Vajra; and all her triumphs and achievements.

She began raising the rubble, one block at a time so as to avoid cave-ins. Patience was difficult for a Sith to maintain when channeling the Dark Side, but patience was just what was needed here, unless she wanted to trigger more collapses, or undo her own work in her hast.

Grab, pick, lift, throw. This was the four-step process she followed, throwing the heavy stonework into a pile outside the fortress. Jasme and Theron reached her when she had about three or four blocks left. Less than a minute later, she was finished. She leapt into the hole, drawing her Lightsaber as she approached the heavy, dented door. She destroyed it with a few powerful, artless strikes, and pulled out the metal.

Theron approached behind her and activated his flashlight. “Hey! Hey! You guys alright?”

Inside the bunker, the occupants gasped for breath. “Fresh air!” Vajra gasped. “Thank you!”

<The Mighty Jakarro has survived another brush with death!> Jakarro roared.

Lana leapt inside and went straight for Vajra. She began examining him at once, her fingers digging into his forehead.

“Owww!” he said weakly.

“Give him—them water,” Lana ordered her companions. “Prepare the drips, just in case.”

“Vajra’s ship is better stocked,” Jasme said. “Not to mention, his protocol droid is a good medic. I’ll call his pilots in for a landing.”

“T7?” Vajra asked.

<T7 = needs cleaning. Parts clogged by dirt.>

“Got it.”

“You’re mostly fine,” Lana said in relief. “Raudra physiology must’ve dealt with what little damage he took. It’s all deprivation from here. Come now, Jakarro. Your turn. You look like you’ve lost more water than blood, but can’t be too careful.”

<The mighty Jakarro thanks you!>

“You saved us again,” Vajra said. “We’d be dead if not for you.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Come on,” Theron said. “I’ll get you out.”

“No need. My legs still work—”

“Shut up. You’re in real bad shape.”

“I’ve bounced back from worse.”

“Doesn’t mean you should pretend you’re alright, when you’re not.”

“You’re okay too,” Lana told Jakarro. “You both got extremely lucky.”

<Not luck. This structure was strong. The Rakata must have truly been remarkable structural engineers, that a whole afternoon’s bombardment could only leave this much destruction on a building tens of thousands of years old!>

“Indeed. If they hadn’t overreached, they might still be among us today. Come now. I’ve asked Vajra’s droid to prepare you both a delicious lunch. You deserve it!”

*

Chapter Text

Lana finally allowed herself to relax when Vajra’s C2 droid declared he only needed rest now. She began browsing through her mail.

There were only a few important ones.

The first was from Darth Arkous.

‘My Dear Lana.
You have disappointed me. You had such remarkable talents and potential! It was my dream to induct you into my inner circle, perhaps even ask for your hand in marriage someday. I thought we’d fight the ills of the galaxy together, forever.
Alas, you had to go and let yourself be muddied by dallying with that… Jedi. The Crown Reaper. He may have killed a few important people, but he has changed nothing. Can change nothing. He was your undoing, the insignificant pawn that made you abandon your signature reason for mediocrity.
I admired Lana the cunning pragmatist. I no longer need the services of Lana the pawn.
Consider this your severance.
I will see you when I kill you.
Farewell,

Darth Arkous,
Head of the Sphere of Military Offense.

PS. I really hope you seek out more allies; especially well-placed allies. Our numbers are not unending, but I have friends everywhere. The one you look to for help, just might be the one to feign friendship and lead you into a trap. Grand Master Shan? Darth Marr? Tiarna Rooks? Chancellor Saresh? Anyone might secretly be one of us.’

“What’s wrong?” Vajra asked her. “You look upset.”

“A letter from Darth Arkous,” she replied. “He sent it right before you confronted him. I think he wasn’t expecting to die so pathetically. Here, take a look. It’s quite a laugh.”

Vajra scanned through it quickly before looking back at her.

“I didn’t love him, but marriages of convenience are common among my people. There’s a good chance I would have said yes, had he ever proposed. It would’ve made my job easier. And like I said, I trusted him—”

“Lana,” he said softly, taking her hand. “I’m so, so sorry. It’s never easy knowing you trusted the wrong person, is it?”

“No, it isn’t.” She looked into his eyes. They were just as she remembered, so full of compassion and care. He would take on the whole galaxy’s burdens, if he could.

It made her want to hit something. She wished he could look out for himself, the way he did everything else in the galaxy. “Jakarro told me how you nearly fainted down there. I’m glad I—we didn’t lose you too. Arkous’ betrayal and death, I can deal with. Your death, on the other hand… you’re a good man, Vajra. A great one.”

“You’re a good person too. I’m glad to have met you.”

“You only say that because you don’t know what I’ve done.”

“I know you saved my life. Twice, in less than a week.”

Lana chuckled. She felt a sense of déjà vu again.

“What’s so funny?”

“I saved you, because I need you.”

“You still saved me. That means a lot to me.”

“So, you’re intent on owing me a favor no matter what I say, hmmm? I’ll take it. Despite what Arkous says, you have the power to change everything, if you desire it. You’ve just been resting the past few years. But you’re ready to emerge again, and the galaxy will never be the same… if indeed, you want to change it.”

“I’ll try to only make good changes, I swear. Like bring-your-rabbits-to-Vajra day!”

Laughing lightly, Lana quickly read her second message. It was from Shara Jenn.

‘Lana.
You’ve been accused of high treason for the murder of Darth Arkous. There’s a bounty on your head, to the tune of five million credits. I don’t know what’s happened, but I do know you’re not the type for vain ambition and powerplays. Certainly, you’re not dumb enough to kill someone as big as Arkous, and then get caught like this. Stay away from the Empire until the heat has died down. Or until you can clear your name. You can reach me in the old way, if you need help.
Love,
Shara.’

“Damn,” Lana whispered. “I was wrong. This was Arkous’ final betrayal. I hope we dig up his skull, so I can kick it into a garbage heap.”

“Lana—”

“Don’t worry. I’ll have the last laugh. If you’re willing to help me—”

“What kind of question is that? Of course, I am!”

Lana smiled at him. “Thank you.”

“Good, you’re awake.” Theron entered the medbay, followed closely by Jasme, Jakarro, and T7. It was suddenly crowded in here! “I’m glad you’re safe. With all the fire that ship was laying down, I wasn’t optimistic.”

“I just got word from a friend,” Lana told him. “There’s a bounty on my head. I’m wanted for the murder of Darth Arkous.”

“Figures. Normally, they’d promote you for that kind of thing, wouldn’t they?”

“No. Common misconception.”

“Either way, the Revanites are behind it. They’ve also arranged for twelve separate death marks for Jakarro.”

<The mighty Jakarro is pleased! His worth has been acknowledged!>

“And you?” Vajra asked Theron.

“‘Disavowed rogue agent, apprehend on sight.’ Pretty tame, compared to the others. The director must’ve stood up for me. And mom and dad might’ve been brought into the loop, too. The report came in from our internal crimes division, convincingly forged evidence. The only way to disprove it all, is with more evidence. And since you asked, no one has said anything about you. Yet.”

“That’s ridiculous!” Vajra burst out. “I’m the one who killed them both! We even have video evidence!”

“We can mark it as part of the litany, for when we make our triumphant return,” Lana said. “For the time being, it suits us to work behind the scenes. Theron, look at this.” She handed him Arkous’ final letter. “He was just goading us… but I can’t help but believe him. I’m fairly certain all the names he mentioned were bluffs, including Saresh, but—”

“I get what you mean. We need to know whom we can trust.”

“Has anything been done to tarnish Jasme’s name?”

“So far as they know, she’s not even involved. She can return to the temple like nothing happened, if she wants.”

“She doesn’t want that,” Jasme said crossly. “I’ve been attacked twice when I thought I was safe. I’d rather be away from the obvious action. And I’m not letting Theron out of my sight. For all I know, he’s whipped up this little conspiracy just so he can disappear from my life again!”

From her tone, it was clear she was just trying to keep things light, but she sounded afraid.

“Like I said, your records are clean for now. But it won’t stay that way if you’re seen working with us. Lana, Jakarro, D4, and I are all going off the grid. We need to stay hidden if we’re going to continue our investigations. No contact, period.”

“I don’t care about my record. I’m going with you.”

“So am I!” Jasme declared. “I was joking about the conspiracy thing, but I want to stick close to you now that I have you.”

“Look, someone needs to keep watch on the Republic and Empire!”

“Kira and Satele can handle it,” Vajra told him.

“I think I can trust Queen Rooks, too,” Lana said. “She’d never knowingly work with Revan.”

“You said it,” Jasme agreed.

“Look, there’s more to this,” Theron said. “You can distract the Revanites. If you can travel the galaxy, and achieve impossible things, you’ll make it hard for them to keep up. The busier you keep them, the easier it will be for the rest of us to slip through the cracks and find their leader.”

“I’m sorry, Theron. But I can’t. I can’t walk away, or pretend to.”

Theron looked at Lana for support. “Truthfully, I’d like him close by,” the Sith smiled weakly. “Our group is too small, as it is.”

“And I can fight Revan himself, alone.”

“You and Tiarna Rooks are the only two people who I’d believe, saying that like it’s nothing at all,” Lana muttered. “Anyone else would be bragging.”

“Scourge could probably take him, too.”

“Could he, now? Interesting.”

“The real problem, is finding him.”

“We’ll worry about that tomorrow, shall we?” Lana looked at Theron, who nodded.

“Right. You get some sleep, and I’ll help T7 and D4 look through all the data they gathered.”

“I will watch over you and Jakarro,” Lana told Vajra. “You two need some good, uninterrupted rest.”

“I’ll help Theron,” Jasme said brightly. “But I won’t forget to check in from time to time. Goodnight, little brother.” She kissed Vajra on the forehead before leaving.

“Right then, lads!” Lana clapped her hands together. “It’s mealtime. C2 made burritos. Do either of you need any help?” She laughed at Vajra’s somewhat self-conscious look. “It’s alright. I won’t force-feed you, provided you eat the whole thing.”

“That’s a big burrito.”

“That’s Jakarro’s. This is yours.”

“That’s even bigger!”

<Not fair! The mighty Jakarro needs much nourishment to regain his strength!>

“Oh, alright. Consider yourself lucky, Jedi. You only have to deal with this tiny one. You’re still a growing man, aren’t you? You need your nutrients. You’re already a little on the small side thanks to years of malnutrition, aren’t you?”

<Vajra is still growing?> Jakarro asked in surprise.

“That’s what his medical records say. But don’t worry; he’s past his puberty. He’s a fully grown adult.”

“Such as I am. Can you… can you help me? I feel full fast. It’s not like I want to eat less.” The admission seemed to bring him great shame.

Lana gave one of his hands a tight squeeze. “I understand that. How’s this? I could distract you. I’m not as good a storyteller as Jasme, but I think I can pull out a tale or two.”

“That sounds… thank you.”

“I’ve got one. See this?” She pointed at the design on her cape. “It’s called a stygian wolf, and there’s a very specific reason why I chose it as my standard. To me, these wolves represent beauty, sanctuary, and strength in a time of strife, danger, and uncertainty.”

“I like the sound of that.”

“This is the story of my fifth trial, which took place at Umbara’s Assassin Temple.”

*

Jasme entered almost an hour later, to find the three of them asleep. Quite soundly too.

She giggled to herself. She’d wanted to hang out with Vajra a bit, and thank him for surviving that ghastly bombardment. For coming back to her. He’d survived a deathmatch with the Emperor, but she doubted his personal Form VII variant, the Rath form, could deal with cannons the way it had Lightning.

At least presence of mind—and luck—had prevailed him.

She looked at everyone. Lana was leaning back in her seat, her head turned slightly to the right—and the doorway. She had been almost as frightened for Vajra as Jasme had been. Probably more so, since the blonde could hide her emotions. Jasme giggled again, softly, and draped a spare blanket over Lana’s shoulders. It could get cold in here, since Vajra typically set air conditioning to cooler temperatures than most humans were comfortable with.

On the bed in front of the Sith, Vajra looked quite peaceful. For once, his features were not twitching from nightmares.

On the opposite bed, Jakarro slept like he was hibernating. Jasme was certain he’d wake up to even a slight disturbance, but that was from knowing him personally. Looking at him like this, you just couldn’t tell.

Jasme considered fetching the plates on the table, but decided it wasn’t worth the risk of waking these light sleepers. With a final, fond glance, she made her exit.

*

Asmeru,
Three days later

This weather on Asmeru was just a little bit cold for Vajra and Jakarro, but their companions required several layers of clothing for warmth.

“Let me guess, you’re thinking you could settle down here.”

“Why would I settle down someplace that my sisters can’t be comfortable in?”

“Charmer,” Jasme rubbed his hair. “Hmmm. You going to trim this, or do you want to learn how to style it?”

“The latter, I think.”

“Want to try out new things? That’s healthy! I’ll teach you how to braid your hair! Like mom’s!”

Vajra laughed. “Not that kind of style.”

“You sure? You’ll look good in that style.”

“Hmmm. I think not.”

“What are we discussing?” Lana came to them with hot mugs of soup in her hands. It was her turn to cook, and everyone had been looking forward to it. She’d proven adept around the kitchen that day on Manaan, something that Vajra should have expected, given what her parents were.

“Vajra wants a new hairstyle.”

“Does he, now? You’d look good with a loose bun. Or a topknot.”

“I was thinking Master Shan’s hairstyle.”

Lana squinted at Vajra as she gave him his mug. “Hmmm. I don’t see it.”

“Whaaaat!?”

“Sorry, Miss Shan, that seems like a personal preference. He’s already your brother. You don’t need to underline that connection to make it any truer.”

Jasme blinked and giggled. “Looks like we have another charmer over here.”

“I call it as I see it.”

“As do I. Most of the time. What time’s lunch?”

“In an hour. This is to keep you till then.”

What Jasme had meant was, what time’s the meeting. Theron and Lana had finished sifting through the data, and were ready to discuss their next step.

“I guess the fun’s over,” Jasme sighed.

“Or, it could just be beginning,” Lana said with a nasty look. “The Revanites… I want to pound them into the messiest pile of flesh, blood, and bone, then feed them into the trash compactor and laugh as Arkous weeps in the afterlife. I’m going to enjoy every moment of thwarting his filthy coven.”

“You’re scary when you’re like this,” Jasme gulped. “You really hate Arkous now, don’t you?”

“Oh, it’s not all bad,” Lana allowed. “If not for his treachery, I wouldn’t have met our little group. For the first time in my years, I feel like I’m in company I belong with. I’m freer than I’ve ever been before. I’m happy. In fact…” she bit her lip. “I almost dread to think of the day where we succeed, and destroy the Revanites. And I’ll have to say farewell to you all. I’ll miss you greatly, when that day comes. Excuse me.”

“You know what to do, right?” Jasme asked Vajra “Get her to switch sides.”

“I—I can’t do that. The Empire is her home.”

“Then bring us peace, so you can visit her whenever you feel lonely.”

“Jasme…”

“Oh, alright. But I think you should chase her down. Don’t leave her feeling all low and gloomy like that.”

Vajra did as she suggested. He caught up with Lana in the kitchen. She looked up at him inquisitively, and he smiled.

“Need a hand?”

“It’s my turn today. You had yours yesterday.”

“I know… but it’s like you said. We’re on limited time. I’d rather spend as much time with you as I can now… oh!” he stumbled when he realized what he’d said. “I mean… ummm. I thought I could return the favor. Distract you.” Vajra felt himself blushing. Lana took one look at him and blushed too, averting her yellow eyes.

But once she shook off her surprise, she beamed at him. “I’d like that! I really would!”

“Wonderful! What are we making?”

“I was thinking of a pho, given this lovely chill. Perfect for hot, soupy foods. And some dumplings for the appetizer.”

“I can clean and cut the vegetables for you.”

“No. I don’t get to do this often enough, so I demand the right to do this alone. You are going to stand there and look pretty.” She pointed at a spot beside the refrigerator. “And tell me some good stories, if you can manage it.”

Vajra did as she requested. “Got any requests?”

“If… if you can imagine it… something from Raudraksha. From before your time as a Jedi.”

“Alright… I don’t remember very much, unfortunately. Details… they’ve started to blur. All I have are these… tableaus, basically. Settings with some context.”

“How old were you? Four, five years old?”

“Yes.”

“I—I think I remember things from that age. But few. I’ll leave those for later.”

“Right. It’s my turn to share. To preface. Raudra have a terribly skewed gender ratio. Nearly ten women to every man. So a lot of men end up with multiple wives. That’s not me, by the way. I prefer monogamy.”

“Of course. Strangely enough, I was in a polyamorous relationship once. It was sweet, but never again. Another tale for later.”

“Okay. This is something Jasme told me later, as I never thought about it after leaving home. But the women love their sisterhoods, and they’re just as involved in choosing new wives for their husbands as the men are. So, I had three mothers, and six half-sisters. And since life on Raudraksha was communal, it didn’t matter who, if any one of them at all, knew the first thing about raising children. Work got done. Hunters and gatherers brought in food. Artisans and craftsmen used furs, skins, bones, and stones to make things. Smiths made weapons and tools. Teachers and nurses taught and raised children.”

“That sounds like a very efficient group effort model.”

“It was. Though, I don’t think it would work in a more modern society.”

“Of course not.”

“So, right now, a memory I can still remember, clear as day, was when my second-mother Shruthi was teaching the children a new song. It was late in the evening. About… 18:30, I guess? The time when the tents had been pitched for the night, and the adults were building up a bonfire. Some were getting ready to cook.”

“In short, a time when the children need to be kept occupied.”

“Right. You’d be amazed at how hardy people can be, if traveling is their life. From dawn to dusk. We may gain a lot from urban lives, but we sacrifice some things too.”

Lana laughed. “All in all, I’m happy with this lifestyle.”

“So am I. Never could I have dreamed that the stars I stared at as a child each had their own story. Many, their own children. And you or Jasme staring up at a similar night sky, wondering at what lay beyond.”

“We are all united in our wonder, yes?”

“Yes, we are. The sky was pink, orange, and purple. The sun was visible for once, as we were camping in a wide valley. There were a lot of rivers and streams in that area, with meadows and fields full of flowers.”

“So what was the song your second-mother was trying to teach you?”

Vajra took a deep breath and began singing. His tongue stumbled over the words, which displeased him. Disuse had left him rusty in his own native tongue. He needed to practice again… even though he might never see his home ever again. He wanted this one, last tie.

Lana listened as he sang, the rhythm of her cutting became slower, to match the song’s pace. Her head bobbed to the beat, too.

She turned and applauded when he was finished.

“That’s all I can remember,” he said; half apologetic, half sad. “Of the song, or that scene.”

Lana paused her preparation to hold his hand. “I’m sorry,” she said.

“Thank you. I don’t know why I remember this scene above all else. But it’s so vivid! My mother had returned home early from her hunt. She was holding me on her shoulders. My youngest sister, Shreya, was playing with a cat and a ball on a string. My eldest, Trilochana, had also dropped in to babysit. She looked so pretty in her new red dress… and my father was carving me a lovely little toy… everyone was so happy…”

She offered him a tissue. “Here. You’re crying.”

“Really?”

“Really. Don’t worry about it, everyone cries. Why, what’s the matter?”

Vajra had started to tremble with contained excitement. He thought about his family again—and there! It was true! He missed them! He loved them! He even felt their loss, though the pain was nothing compared to the joy of having them back in his heart. This was—this was miraculous!

“They’re coming back!” he exclaimed, grabbing Lana’s hands and bouncing on his feet. “They really are!”

“Who is?” Lana was starting to look really concerned, but trying to share in his enthusiasm.

“What’s going on in here? OOOF!” Vajra picked up Jasme as she entered and twirled her around a couple of times.

“They’re coming back!” he told her excitedly. “The emotions! The ones of my family, the ones Master Oteg wiped away!”

For a moment, Jasme just looked at him. Then her shock turned into pure, unfiltered delight. “WHAT A MIRACLE!”

Vajra turned to Lana, who seemed to be cottoning on to what had happened. Her eyes were wide, and a smile played at her lips. “They’re really coming back?” she asked.

“They are!”

“I’m so glad,” she said, with feeling. She awkwardly—and self-consciously—joined in on Jasme and Vajra’s hug for a moment. Vajra allowed her in at once, but she backed away before they could really get comfortable. She was laughing. They all were.

*

Chapter Text

Theron had no clue why Vajra and the women were in such high spirits, but he didn’t give it much thought.

He was cold, and the piping hot soup was the most inviting thing in the galaxy. It almost didn’t matter that it tasted so good; he’d be grateful if it tasted the same as water. “It’s good!” he told Lana thickly.

“Is that all you have to say?” Jasme demanded. “This poor woman put hours of careful thought and prep into the scrumptious meal before you, and all you can say is ‘it’s good!?’ This is why you don’t have a partner!”

As always, Theron had to stop the thought that came at once every time she brought up the topic. It was true, he yearned for some romance to go with his life. And Jasme noticed, damn her.

“It’s all perfect!” Vajra exclaimed. “The noodles are well cooked, the broth is perfectly seasoned, and the dumplings are so nice and crispy! You’re a very gifted chef!”

“Thank you,” Lana smiled.

“Moving on,” Theron said quickly, noticing that Vajra had more to say. “We’re ready to start our counterattack. Thanks to T7’s diligent slicing, we’ve found seven worlds that have Revanite plots brewing. We have a few names—possibly codenames—but no particulars, so we’ll have to scout around a little first. Discover what these plots are. Two are getting dangerously close their targets, from what I can tell—Jabiim and Falleen. Each is about a month away from completion, and we don’t want to risk taking one at a time. So, we’re splitting up.”

“I’ll take Falleen,” Lana said. “Vajra and T7 can come with me.”

“The rest of us will take Jabiim. We don’t know the specifics of what the Revanites wanted there, but we do have a few names.”

“Do we have a plan for after? Where to meet up, for instance?”

“Not quite. We continue on to other locations in the same group. You and Lana can take Bimmissari, then Praesitlyn. Jakarro will split off and head to Tatooine after we’re done with our second world, Jabiim. Your old rival, Deszam, should be there in three-to-four months’ time.”

<Good! The Implacable Jakarro will settle his score, even if he has to follow him onto that dust ball with two suns!>

“We’ll be sure to give you plenty of water and desert gear,” Theron promised him.

“What about my ship?” Vajra asked. “It’s rather recognizable, even for a Defender Corvette.”

Lana’s brows furrowed in thought. “That’s a good point, actually. Perhaps you could send it to Jedi Kira to look after, for the time being. I hear there’s a nice little DB-900 for sale. We can check it out after lunch.”

“A DB-900?” Theron exclaimed. “That’s terrible!”

“It’s the only thing on the market,” Lana shrugged. “This isn’t exactly a thriving marketplace for ships. It should be good enough for the cover I’m thinking up, and we should be able to get something better once we reach Falleen. At least it’s cheap. Oh, and speaking of costs, we also need to talk about money. All of my official assets are frozen, naturally. But I do have some caches squirreled away, in case of emergencies. A habit from years of working in Intelligence.”

“If only I’d had that luxury,” Theron muttered. “Imperial Intelligence must be paid quite a lot.”

“Sith in Imperial Intelligence get paid quite a lot,” Lana said sadly. “Regular Agents… well, I’d say someone like a Cipher or Watcher might have earned a lot more than I did. But don’t worry; I have seven hundred thousand credits in said caches, as well as non-perishable foods, medicines, disguises, and equipment. It will take me a few days to reach them all, though.”

“And I have two hundred thousand,” Vajra said, surprising everyone. “Within reach, I mean. A part of it is for the extra-cozy vacation Master Kiwiiks wanted me to have, the rest is surplus. I upgraded the Garuda a few months ago, a total overhaul. The Council offered to foot the bill. My request to return the excess seems to have gotten lost in the paperwork. It’s all in liquid assets, so we can use it without having it traced back to us.”

“I have almost five hundred thousand credits,” Jasme said. “Tiarna Kaimeryn gave it to me as thanks for turning her archives into a ballroom for bibliophiles. I hope it’s still the way I left it. Maybe I can show you, some day.”

<The Ever-Prepared Jakarro has a hundred and fifty thousand in precious stones and minerals aboard his ship, in case of emergencies.>

“So that’s a total of over 1.5 million,” Theron looked astonished. “That’s a bigger budget than a lot of big missions I’ve been sent on!”

“The problem with big budgets, is that people tend to get carried away,” Lana said. “To go on a spending spree, assuming the money lasts forever. While I won’t begrudge anyone their comfort shopping, it might be best to have someone watching the outflow. We can assign treasurers in each group. Vajra in ours, and Jasme in yours.”

“Why me?”

“Not to put too fine a point on it, I expect T7 and I could get really busy with the data. You’re not trained for espionage, so I’m expecting you might have a bit more free time than us.”

“Oh! I get it. That’s really smart.”

“Thank you. And sorry if I made you feel less valued.”

“No, no! I understand the importance of support staff. It’s a nice change. I won’t let you down.”

Lana snorted. “I know you won’t. That’s why I’m giving you so much control over my money.”

“Thank you. I’m touched.”

“Don’t act like you aren’t generously sharing your own wealth,” Theron grumbled. “You gave me fifty thousand back on Carrick Station, remember? And, if my math holds, you’re giving us a hundred thousand now.” He sighed sadly. “As the only one not contributing to our war chest, I’m feeling inadequate, here. I need to supplement my income, once my name’s been cleared. Maybe pay you all back over time.”

Lana frowned thoughtfully. “Theron, from what little I’ve learned about your record, I think you’re entitled to some major bonuses, bounties, and grants. Have you ever asked your superiors if you were eligible for any?”

Theron looked shocked. “Um. No! No, I haven’t.”

“You should. And you should put in for a raise every time you do something of note. Or every year. I take it you’re the sort of man who never considers he might be worth more than he’s earning.”

Vajra looked down. He’d never considered such a thing, himself. He was very lucky that people around him tended to be happy enough to foist rewards onto him.

“But I have to say, I’m really intrigued by your little story,” Lana told Jasme. “I knew you were her prisoner for a while, and her Archivist, but I had no idea the Tiarna had gone and given you such a rich reward! Even by her standards, that’s quite a hefty sum!”

“That’s the least of it, honestly. She gave me a ton of books, and this.” Jasme held up her magnificent artwork of a Lightsaber hilt. “She was good to me. And she didn’t have to be.”

“Perhaps we can clear her soon,” Lana said wistfully. “She’d be a wonderful ally in this fight.”

“I want to meet her too.” Vajra pulled a medallion out of the folds of his robe.

“What’s that?” Theron asked suspiciously.

“Tiarna Rooks sent me this for breaking Angral. Apparently, he tried to force her to marry him when he found out her mother died. And he began acting like the new Lord Rooks. She declared a Kaggath out of anger, but never got the chance to settle the score.”

“And a Kaggath is… oh right. A ritual duel.”

“Right. She was happy to see him so badly disgraced, so she gave me a token of her gratitude. And over the years, I heard a lot of good things about her. I’ve been wanting to meet her for a long time.”

“I hope you get your chance, soon,” Lana told him fervently. “She’s got a mesmerizing presence. The first time I saw her, I just…”

“I know what you mean,” Jasme laughed.

“Vajra’s got his own presence,” Lana said, tilting her head. “Like staring off a mountain, at a lush river valley. And Jasme’s like a flowery meadow full of music, rainbows, sunshine, and dancing.”

“Awww that’s so sweet of you.” Jasme hugged the surprised Sith. “I was right. You’re another charmer.”

Lana giggled, which almost made Vajra blush again. She caught his eye and smiled.

Theron seemed absorbed in his thoughts. “You know, you just raised a good point. We need to make it a priority to clear prominent officials, citizens, and leaders. If we can convince any of them to share our burdens—”

“There are those I feel we can trust. Darth Marr, and Master Shan. And we’re already trusting Kira.”

“Not enough. We need people like Jasme, people who know a lot of others, but don’t have eyes on them.”

“Maybe Var Suthra, or Garza? Or Elara Dorne. Captains Stede or Kraot.”

“Grand Moff Resh, Darth Xarion, Moff Pyron, and the former Minister of Intelligence.”

“Either way. Keep an eye out.”

“Got it.”

Theron finished the rest of his soup in one go. “It seems we’ve covered all relevant points. I’ll start getting my gear ready.”

“So will I,” Lana said, standing up. “Vajra, please finish your portion. I’ll wait for you, alright?”

“Alright.”

*

Two hours later

Vajra was speaking to Kira as Lana led him to the dealer who was selling the DB-900. His whispers were barely audible over the wind.

“I’m not sure I like this, boss.”

“It’s not like I’m giving you the Garuda. Just take care of him for me for a few months. Use it to get around.”

“Alright. But you will keep me posted on your search, won’t you? I hate when you’re working on something this big without me.”

“I promise I’ll be fine.”

“Good thing you always keep your promises. I want you there for my wedding. And to be my children’s godfather. No, we don’t have a date yet, but getting there.”

“I need to hear about that.”

“In person. Take it or leave it.”

“Deal. I’m sending Garuda your way now. All three droids too.”

“See you later, Boss. You’re making this up to me.”

“Of course I am.”

“It’s sweet, how close you are to her and Jasme,” Lana said. “I wonder if most potential partners get intimidated by their presence.”

“I haven’t traveled with them since killing the Emperor.”

“Really? I thought you and Kira were a team?”

“We were. But refugee resettlement is not a team assignment.”

“I see. Good thing we’re not on resettlement duty then. I quite enjoy your company.”

“And I, yours. You’re fun!”

“Thank you!”

The Mirialan selling the freighter was shifty, and the ship looked like a piece of junk. But T7 deemed it spaceworthy. After some haggling, Lana managed to buy it for 6000 credits. She hoped she could sell it for at least three quarters of that.

“So where are your caches located?” Vajra asked.

“Two of them are on remote listening posts in the Hydian way, and another in an abandoned asteroid mining station near the Corellian system. A fourth is on Hutta, and the fifth is on Taris. We’re going to go to all of them.”

“Isn’t that a bit much? We can do just fine with a hundred thousand for Falleen.”

“Perhaps… perhaps not. I like being prepared.”

“Got it.” Vajra looked around the small ship, clearly disappointed by the lack of space.

“You wish you had space to train, don’t you?”

“It’s alright. I need a rest day, anyway.”

“Starting to take control of your own health again? That’s the spirit! At least we have enough bunks here, and the fresher isn’t too bad.”

He looked at the bunks and smiled. “Yeah. Lots of bunks. So, should I begin warming up the engines?”

“Of course. I can help you. I know how to fly.”

“Really? Then maybe you should take the helm. You are the one with the coordinates, after all.”

“If you say so. T7? Would you mind manning the Astromech station?”

Vajra took the copilot’s seat and began activating each system. Lana hailed flight control.

“This is Freighter 907BDTh701, requesting permission to take off.”

‘Permission granted. Thank you for coming to Asmeru. We hope you warm our town again, sometime. Have a safe flight.”

“That was a nice sendoff,” Lana remarked.

“I guess they really like spacers here.”

“Clearly.”

“So… ‘Captain’ Lana?”

She groaned. “I hate titles.”

“Captain it is.”

“Do that, and I will call you ‘O great Jedi Marshal’ for the rest of our partnership.”

Vajra laughed. “You hate titles more than I do. ‘Captain’ it is.”

Lana decided to switch tactics. “Please don’t call me that. I’ll give you… I’ll give you my last pack of sour cream and cheese crisps!”

“Well… with a bribe like that…”

“You’ll do it?”

“Normally I need at least five packets and a soda. But for you, I will sell for cheap.”

“Oh, thank you!” She said, pumping his hand in exaggerated gratitude. They both had a laugh.

“Anything for you.”

“All set for the jump?”

“All we need, is your command.”

“Inputting coordinates… calculating Hyperspace route… punch it!”

*

Chapter Text

Listening post in the Hydian Way

“This is a nice place,” Vajra said out loud. “Is there a light switch?”

“Of course. You don’t think I like feeling my way around in the dark, did you?”

“Well… Sith do have this fascination with ‘dark,’ don’t they? ‘Dark Lord,’ ‘Dark Citadel,’ ‘Dark Temple…’ not to mention all the Darth names.”

Lana giggled. She hit the light switch, and a rather ordinary storehouse was illuminated with soft light. “One of many reasons why I’ll never accept a title of my own.”

“Weird question. If someone put a gun to your head, and demanded you take a Darth name. What would it be?”

“Hmm. Interesting question. Can I answer that later?”

“Of course.”

“Under a simple condition. You have to answer that too.”

Vajra tilted his head. “Oh… alright. That does sound fun.” He chuckled. “Do you know there’s this weird quiz in some holonet sites for ‘What would your Sith name be’?”

“I know. I also know there’s a holonet quiz for ‘Which Jedi is most likely to break their vows for you.’ The quiz is structured so fewer than 0.005% get Master Shan, and even fewer get the great hero Vajra Devarath.”

“Really? That’s hilarious! Why haven’t I ever gotten that one?”

“Did you take the Sith name quiz?”

“No. I felt kinda guilty.”

Lana was amused. “Really? For taking a joke quiz?”

“Yeah! So which Jedi is most likely to—”

“I… didn’t take that either. I was afraid I’d end up getting someone like Kaedan. Maybe I should. But I did take the ‘what would your lightsaber color be?’ It was forest green, of all things!”

“Like the color of your robes?”

Lana almost stumbled and looked down at her robes. She turned a scowl at Vajra. “Don’t you dare!”

“It does look good on you.”

The Sith smirked. “Really? This is purely functional, Master Jedi. It’s one of four robes that I’ve worn to work, day in and out, for years. Sometimes, I’ve spent two or three days continuously in them during particularly hectic weeks. These clothes are… worn out. Dull, faded. They don’t look good on anyone!”

“Then maybe you make them look good. Could I buy you some new clothes, sometime?”

“Thanks, but only after we know we’re good for some frivolous spending. Not to worry, I have a lot of nice clothes tucked away in here. Even a few very nice clothes.”

“I’ll need some new clothes for myself as well—”

“I’ve got a lot of free-size items here. You can have your pick.”

“You sure about that? A cute girl should be careful who looks through her wardrobe.”

“I’m not cute,” Lana said with dignity. “I’m deadly.”

“You’re both.”

“I’m just like you, then. And you’re not just anyone, you’re a good man.”

“It must be true if you and Jasme are both saying that. Maybe I should look for ribbons for my bun.”

“What color? No, wait. Blue-green, just like your primary saber.”

“Nice!”

“But seriously, don’t pick out ribbons. You want to look less conspicuous, not more. Now, come on. Pick your clothes. I’ll get all the equipment out, then the safe. We’ll discuss our cover later.”

“Or we could discuss our cover now, so I know what kind of clothes to choose.”

Lana didn’t need to think before nodding. “Alright. Come with me, I’ll give you your equipment.”

“My equipment?”

“Yes. A Raudra is… a rarity, to put it mildly. You stand out in most crowds. Anyone who wants to find you, will find you. You do a good job keeping your secondary pair of arms hidden from view, but I’d like to add another layer to the disguise. And of course, you’ll get a pair of blasters, vibroswords, a stealth field generator. A full pack, too.”

She pulled out a wristband for him. Vajra put it on, and saw his hands change color.

“It’s basic right now, and meant for me. It can’t properly cover up your defining features for you. I’ll reprogram it later. Or, perhaps T7 should. He’ll be much faster.”

“So, I’m to masquerade as a human?”

“Yes. There are a lot of humans in the galaxy. No one looks at us twice. Even on a world like Falleen, we’re quite common. T7, be a dear and get started, would you? Make him a generic human. Blonde hair, blue eyes, modestly handsome with no distinguishing features. You can make him a little more filled out than he is too. And hide the extra pair of arms, unless they’re in use.”

<Acknowledged.>

“You’ve been to Falleen?” Vajra asked as T7 took the armband to a workstation.

“Yes. It’s got all kinds of crowds, from the austere to pleasure-seekers. And beings from all over the galaxy aren’t uncommon, especially humans, Twi’leks, Zeltrons, Gamorreans, Weequay, and Nikto. Now as to our cover; I’ll forge the documents before we leave. The equipment here should help us do so in an hour. I’m the small-time scoundrel and pirate named Rosetta Wolf, and you’re my partner. Pick a name.”

Vajra was caught off-guard. “I—John Johnson?”

Lana laughed. “Would you like me to do it?”

“Yes, please!”

She thought for a moment. “Galahad Knave. ‘Gale’ for short.”

“Can you just call me ‘Knave’?”

She laughed. “So be it. So… your job—official, and cover—is to watch my back as I make deals and meet people. Leave the intel gathering to me.” She began looking for other items before continuing. “How good are you at spotting or Sensing eyes on us? Not threats in general, but observers?”

“Good, but not perfect.”

“You’ll get better with practice. And don’t worry; I’ll put your real skills to good use too. And find us a place where you can train a few hours a day unnoticed.”

“Thank you.”

“Other than that, just keep me entertained, like you’re doing now. If nothing else, make cute faces.” She stared at him with a grin. “You’re my professional eye candy now.”

“I live to eye candy.”

Lana laughed again, almost missing the box her fingers were grasping for. “Now, as for our biographies. I’ll prepare a longer, more complete version after I’m done with our credentials, but do you have any questions with the basics?”

“Umm. No.”

“Right. In addition, for the ease of the mission, it might be better to play lovers.”

“Excuse me?”

Lana was blushing furiously. “Do you trust me?”

“Yes. Without reserve.”

She smiled ruefully. “A mistake we’ll deal with, another time. I’m a very bad girl. For now, thank you. I’m not used to being trusted. There are some places in the galaxy where a man and woman sticking as close to each other as we’re going to, raises eyebrows. Much more sense if we’re romantically involved. In addition, it’s easier to eavesdrop on people who think we’re too lost in each other’s eyes to be paying attention. It’ll also allow us endless opportunities to pretend we’re having long, sweet chitchats while we’re actually comparing notes. Of course, this puts to rest any chance of me employing my feminine wiles for intel and favors, were I someone who knew the first thing about seduction in the first place. All in all, I think the benefits outweigh the risks. What’s the matter?”

Vajra sighed. “Lana… since we’re here…”

Her eyes widened when he trailed off awkwardly. She blushed a deep crimson. “We’re here, indeed, aren’t we?” She cleared her throat, suddenly looking regretful for having brought up the topic.

“What Jasme says is true. I have quite the deep-seated crush on you. Maybe more than that. You’re decisive, intelligent, patient, considerate, wise, beautiful—”

“I’m not beautiful.”

“You are, to me. Striking, even. In a room full of Sateles, Jasmes, Kiras, and more, you’d still draw the eye. You can make yourself heard in a noisy room without raising your voice. What’s more… I find everything about you so… captivating. And familiar. Like we’ve met before, in some long-forgotten dream. I feel like I’ve known you for years already, and I wouldn’t mind… well, I wouldn’t mind erm. Trying something.”

She looked uncomfortable. “The feeling… it’s mutual. To be quite honest… I was apprehensive about the two of us working this side of the mission. I’m… I’m quite afraid of what will happen if we…”

“So am I. But… but I don’t want to be. I want to enjoy your company without worrying about whether I’m being too familiar. I want to be of use to you. I want to hear you laugh, and talk about everything that makes you happy—”

“You make me happy,” she said, and bit her lip. “And please don’t talk about what use you are to me. I’ve been used as a tool and pawn since I was fifteen. I’ll never do it to someone I care about. If you’re bad at social stealth, I’ll just teach you what I can. Or find a different task for you.”

“And… and I want to hold you every now and then. We have these moments where we’re quite comfortable with each other, but then they slip away. Maybe… maybe if we accept our feelings, if we allow ourselves to enjoy the moment, maybe that comfort can last longer.”

“I… I’d like that. And anything else we can steal, together. The thought of—the thought of being with you… of enjoying your company without reserve… of exotic dates, and romantic getaways, and holding your hand while walking into a sunset on some colorful garden paradise… of taking on the whole galaxy together, just the two of us… and more… it makes my head spin. I want you so badly, it’s driving me crazy.”

“Really?” Vajra smiled, feeling giddy with excitement and relief. He thought he might need to sit down. “Thank you. What do you see in me, anyway? It can’t be my fame.”

“I—” she looked conflicted. “It’s complicated. But I know you, rather better than I’ve been letting on. I know who you are behind that mask and veil of the Republic’s greatest champion. I know the problems you’ve faced since arriving on Tython at fourteen. I know about your suicide attempt, and your troubles with mental health. I know many of the stories of your kindness and compassion. I know something of what you suffered under the Emperor’s care. And—as Master Satele said—it took great courage to stand up again, so soon after you escaped. I couldn’t have done it. Few could’ve. But you did, and I think I know why. I know how deeply you love, and how hard you fight for those you do. To be honest… I’ve always yearned to be loved like that, myself. And you’re funny, too. More intelligent than others would believe. And you have a thirst to learn and grow.”

“You can’t have got all that from Nine’s report. How do you know so much about me?”

“I—I can’t answer that question right now.”

“It’s alright. You don’t have to.”

“Thank you. I will, someday, if I have my way. I’m sure you’ve noticed this by now, but us Intelligence types are very scared to reveal our secrets. Even to the ones we love and trust. In short, I find you attractive as a person, not a hero. I have for quite some time now. If you really do want to try a real relationship with me…”

“Yes,” Vajra said, smiling wide. “Yes! Oh… wait…”

“What’s the matter?” Lana looked concerned that he was having second thoughts, but that wasn’t it.

“This is one of those times when the old Jedi dictum should apply. ‘Do or do not; there is no try.’ I’m not going to ‘try’ in this relationship, like I have one foot out the door already, expecting the house to fall apart. I’m in this, 100%. I believe it will work out, because I believe we’re both people who can make it work.” He coughed. “That’s cheesy, isn’t it? I’m sorry.”

Lana’s eyes were so wide, they looked ready to pop. Her face lit up, like a moon reflecting sunlight. “That’s… that’s thank you. I really appreciate that resolve. I have no choice but to match it, don’t I?” She laughed. “100%. I’m all in. And no, I didn’t find that cheesy at all.”

“Really?”

“Yes!”

Vajra took her hands and pulled her closer. She released his hands for a moment and hastily cast off her gloves before accepting his hands back in hers. They were cold and soft, but supercharged the receptors on his palms and fingers. The skin of his palms felt extra sensitive to stimulation today. It was eager to flare up his nervous system every time her hands shifted in his, or even when he happened to hear her heart beat faster from her own emotions.

Furthermore, at this proximity, Vajra was pulled into the world behind her eyes, a whole universe which was magnificently and judiciously constructed, but whose understanding would be the subject of several years’ worth of study.

He felt and saw her own reactions to their little moment, pleased that he had a similar effect on her as she did on him.

They both giggled every few seconds, quite content with this simple, innocent, first act of intimacy. After several minutes of just holding hands, he leaned in and pressed his forehead against hers.

“This… this is so cute,” Lana giggled. “I’ve been in several relationships before; there’s no reason I should be starting off so shy and unsure! You have to be the only adult in the galaxy who could pull this off with your partner!”

“I am a simple, inexperienced man,” Vajra agreed. “Don’t worry. I’ll learn quickly.”

They gently released each other, still smiling, still blushing and giggling. “Allow me to reintroduce myself. My name is Vajra Devarath, and I’m madly in love with you.”

“Ooo my!” Lana fanned herself. “I’m feeling hot in here. Did the air conditioning break?” Leaning against his chest, she reciprocated his declaration. “It’s nice to meet you, Vajra Devarath. My name is Lana Beniko, and I’m deeply in love with you too.”

“Let’s have some fun working undercover.”

“Yes, let’s.”

“I’d like to start practicing.”

Lana raised an eyebrow and gave him her most mischievous smile. “‘Practicing,’ eh?”

“Yes. I want you as comfortable with me as you can be. May I kiss you?”

“We’ll get there. First, I’d like to have a date and dance with you.”

“Well, I do hope you have a stereo and some space here.”

“No, my Love. We’re going to have our first kiss after our first, real date.”

“You can be suitably pushy when you want to, can’t you?”

“If I’m going to be a romantic, I’m going to have my romance. A whirlwind of it, you hear me?” she dug a finger in his chest playfully. “You’re going to give me a tempest, Child of the Storm!”

He swept her up in his arms, quite neatly taking the wind out of her sails. “Does this feel different with four arms?” he asked.

“I—How would I know?” she stuttered. “No one’s ever picked me up before, like a sack of potatoes!”

“Not a sack of potatoes, but a bag of flowers and kittens. They haven’t?! What an outrage! On behalf of everyone in the galaxy, I’m deeply sorry! You deserve to be pampered, O Princess!”

Lana tittered uncontrollably. “That’s right! This is the attention I never knew I craved! I think I’ll take that kiss now, after all!”

Vajra complied. His lips pressed into her soft, heart-shaped ones for a moment, resulting in an explosion of stimulation that sent shivers and sparkles through his veins. Vajra distinctly got this feeling that, for the first time ever, he and the universe was exactly where they were supposed to be. He felt desire turn to love and joy, and something washed over him that left him experiencing each individual kiss like it was a roller coaster ride. Old instincts seemed to take over Lana then, and she took his face in her hands and pushed deeper into the kiss.

Her tongue entered his mouth, and gently played with his. She moaned softly, and her voice lingered in his ears.

Vajra suddenly felt his joints go weak then, and stumbled and fell backwards. It was only years of combat training that allowed him to fall without hurting either himself or his lover. Unperturbed by the sudden fall, Lana sat on top of him and continued the kiss for another minute before halting. She was gasping for breath when she was done, but it was nothing like Vajra’s hunger for air.

“You’re… you’re… you’re so good at kissing!” he managed.

“Good. You’re going to learn from the best.” She kissed him again. Fierce, brief, ending in a playful nip on his nose. “In just a few days, you’re going to learn to take this much. Alright?”

“Alright!”

“Good. We can’t have you fainting every time I kiss you on the job. Now that I have incentive, I intend to do so often. And we’re going to have that first date. One of my caches is close to Corellia. Once we get there, maybe we can head to Corfai; there’s this quaint, semi-isolated orchard town there that I always wanted to visit, and it’s the perfect season for it. And we have time.”

“Why? Why’s it the perfect season? Is it harvest time?”

“Yes. The festival is… well, my parents heard about it from a traveler friend, and visited it a few years after I was inducted into the Order. They were so full of praise for it that…” A sweet, wistful look crossed her face.

“I think it’s time to meet them again. Incognito.”

“Once we unmask the Revanites.”

“Sure.”

“Come on, now. I’ve gotten all excited! Let’s finish securing the rest of our budget. I can’t wait for that date!”

*

Chapter Text

Valla del Citron,
Corfai

Lana went an extra mile with her makeup today. She began with a light touch of bronzer to make her near-vampiric skin look healthier. She used a richer shade of red for her lipstick and rouge, and peacock blue eye shadow and nail polish. She washed and brushed her hair till it gleamed like her mother’s used to, and attached hair extensions to make it appear longer. She applied one of her subtler, floral perfumes, never having been a fan of the heavier velvet products that Mercy had favored.

She used colored lenses to turn her eyes green, wishing she didn’t have to hide, just this once.

And for her outfit, she chose comfortable clothes for a change. Loose-fitting, long-sleeved, beige blouse with a green sash around her waist, atop which went her belt with three pouches. She chose a pair of bluish-gray trousers to match one of her most prized possessions; a scarf of the same color, with an ivory clasp. She wondered if she was being too brazen with this choice of accessory, for Vajra had given this one to Mercy. She doubted he’d recognize it, however. His memory was good, but not like Theron’s, Jasme’s, or her own. Even if he did, he was likely to chalk it down to coincidence.

But she couldn’t help herself. Especially now that they were a couple—going on their first real date, no less! —she absolutely had to wear this accessory.

Maybe I’m looking at this the wrong way. So what, if he realizes? Maybe I should even tell him, myself! Maybe… the thought frightened her, as it left her open to a world of hurt. What if he was hurt by the revelation, or angered? What if he resented being lied to? He religiously sent messages every week to Mercy, to which he received brief but fond replies. How would he react, if he knew the truth?

She’d gotten too used to the lie, she realized sadly. I will tell him, she decided resolutely. Maybe not today, but… someday. Perhaps on the day we accomplish our mission with the Revanites. Yes. Yes, that’s a good idea.

She forced her attention back in the mirror. She wanted this day to be perfect. Mostly because of Vajra, but she’d been also looking forward to this low-key festival that had so charmed her parents.

I’ll be sure to put everything in my journal before turning in, she decided. And send it to them as soon as I clear my name. No… I’ll meet them. In person. I—I think I’ll introduce Vajra to them. As my boyfriend. They’re bound to be happy, given Balmorra.

She finished her look with the same boots she’d worn on Manaan to finish her disguise—the one that Theron had managed to see through. Then she took a deep breath and stepped out to begin her date.

*

Vajra nervously waited for Lana to emerge from the room they’d rented for the day. He’d done his best to look good for this date, seeking out a stylist to add some life to his starved face. This felt like the first he truly understood how bad he looked, and he made a mental note to look at least a little better for his second date.

For now, the stylist’s attempts had to be enough. His hair was done up in a nice middle parting, with locks tied loosely at the back. A facial to make his gaunt cheeks appear healthier. And just a bit of makeup too. He was a little hesitant with that last part, never having done it before, but he wanted to give Lana the best day he could.

Once the droid assured him he looked much better now, Vajra changed into the most fashionable outfit he’d selected from Lana’s stash. They obviously weren’t meant for a four-armed being like himself, but they’d decided it was best to hide those anyway. Tucking his spare arms behind his back, he pulled on a baggy, sleeveless turtleneck; yellow, like Lana’s hair and eyes. He chose an amber set of harem pants, and draped a stole of the same color around his neck, and dark boots. He felt naked without his mask and Lightsabers, but decided to forego them nonetheless. He tied a second stole, red this time, around his waist, then strapped his belt to it.

Once he was ready, he returned to meet up with Lana. He was quite impressed with her sense of timing; he only had to wait a few minutes for her to emerge.

*

“Hope I didn’t keep you waiting too long,” Lana apologized. “I ended up ruminating a little.” She frowned at the lack of response, and turned to look at her boyfriend head-on. She had a split second to register that he was staring at her, mouth agape, before she was herself stupefied by his makeover.

“Wha—”

“Lana—”

“You look gorgeous!” they both blurted out at the same time.

“You more,” Vajra insisted. He walked around her, taking in the vision standing before him.

Lana recovered slightly, and twirled slightly to give him a more dynamic turnaround. Her hair spun around her head, which she hoped made her look just a little sexier. “Like it?” she asked.

“Definitely!”

“Your turn.”

Vajra obliged, and pirouetted slowly in place as Lana ogled him. “Oh, my!” Lana giggled. “You did a fantastic job dressing up for me!” She leaned in closer. “One day… I’m going to unwrap my present.” She kissed his adam’s apple and hugged him.

He returned the hug, pulling her tightly into his chest. He kissed her temple and whispered “I’m the one who was given the present here!”

“Most women in the world would disagree with you, my love. Beautiful people are a dime a dozen. Heroes with your credentials are one of a kind. No one else could have saved us from Vitiate.”

“That doesn’t make me good boyfriend material.”

“It sort of does, especially coupled with the fact that you’re still in your early twenties. In fact, the more I think about it, the luckier I feel.” She smacked his bottom. “Come on, now. I want to sample the festivities. And you.”

“Have an appetizer then.” Vajra dipped his head for another kiss before returning the smack. “I promise I’ll get a bottom like yours for you to fondle, someday soon.”

Lana’s eyebrows rose, and she beamed wide. “That is such a wonderful promise! And my, that spank!” She rubbed her rear. “I see I chose your name well. A knave, is exactly what you are. What’s wrong?”

“That word tickles my memory for some reason. ‘Knave.’ I like it.”

“See? I’m good at this!”

“Of course, you are. One of the many reasons why you’re the best prize in the galaxy!”

*

Vajra had done some homework when Lana told him their destination.

I need to thank Jasme for her backdoor to our Archives!

Valla del Citron was a major trade port once, millennia ago. It was just another farm and orchard town now, famous for its citrus trees, apricots, and apples, as well as the brandies made from these fruits.

Today was its famous yearly harvest season. Every civilization had a harvest season, but Vala del Citron’s canopied markets were a beautiful place for a week-long celebration. They were in the flattest portion of the town—the narrow river valley, whose river boasted dozens of pretty waterfalls within a thirty-kilometer radius. The buildings were all made of wood, and had been rebuilt in the old style and architecture whenever the old ones were in need of reconstruction.

The rest of the town was built on the steep hills and cliffs surrounding the valley. They were built of the same wood as the marketplace, and had lovely, carved staircases connecting the many cottages. There were covered terraces and balconies at regular intervals, each with their own unique views of the valley. Many had statues or artworks. All of them had a lounge with a vending machine and jukebox. There were no holoprojectors to be found anywhere. The furniture and décor held a warm, rustic charm.

There were cable cars connecting the market to the highest peaks around the hills, and each peak to at least three others. Old-fashioned lifts allowed for easy access to the many-tiered town.

The whole world was bright and sunny, though thankfully, quite cool. The river’s cleanliness was strictly maintained, so the breeze channeled along the valley was pleasant on both the skin and the olfactory.

The trees were planted all over the valley and hills, including the slopes themselves. The farmers worked hard to harvest their yield each year, and folk all looked like hardworking farmers.

And they offered a wide variety of foods and beverages made using their fruits. Their brandy and curacao were delicious, and many stalls were offering tiny glasses at modest costs.

Vajra could easily see Lana’s eagerness to go on a tasting spree. She took her hand in his, and pulled him from one stall to the next. Many couples shared their sips, so Vajra and Lana felt nothing stopping them from doing the same. It was an interesting experience, tasting flavored kisses. Vajra honestly couldn’t tell if it was the spirits heating his face and leaving him dizzy, or the smooches. Lana herself seemed to need his support to walk after each one, though he suspected from her sly smiles that she was merely seizing a ripe opportunity; and enjoying herself in the process.

They also purchased the smallest available platters and skewers in each food stall, so they’d be able to experience a wider range of tastes. They fed each other with their forks, and sometimes shared bites, which ended in yet more quick kisses.

“Such a cute couple you two make!” a grandmotherly little Twi’lek sighed. The three Twi’leks with her—her children, in all probability—nodded fervently.

“Thank you,” Vajra said, as Lana pretended to blush and hide her face against his chest. “That’s so kind of you to say!”

“Here,” the eldest, a son, said. He pressed a pair of small amulets into their hands. “For luck.”

“Thank you!” Vajra beamed at him.

“Don’t mention it. We don’t advertise our festival to keep it private, but we love the small crowd of outsiders who happen to stop by each year.”

“We hope you enjoy yourselves,” a daughter said.

“Thank you, we are!”

“Show me that,” Lana said excitedly, taking the amulet in her hand. “Wow! I’ve seen carvings like these before! Twi’leks gather these and add them to their heirlooms, the ones called—”

“Kalikori!”

“That’s right!” Lana laughed. “Though they have been known to give such gifts to outsiders, sometimes. That’s a truly generous family, to have just given us such a lovely token of appreciation!”

“I think these ones reads ‘prosperity, love, and happiness’” Vajra looked at them.

“Do they?” Lana looked delightedly. “We’ve got to give them something in return later!”

“I have just the thing,” Vajra said thoughtfully.

“Yes, those statuettes we picked up from my cache for this kind of situation.”

“I also have that painting I just completed. I still have it in my pack. It’s not a Pezanti, but—”

“But it’s lovely,” Lana finished. “Besides, if it ever comes out who gave them that painting, that alone will make their descendants famous.”

“Well—”

Lana laughed at his surprised response and kissed him. “You’re famous. You know that, right?”

“Not here, thankfully.”

“Yes. Yes; here, we can have a moment with almost no masks or disguises.”

“And I’m grateful. I’m so, very grateful…”

“Come on. Let’s see if we can’t get more compliments about how cute a couple we are, shall we?”

The visited several parks where local theater groups were showing plays. Others had a live band playing energetic music that they and many others danced to. Lana, Vajra soon found out, was a wonderful dancer.

“Everyone’s watching at us,” Lana whispered during the last bar. “I think we’re stealing the show!” She kissed him right after that observation; a deep kiss that lasted almost a minute. Their spectators cheered wildly.

“At this rate, I won’t have any more breath for you to take,” Vajra gasped.

“You’re the one stealing my lines,” Lana panted back furiously. “Why are you so bloody perfect?”

“Ummm. Coz otherwise, I wouldn’t deserve you?”

“Ah, so you admit that you’re perfect then?”

“You admit you deserve the best? And to be happy?”

“No one wins this round.”

Vajra didn’t let her pull away, instead drawing her closer for the next dance, this one a closer, more romantic waltz. “I still don’t think I’m perfect. However, you make me feel like I am.”

Lana chuckled. “And you make me feel like I deserve to be happy.” She sighed and leaned her head against his chest. “And believe me, I’m happy.”

“I couldn’t tell.”

“Hmmm.”

“Umm. Lana?”

“Yes?”

“You got something on your nose.”

“Damn! What is it?”

He kissed her upturned nose and grinned at her slyly.

*

They sat down in the large, open tent for lunch. There was a surprising variety of foodstuffs, considering how isolated this town was.

“Here, try this,” Lana said, feeding him a piece of cutlet skewered on her fork.

“Tastes like—apples?”

“Yes! Apples! And yet—”

“Yet it works!”

“Exactly! It’s no wonder Papa loved this place. This cutlet alone would’ve broken his beliefs about cooking!”

“I can see someone’s going to be experimenting, when she next gets the chance.”

“You’d better believe it! I have great pride in my culinary skills.”

Vajra laughed. “I’m only a decent cook. I’m afraid I don’t have many skills, not counting martial ones.”

“You’re a fantastic dancer, thanks to that. Best I’ve ever seen, actually.”

“Really? Thanks!”

“And it’s fine, not being a master of every skill you possess. You still boast quite a wide variety of them. I had no idea you could read Twi’leki.”

“I can read and write in thirty-two different languages.”

“And you can converse in… how many, eighty-three?”

“Eighty-eight. It gets easier as you learn more. Brain adapts, I think.”

“I know twenty-two, but I have my implant. It’s a wonderful resource, but it has its drawbacks too.”

“I thought you’d hate using a crutch like that.”

“I’m a pragmatist, my Knave. I have very limited levels of energy throughout the day, and I must triage it to what’s important. I cannot waste time learning skills the old-fashioned way, unless I have no other choice.”

“Everyone says that,” Vajra sighed. “I suppose I should really get one too—”

“Actually, you shouldn’t. Your physiology is different from mine. From most other species. There’s a good chance a standard implant will be incompatible with your brain. I suspect it won’t help you understand other languages at all, while giving you crippling migraines every time you’re in a room with more than three languages being spoken. You’ll need a very custom-built version of a language implant. And I’d rather you didn’t give out your charts to just anybody. It might put a target on Raudraksha, if certain parties knew how remarkable your people were.”

“Wow… I never thought about that!”

“Yes. It’s incredible how your own stubborn pride protected you, in this instance. But don’t think that’ll happen too often. Pride, is still pride.”

“Got it. I’ll be more careful.”

“Thank you.”

Soon after lunch, the couple ended up taking a nap on together, on a nearby patch of grass beneath the shade of a tall tree.

*

It was late in the evening when they finally finished their long day, by which time Lana was quite tipsy. She was giggly and loud, and spoke in an older, poetic intonation and vocabulary. Vajra followed her amusedly as she tried to walk in a straight line.

“You know we can take the cable cars, right?” he asked her.

“Nonsense, I say!” she declared. “Dost thou think I need such a contrivance? Thou think I cannot walk on mine own two feet?”

“The car will have quite the view.”

“Walk in front of me, Knave, if thou wish to ‘give me a view’ such that the minstrels sing of.”

“If I walk in front of you, who will catch you the next time you trip?”

She looked at him accusingly. “Thou will, of course; for tis thy duty to protect thy lady. Use the Force.”

I’m recording this for later, just so you know.

“I like not how thou giggle so.”

“I love seeing you like this.”

She beckoned him over. “Come. Thy lady needs assistance. My feet ache like a they have been beaten by bags filled with rocks.”

“One Vajra transportation service, ready to roll.” He picked her up in his arms and began to climb.

She pointed forward and said in a resolute voice: “Onward, my Knave! Onward to the stars and beyond!”

She was lulled to sleep by the rocking motion of his walk, and he felt content with her head nestled against his neck. He was almost certain she was a little less drunk than she was pretending to be, merely letting herself go in a way she perhaps hadn’t, for a long time.

It was the cutest thing ever, and it made his heart throb.

It’s a shame the day’s almost over.

At least they had a little more to enjoy today.

He nudged her awake as he started climbing the last staircase before the top. “I’m awake,” she said alertly. And in her regular tone.

“Good. We’re at the peak.”

“Really?” She looked around eagerly and gasped. “Such a beautiful view!”

“Just so you know, all I can see, is you. And I agree.”

Laughing, she slapped his chest lightly.

“But seriously… this place is a hidden gem!”

“As they intended. Remember, they asked us to sign an agreement before letting us partake in this celebration.”

“I won’t forget. But we’re coming back here one day. With Jasme, Kira, Seraphim, Satele, Theron, Bengel, and whomever you’d like to bring along.”

“My parents,” she said. “And just one other person. I’m afraid I’m quite the loner.”

“Does that bother you?”

“Sometimes.”

“You can always change that.”

“I intend to. Not as the closest of friends, but close enough to go out with, for an occasional drink. Share a few stories.”

They both shut up then, awed by the view that awaited them on top of the cliff. There were a great many trees, of course, but there was also a clear lake. The skies had turned orange, just like the town’s main export, and bathed the entire world around them in liquid amber light. The lake, in particular, sparkled in the waning light.

Birds sang as they returned to their nests, and fish leapt in and out of the water. Several animals sat in the shades of trees here and there, curiously watching the festivities.

Lana and Vajra found themselves a nice spot from which they could see the valley behind them in addition to the lakeside orchard on the cliff.

The closing ceremony of the day was a quartet of soulful hymns that echoed across the hills and vales. These were performed by the local choir group, led by the best singer in the town—the daughter of the Twi’lek they’d met earlier.

Everyone was silent for the first hymn, but joined along for the others. Once it was done, everyone was given a lantern with a balloon attached.

The mayor released her lantern first, and it rose into the sky with all the grace of a swan. His wife released the second, and their children the next four. At this unspoken signal, everyone released their own lanterns with a prayer, and the sky was filled with hundreds of floating lanterns.

“I believe they use a clever containment field to ensure that the lanterns don’t make a mess when they go out,” Lana whispered softly. “Or start a fire.”

“The only technology they use during the celebration.”

“Exactly. But I don’t think any one of us could complain.”

“Yes. Thank you, my sweet Wolf. This was the most incredible experience. Thank you for sharing it with me.”

“Likewise, my Love. Thank you for giving me the perfect first date I’ve always dreamed of.”

*

Chapter Text

Shyirzhaad, a satellite town to Falleen Throne

Falleen was a remote world, but a wealthy enough one that it saw plenty of mercenaries, smugglers, thieves, con artists, and slicers. The underworld thrived on this world, even this close to the Capital.

No one batted an eyelid when the badly named DB docked in Shyirzhaad, bearing pirates. The captain was a rambunctious woman who called herself Rosetta Wolf, and her bodyguard was a moody, soft man named Galahad Knave.

Within hours of arriving, she had picked a fight with a room full of Black Sun goons. And when they attacked, her bodyguard had beaten them all without even drawing his weapons. And then they’d bought everyone a round, including several for the unconscious thugs once they woke up. For ‘being good sports’ about it.

They also won several competitions in the boroughs together; hunting, eating, dancing, and roasting (Captain Wolf really was a vicious bitch with a sharp tongue).

But their real claim to fame was the Captain’s victory over the town’s most feared bounty hunter in a duel. Shot him dead so quickly, no one even saw her move. A perfect shot too; right between his eyes. Poor bugger never saw it coming. With that, the various factions of the town were clamoring for their attention.

And their services. They’d picked up a nice little contract by the end of the day. And sold their junk ship for nearly ten thousand credits.

“What do you think of them?” Rrayden Scorn, Dark Lord of the Sith, asked his fiancée Vette. “Should I invite them into our little paradise?”

“Um… sure, I guess?” Vette said, a lip curling and eyebrow rising almost into her headdress to show how doubtful she was. “I don’t think they’re here for laughs and giggles. They have an angle.”

“Oh?”

“Don’t ‘oh?’ me!” Vette glowered. “Gault’s the one who sniffs out the schemes. I just have gut feelings!”

“Should’ve brought him then.”

“Yeah. Then you’d have to do the heist with him instead of me. Oh, and the date too.”

“Yeah, that wouldn’t have happened.”

“Tell me about it. He smells like cheap booze.”

“What do you smell of?”

Vette smelled herself before she could think. “Come closer, and find out for yourself. Jerk.”

Rrayden Scorn leaned closer and kissed her. “You smell like Vette.”

The little Twi’lek scowled up at him, but it was easy to see that she was fighting a smile valiantly. “And what does a Vette smell like?”

“Smoll, fiery, and blue. And cinnamon rolls.”

“Fuck you.”

“Only once we get married. You promised, remember? Whenever shall we do that?”

“I don’t know! I’ve left that to you, haven’t I? And better make up your mind soon. Lady Kai won’t stop poking me about it!”

“She’s gotten Mira in on that action too.”

“So what’s the delay? I already said yes, remember?”

“You’ve also said no to every wedding date I proposed.”

“Oh. Right.” Unless Rrayden was imagining it, her lekku almost drooped downwards, like an ashamed cat.

“You’re so cute,” he said, picking up the tips of one and nibbling on it.

She yelped. “Hey! Don’t do that in public!” she looked around. “Actually… go on. Nibble harder, big boi.”

“Why not marry right here and now? Why wait for—”

“NO FUCKING WAY!” Vette hollered so loud that people stopped to stare at her. Lowering her voice to a furious whisper, she went on, “Do you think Lady Kai would just let me do that? She wants to be there when I tie that knot! She has a small Kalikori gift ready for me! She took pains researching that!”

“Alright, alright! No need to go angry little demon on me!”

Vette pouted. “I’m only angry cuz you’re pushin my buttons. By being so Rrayden.”

“Want me to be a little more Rrayden?”

“Didn’t you want to talk to that Captain?”

“Shit. I forgot. Come along.” He pulled her along as he hurried forward.

*

“They’re following us,” Vajra warned Lana, who nodded.

“Dammit. I didn’t think I’d run into a Sith out here. And that Twi’lek with him--that’s Vette; I’m certain of it.”

“That name rings a bell…”

“She’s Tiarna Kairegane Rooks’ best friend. You probably heard about her from Jasme. Vette’s quite sharp. I have some confidence that I can outsmart her, but—”

“But I’d blow our cover in the blink of an eye, wouldn’t I?”

“I’m afraid so. I’m sorry.”

“Who’s the Sith?”

“I haven’t seen him before. Given that he’s with Vette, I think it’s Darth Scorn. He’s her fiancé, and a semi-independent Sith Lord, who’s building up a new… venture of some sort on Corvus. Almost like a kingdom. I haven’t been made aware of what that entails, unfortunately. Their presence here…”

“Do you think they’re Revanites?”

“I can’t say for certain. Maybe they’re chasing the Order, like we are. Or, maybe they’re chasing Lana. That’s what really concerns me.”

They’d both agreed to refer to their true selves in the third person.

“How would they even know that she’s here?”

“I’m just that paranoid.”

Vajra risked a covert glance over his shoulder as they turned a corner. “Well, we can’t avoid them, can we? It would look too suspicious. We’re trying to stand out, after all.”

“That’s right.”

“Don’t worry about me. I won’t cause you any trouble. I’ll follow your lead.”

“Thank you, my Knave. Pay attention; I’m about to teach you the simple trick to not get caught lying. Don’t lie in the first place, and don’t evade. The best way to lie, is to tell the truth creatively. Or bend it. If you want to avoid answering a question, say so. Firmly.”

“I—got it.”

“Good. Let’s figure out where a good place to confront them, would be. And contact T7. Ask him to sneak aboard their ship and peek through their computers. I believe it’s called the Scimitar Smile.”

*

Hezhharten Hall

Rrayden Scorn entered the dance parlor, followed closely by Vette. Their quarry was in here, and they were still not doing much to stay low profile. They were dancing together in the center of the dance floor, and so well that the spotlight had started following them around.

Moreover, they didn’t seem to have eyes for anyone but each other. They were twirling and spinning like crazy, and laughing their bloomin’ heads off.

The woman, Captain Wolf, was a gorgeous woman with raven black hair with bubblegum pink highlights. Her eyes were brandy brown, with skin the color of honey. She had a colorful red tattoo on the left side of her face. She wore a navy-blue coat and breeches over a long-necked, white shirt. Her knee-high boots were brown leather, and she had two blasters on her hips.

Her partner, Mister Knave, was a handsome man with a cleft chin, blonde hair, and blue eyes. His arms were scarred and tattooed in equal measure, though his inks were much less elegant than his Captain’s, like the sort that was done in prisons or amateur parlors. He was quite wiry, and wore an open-chested white shirt held together by a red sash with gold trimmings. He had a blaster too, and a collapsible vibrosword that was currently strapped to his back. How anyone could dance like that, and dance so well that everyone around them took notice, was beyond Ray.

Always unwilling to spoil anyone else’s fun, the Sith found a pair of open spots for himself and his girl among the crowd and cheered them on. Minutes later, the song ended, and raucous, drunken applause erupted.

The Captain passionately kissed her lover and announced loudly, “I think that deserves a meal worthy of kings, eh, lasses?”

A Falleen waitress approached them with a wide smile and led them to a table. Neither sentient appeared to be swayed by her hormones, which she had to be using for the extra tips.

“Not gonna lie, that was fuckin awesome,” Vette whispered.

“Yeah. I’ll admit, I’m feeling charged.”

“We should go say hi before someone else does.”

“In this case, expendables first. Run, if they start shooting.”

“As if!”

Rrayden picked his way through the groups that were reforming, some on the dance floor, others at the wings. He reached the pirates’ table and flashed them his most charming smile. “Hello there!” he beamed. “I’m Rrayden, and this is my companion, Vette.”

“Pleasure to meet you, Sith.” The Captain’s smile was lazy. “Captain Wolf. First Mate Knave. We’re pirates.”

“Can you still be pirates if you don’t have ships?” Vette wondered. “Or be Captains and Mates? I heard you sold yours.”

“Who’s going to stop us?” Knave asked. His voice was soft, and a bit high.

“Besides, we’ll just take a better one when we’re done here. Or buy, if we like the bloke. We ain’t picky.”

“Are you looking for a crew?” Rrayden asked. “Or are you just the two of you?”

“That’s our secret.”

“Would you tell me if I offer you employment?”

The woman’s head sprang up from her companion’s lap, swatting away the fingers that brushed her hair. “Oho?” She asked interestedly. “What does the Sith have in mind?”

“I’m building up a paradise on Corvus. A haven from the war, where entrepreneurs and free spirits can gather and exchange tales. Maybe find work.”

“Giving you what, in return?”

“Commerce, to be blunt. The more people that pass through, the more my facilities get used. The more they get talked about. In addition, I have some of my own jobs to offer. You can choose your terms. Work with me on an as-needed basis, or I can put you on retainer.”

“That’s quite the commitment from someone whom we don’t even know,” the woman answered carefully. “And who doesn’t know us. We’ve spent years honing our skills, but we’re new to the game. Unknowns. Are you really willing to offer us such a big contract based on… what, my boobs? My butt? My hat?”

“Her lips?” Knave suggested.

The Captain rolled her eyes and kissed his throat. “Here’s the lips, you damn scoundrel!”

“Much obliged, Captain.”

“Well?” She turned her attention back to the Sith.

“Don’t be like that,” Vette smiled. “We ain’t stupid. We got a good feelin’ about you guys. And we saw how you beat that bounty hunter. You’re the real deal.”

“It’s true though,” Ray nodded. “We are taking a risk. But it’s not a big one. See, Corvus isn’t the only job I need help with. I need something right here on this planet. And I’m willing to pay up to twenty thousand credits for your assistance.”

The woman’s eyes flashed at the sound of the price, but it wasn’t enough to reel her in. “I’d like to hear more before I risk my lover’s pretty face. And my own, I suppose.”

“It’s a heist job. We have several weeks to plan it.”

“We’re after a relic called the Eye of Noria Skald. It’s an orb that belonged to a Sith by the same name. We’re not sure what it does, but a friend wanted us to reclaim it.” Or destroy it.

“A friend.”

“Secrets that I can’t divulge.”

“Hmmm. Of course.”

The woman’s pursed lips only parted again to eat the kebab that her lover had placed in front of them. “I’d like to think on it.”

“Sure. We’re in no hurry.”

“We’re livin out of our ship,” Vette smiled. “It’s in docking bay Besh-7. Just come on over to us. Any time after 2100. We’ll wait till this weekend. Coming, Babe?”

“After you.” Taking her hand, Rrayden led the way out. “What did you think?”

“She’s more cautious than I thought she’d be,” Vette whispered back. “Not at all what she seems like at first glance.”

“And her Mate?”

“He left all the thinking and talking to her. A good fighter and dancer though. It looks like they trust each other. Why, what’re you thinking?”

“Something Felt off about him. I can’t put my finger on what.”

“What’s the point of Force Senses, if they’re so imp-re-cise?”

“How’s it any different from your instincts?”

Vette smacked him. “Don’t compare the two; it’s the Force that’s supposed to be this great super-power.”

“We all have different gifts, though. Mine obviously aren’t keen senses. Mira could’ve Seen through him.”

“So, what now?”

“I think I can head over to our meeting. It’s a bit early, but we can scout out the place. You want to come?”

“Yep. It’s that, or cooling my heels in the ship.”

“It’s a nice ship.”

“But it’s a ship. I prefer being in the open. Ooo, that one’s got a nice necklace—”

“Not today, Vette. Or at least, not until we’re about to leave anyway.”

“Right. Sorry.”

*

“What did you think about them?” Lana asked Vajra, once they’d found a quiet spot.

“I… I don’t know,” he said, looking troubled. “I thought they were nice. Scorn, especially. Not Sith from the Angral and Malgus school of Sithery.”

“He’s from Eastdrift Academy on Ziost, same as me,” Lana reflected. “A few years my senior. I never met him, but I do know that he’s Darth Occlus’ Apprentice.”

“Occlus?”

“That’s right. But don’t worry; he wasn’t exactly close to his former Master. No one was, except for Darth Atroxa, and even she’s not likely to seek Vajra out.”

“But… why?”

“He was a Sith who believed that mystique would add a layer of protection from our politics. And he was right. No one ever knew what he was plotting, who his friends were, or even if he was worth fighting. He had three apprentices over his twenty-year long career as a Darth, and not one of them stayed in touch after graduating. But we’re getting sidetracked here.”

“Right. I’m a little concerned here. This ‘Eye,’ and the mysterious friend who didn’t even give them the full details about what they’re stealing—”

“It sounds like they’re with the Revanites, doesn’t it? Even if they’re not Revanites themselves. Sadly, there’s little in their biographies that tells us one way or the other.”

“Jasme said Vette is absolutely loyal to Tiarna Kaimeryn.”

“Yes. I suppose that’s a point in her favor, since the Tiarna is pretty low on my list of suspects. But out of the people who’d hunt me down for murdering Darth Arkous, she’d rank at the top. Only Darth Marr or Nox might be more interested in hounding me.”

“But if she knew you were here, it wouldn’t be Vette she’d be sending in. Are you worried she knows to look out for you?”

“I—I don’t think that’s Vette’s strong point.”

Vajra’s comm began to vibrate. He answered at once. “T7! Are you alright?”

Lana listened into the speaker and sighed. The droid had found nothing incriminating, but nothing of import either. Not even who it was that Darth Scorn was doing a favor to. Who could it be? Darth Travvor? She was a cunning woman who loved to explore. She might certainly have put her best friend up to this mission, though Scorn wouldn’t have kept it a secret if she had… would he? If it was her, it wasn’t too hard to believe she’d been a member of the Revanites before their realignment. But now? Impossible to say. Her mentor was Darth Shaar, who, like her own master Vowrawn, was a possible Revanite.

“What should we do?” Vajra asked.

“T7 and I will begin investigating the Revanites we know to be here. Jumai Tarr, Aurik Kepler, Arakel Xomans, and Ribaulden Joars. Knave, you still have that backdoor access to the Archives, don’t you? See if they have anything about this ‘Eye.’ It may have to do with the Revanites.”

“The backdoor only allows me so much access. Sith artifacts might be a bit beyond its clearance. But don’t worry. I have someone else I can turn to.”

Lana looked at him with worry in her eyes. “Alright, Knave. I trust you.”

“Thank you, Wolf. I know it’s a lot to ask for.”

“From anyone else, yes. From you, it’s like asking for an extra cup of sugar.”

“I do have a suggestion, however.”

“Yes?”

“Vette wasn’t wrong. We need a new ship. The sooner, the better.”

“An escape route. I like it.”

T7 piped up again. <T7 = has found a relevant advertisement while on the objective.>

This is interesting. “What kind of advertisement?”

*

Unknown Space Station,
Imperial Space

Lord Scourge had recently toured all twelve of the facilities he’d built as staging points for his betrayal. Aside from merely providing a safe haven, they also received data from the many computers and channels he monitored. Despite some initial concern, the hacks and backdoors were still working as intended.

He was still receiving news from all the important places. Korriban, the Temple of the Hand, the Dark Citadel, Ziost Citadel, and more. They had little of interest for him, except confirmation of some details he’d already known; like how Marr had led the Sith and their Empire away from his former Master.

Neither the Council, nor the Hand, knew anything about the Emperor’s return.

But his fortresses were a good place to spend time in, for the time being.

He paused his daily training when he received a call. “Ah. Jedi Vajra. Have you found anything?”

“No. No, not yet.” Scourge hadn’t heard his ally’s voice in over a year, which was why he was startled by its sound. “I do have something else I’m working on. A force that seems to be working to destroy both the Republic and the Sith.”

“Do you think they have anything to do with…?”

“No. Maybe. If I find that out, you’ll be the first to know. They had Darth Arkous working for them, whoever they are, and he claimed that more might be working for him. For now, I need some information.”

Scourge was a little disappointed, but shrugged it off. “Name it.”

“The Eye of Noria Skald. Have you ever heard about it?”

“Yes, though I’m surprised anyone in this generation has. My former Master once spent twenty years trying to find it. Skald was a lesser supporter of Lord Aloysius Kallig, the ancestor of Darth Nox. Some say, his secret wife. The Eye was her divination tool. It allowed her to see through the eyes of everyone whom she had marked with her seal. But more than just where they were at that moment; she could see all the places they’d visited in the previous month, as well as hints of where they might visit in the next. She could see how loyal a person was to her, and to her master. Unsurprisingly, Tulak Hord coveted and feared her power. He tried to take possession of it right after betraying Lord Kallig. But though he slew her and all of her servants, he failed to lay hands on his prize. You can guess why the Emperor wanted it. Who wants it now? What does it have to do with your current quarry?”

“We don’t have either of those answers. We’ve arrived on a planet, hoping to thwart a plot here. But we ran into a Sith named Rrayden Scorn who’s attempting to secure the artifact for… some unknown friend.”

Scourge tapped his keypad for a moment. “I cannot confirm yet, but it’s likely Nox. That one is not as loyal to the Empire as he pretends to be. He might be part of this third faction.”

“That’s really helpful. Thank you, Scourge. How’s your hunt going?”

“Poorly. Or well, depending on your perspective. No word at all, of our enemy’s movement. His puppets are still unstrung.”

“For all we know, it might take decades before we hear something else. But we’re still no closer to banishing him for good.”

Scourge sighed. “You’re right, of course. But it’s the best we can do right now.”

“Yes. I’ll call you again in a few months. Or if I need help again.”

“It breaks the monotony; I’ll give you that.”

“Farewell.”

“And you.” Scourge began searching his records of Darth Arkous. That man had somehow betrayed the Empire, and he knew nothing of it! Perhaps his data was not very accurate, after all.

*

Chapter Text

Around 1700,
Docking bay Aurek-03

Lana and Vajra had adopted different disguises as they approached the Docking bay, since they weren’t sure if they wanted this to be connected to their main alter egos. Both were masquerading as thirty-year old humans with red hair; she with blue eyes, he with green.

As they walked, Lana reflected on what Vajra had found out from Scourge. The ‘Eye of Noria Skald’ was, in fact, a relic that had the power of surveillance, as the name hinted. It was so ironic, that nomenclature had progressed to such a point that names were no longer made an object’s function plain. But why would the Revanite leader—if he was indeed Revan—want such an artifact? She was afraid she knew. Looking at past and present was simple enough, thanks to body cams or local surveillance. But perhaps it was to anticipate the future. Did he want the ability to foresee any threats to his plans before they even occurred? If Revan—she decided to call him that, for now—if Revan really did get his hands on the Eye, he might be able to foil their attempts to thwart his plots, or at least the more critical ones. They could not allow him to get his hands on it.

But she felt conflicted, for such a tool would aid the Empire greatly. If Darth Marr or Arkous’ successor used the Eye to evade failure, her side would gain a major advantage in a war. But… but did she want that, anymore? Her hands tightened around Vajra’s. She was compromised now. There was no way she could do anything that might lead to his side’s defeat. Despite knowing his psychological profile backwards, she wondered if he felt the same for her.

“You alright, Sweetheart?” Vajra whispered.

“Just thinking. About the Eye. I think it should be destroyed. It’s far too powerful. It might do a lot of harm if either side got their hands on it.”

“Are you sure you want to destroy it?”

“Yes. What about you?”

“I’m not thinking that far ahead yet. I was thinking about whether it really was Nox who put Darth Scorn up to this. Are they close?”

“Well… no. To my knowledge, they’ve never met or interacted. But Rrayden is a close friend and ally of Tiarna Kaimeryn. She might have been the one to pass along the request.”

“What of his friend, Darth Travvor?”

“I don’t know. But I intend to look, once we get the chance. Like your friend Scourge, my safehouses store information for me, siphoned from Intelligence servers. They’re still being updated, despite my clearance having been revoked. I can see what I have on her once we have a strong, secure connection.”

“If the ship doesn’t have a subspace antenna, we can buy one. I know how to install encryption packages.”

“Thank you.”

T7 joined up with them outside the Docking bay Aurek, and led them to the landing pad they were searching for.

“Ah, here we are!” They entered the docking bay to find the seller. He was an elderly, dark-skinned gentleman called Captain Luis Jelbin, around ninety years old or more. One look at his ship, an XT-24 Firebird, and Lana could tell that he’d put much love into maintaining it. Her instincts told her at once that it was a ship worth buying, but Vajra didn’t give her the chance to close the deal in a timely manner.

Instead, he greeted the man like a friend, and graciously complimented the ship; about how well-maintained it appeared to be, to the old man’s evident delight. He even invited him to give them a tour, which the man did, with gratitude and happiness in his voice. He showed them every nook and cranny, every part of the ship, whether it was standard or a special modification. He gave Vajra detailed notes about small idiosyncrasies and quirks the ship possessed, and regaled them with stories about the adventures she had seen him and his crew through.

The only reason he was selling it was because his First Mate’s son, for whom he’d been holding onto the ship, had died, leaving no one in line to inherit its legacy.

“Sixty-seven years,” he said proudly, as he hobbled through the cockpit, and tapped the systems for what he knew would be the final time. “That’s how long I’ve served with her. She may not be the most cutting-edge ship in the galaxy, but the Azure Phoenix is fast, nimble, and sturdy.”

“I can see that,” Vajra agreed enthusiastically. “It’s easy to tell from the first glance. But knowing its history is something else entirely. You should be proud.”

“I am, dear boy! I am!” Captain Jelbin pumped the young man’s hand. There were tears in his eyes, and a wide, bright smile on his face. “And I can see she’s in good hands now. You take care of her, you hear?”

“Of course, Captain.”

They paid the man the asked-for fifty thousand credits before being handed over the ship. It was well into the night now, hours past the time Lana had been hoping to be done.

As a token of his appreciation for their indulgence, the old man let them keep the treasures in the lounge—which seemed to double as a trophy room; an old war horn, a large collection of medals, claws, and feathers, several ceremonial swords and blasters, and even a few full sets of archaic, lacquered plate armor.

Once he’d left, the Sith and pragmatist in Lana wanted to scold her boyfriend for the wasted time, but the romantic in her won out. She wanted to leap at Vajra and kiss him until he passed out, but she settled for two-thirds that treatment. “That was the sweetest thing I’ve ever seen.” She gushed as she peppered his face with kisses before going for his mouth. It would have been an arousing kiss, if she wasn’t already excited.

Vajra returned the affection, too stunned for more than a tepid “Thank you.”

“I’m serious! I was moved to tears several times over the course of the evening! Do you have any idea how hard it is to do that to a Sith?” She released him and nuzzled against his neck. “I’m getting soft, and I don’t even care.”

T7 moodily seconded her sentiment, still not too happy about their new relationship. But he said nothing as the lovers just lay there for as long as they wished.

On the floor, in front of the ramp.

Once they rose—reluctantly—they spent the next few hours going over the ship. Lana and T7 swept the ship for bugs and cameras, while Vajra changed all the passcodes, and started unpacking. Once done, they decided to break in their new ship by cooking dinner in the ship’s kitchen, then turned in for the night.

Vajra shyly suggested they share the Captain’s suite. And while that bed was certainly large enough to let them sleep with half an arm’s length between them, they chose to rest in each other’s arms.

They did not make love, for neither of them was in a rush. Neither knew what they were waiting for, but they trusted the feeling.

“Goodnight, Wolf,” Vajra breathed into her hair.

“Goodnight, Knave,” Lana whispered into his chest, as sleep descended upon her like a blanket made of the lightest petals.

*

Vajra was walking in very tall grass.

No, he was crawling in it, chest a mere inch above the soil. It wasn’t too long; looking up, he judged that it would only reach his navel if he stood up. But before he could act out his thought, he felt a gentle nudge in the small of his back. He turned to see an almost radiant young woman with three dark eyes smiling fondly at him.

What the—

She made a few gestures with her hand, that he immediately interpreted. ‘Silent as a shadow, unseen as the wind.’ She then pointed ahead gently, and Vajra turned to look, and saw a mock deer standing some distance away.

This… this was a memory… and he was being trained to sneak up on prey. But that meant—

“Amma?” he wanted to whisper. He wanted to turn around and gape at the woman who had to be his mother. But he was stuck in the memory he was playing out. His younger self did as his mother bid. It wasn’t smooth or silent. He made plenty of mistakes, which earned a chuckle from behind him. But soon, he started to learn. His movements grew more confident and adept.

It was around 0700, Vajra guessed, and he’d been at this for an hour already. Looking around, he spotted other children also engaged in this training. Was it a race? A competition? Or a way to keep all the children in the same area as they underwent training that was likely to see at least one child wander off.

Yes, that sounded right. Children needed training, but the Raudra did not take any chances with them. A contest made this fun and engaging, and added a sense of urgency. No one liked coming in last.

Vajra advanced at a faster pace. He carefully moved his hands and feet so they didn’t turn over a stone or disturb an animal. But as he reached the edge of the tall grass, other children did, too. The first to act was a girl with a green scarf. Her practice spear sailed past the target and landed in a mound of sand a few meters beyond it. The second child, also a girl—this one with long hair tied up in two double-braids—dropped her spear in her rush. The third, a boy with a necklace of stone draksh, also missed. It was the fourth one who managed to score the first hit, a girl with hair in a bun. Vajra’s spear struck half a heartbeat later.

The flurry of attacks had all lasted less than five seconds.

“Well done!” Amma cried, taking him into her arms and raising him into the air. He finally got a good look at her. She had his eyes, jaw, and nose. The tattoos on her face sat well on her full cheeks. Her voice was like a songbird’s; high, soft, pleasant. She had a short sword on her hip, and rough leather cuirass beneath her mottled green scarf. She had long, dark hair that was tied in a loose bun. And her smile made his heart tremble.

Vajra laughed, but he wanted to cry. He wanted to sob and weep, and apologize for forgetting about her. To tell her that he loved her, and missed her. He wanted to hold on to her and never let go, to protect her from the monster that was to come in a few months’ time. But he couldn’t. She was dead. But at least… at least she’d found new life in his heart.

He was in her arms again, and he was grateful.

*

Vajra woke up to a very different woman in his arms. Different, but just as magnificent. “Lana,” he whispered.

She was not as asleep as he’d believed. She stirred and smiled up at him. “Good morning.” She snuggled against his chest.

“What time is it?”

“0500. You were crying.”

“Did I wake you?”

“That’s not the issue, my Love. What dream did you have?”

Vajra felt tears run down his eyes again. He managed that deluge of tears burst forth this time. An overwhelm of joy, love, sorrow, and loss. Lana held him tightly, whispering softly and kissing his cheek and forehead. She sat up, and pulled his head to her shoulder.

T7 entered the room, having heard the commotion, but his questioning whistle was cut short.

“What is it?” Lana asked again, once the flood stopped.

“My mother,” he revealed. “I had a dream of my mother. And I loved her so much! I miss her so much! I—I’m…”

“It’s alright,” she cooed, still holding him. He could hear the love in her own voice. “I’m glad they’re coming back to you. I’m glad that even the almighty Force couldn’t keep you from your own love.” She kissed him, his forehead, his cheek, his hand. “You are a strong man, my love. Maybe not in the stoic, never-shows-emotion kind of way, but you always pull through for love. That might sound… corny, to some, but to me—” she kissed him again. “To me, it’s the most exciting thing about you.”

At a loss for words, Vajra just hugged her.

T7 warbled. <Is Jedi Vajra = coming down with something?>

“As I’m sure you’ve already surmised, he’s started to remember things,” Lana told the droid. “Things Oteg tried to make him forget, ‘for his own good.’” Vajra heard the massive air quotes gesture she put into her voice. “For years now, he didn’t have any emotion in regards to his family. But it’s coming back now. I’m sure it won’t be a pretty thing. He’ll need time to adjust, to accept. I intend to be there for him. Will you?”

<T7 = delighted to!>

“Good. If you have any other questions, I’ll answer them later, as best I can. For now, just come on over here. Stand beside Vajra.”

The Astromech complied, and Vajra felt some quiet return to his heart in their presence.

*

Chapter Text

Darth Rrayden Scorn and Vette slowly approached the building their waypoint had marked out for them. It was a larger home, perhaps big enough for four people with their own room. It was well-maintained too, as if whoever lived here took great pride in order.

Much like one other person he was familiar with.

The one who answered the door was a tall, stout, orange alien with what looked like horns on his chin. “Well, well… lookit what we have here.” Contrary to Ray’s expectations, the alien had a soft voice, though it did seem to emanate from his belly rather than his throat. “Are you lost? We’re not expecting visitors. There’s nothing for you here.”

“Hold on. I was asked to show you this.” Ray pulled a token out of his pocket and presented it to the alien for inspection.

“Oh, so you’re family, eh? Come right in.” He stepped aside to allow the pair inside, then closed the door. “We have some food, if you’re hungry. It’s not gourmet food, but it’s the better than what you get in most hotels around here.”

His Basic was perfect too. Rrayden looked over the man, finding it difficult to tell what his specialty was. At this point, he didn’t think he was hired muscle. They were led to a kitchen, where the alien rang an intercom to summon the others.

While they waited, Ray asked, “I’ve never encountered one of your kind before. What are you? Where are you from?”

“I’m Dowutin, from Dowut. It’s a bit out of the way.”

“So was Dromund Kaas, until recently.”

“True. Home is the center of the universe, to us all.” He looked around at the people gathering. “Alright. Looks like that’s everyone. I’m Arakel Xomans. I’m the explosives and electricals expert.”

“I’m Jumai Tarr,” a black-furred Cathar purred, showing all of her fangs. “I’m the infiltrator.”

“I’m Ribaulden Joars,” said the Chagrian. “I’m the security. I’m formerly Republic Spec Forces.”

“And I’m Aurik Kepler,” said the last one, an Iridonian Zabrak. “I’m the pilot and quartermaster.”

“My name is Rrayden Scorn. I can be the muscle, or the loud distraction. Call me Ray.”

“And I’m Vette. I’m the thief.”

“Good. A thief is just what we need for this operation,” Arakel said. “But we’re still a bit short. Our prize is guarded inside the capital itself. In a nobleman’s villa. It’s a fortress. Crawling with guards. The only way we get out, is if we have some experienced warriors.”

“How many?”

“Ten or twelve, at least.”

“As it happens, I was told we needed a few more guns. I put out offers before a few people who seemed like they knew discretion. Among others, the pirates Wolf and Knave seemed like a good fit for us.”

“I heard about them,” the Dowutin said. “They caused quite a splash coming here. If I had to guess, they’re looking to grow their reputation. Character aside, I doubt they’ll take an offer that calls for discretion.”

“I offered them money, and a place to build their brand.”

“That might work. Now comes the trust issue. I’m willing to accept your sponsor’s guarantee that you’re clean, but this pirate…”

“Don’t worry. I won’t tell them any more than they need to know.” Ray felt slight concern. Had he mentioned the Eye to Wolf? Surely not. It wouldn’t mean much to her anyway. It didn’t mean anything to him. Or even Mira. “The way I plan on using the hired help, is to give them their objectives, then reward them for a job well done.”

“Good.”

“What is this Eye, anyway?”

All of the men laughed. “Hell if we know,” Aurik smiled. “This is need-to-know. And we don’t need to.”

“Right.” Ray had to suppress his curiosity, since he’d been warned not to ask any questions about the group that he was currently working with. “So, tell me what you’ve got so far.”

He and Vette listened intently as the group revealed what they knew of this fortress’ layout.

*

Lana entered the shared quarters, followed by Vajra. T7 entered nearly an hour later, disguised as a maintenance droid.

“Welcome back,” Vajra said with such obvious relief, that even T7 noticed.

<Jedi Vajra = too worried. T7 = very experienced! T7 = been doing this for years!>

“I know, I know! I can’t help but be worried.”

<T7 = understands.>

“Here’s what we’ve found out,” Lana held up a paper for the Astromech.

T7 gave a confused whistle. <But paper = blank!>

“Exactly.”

T7 gave an electronic laugh when he figured out the joke. <Sith Lord: Lana Beniko has Sense of humor. Ranking: very good. Comment: you got T7.>

“Thanks. I have to cope with the setback somehow. We found the Revanites’ base of operations, but it’s a closed system. Totally disconnected from all communication lines. There’s no way of looking in.”

“We did Sense Darth Scorn inside, however.”

“That gives us one lead, at least. The Revanites really are looking for the Eye of Skald. And Scorn’s benefactor might be the one to put him here.”

“What have you found out?”

<Eye of Skald = ancient heirloom of House Terrid. Record of acquisition = sketchy. T7 = surmises that Skald sibling = ancestor of House Terrid. House Terrid = secretly possesses many ancient Sith artifacts.>

“According to my research, Skald always kept her face hidden,” Lana added. “It makes sense that she wasn’t a Sith.”

“But if House Terrid has kept the heirloom all these years, have they ever tried to use it? Why didn’t Kana—I mean Darth Karrid—try to retrieve it when she turned?”

<Ritual to use the Eye = Unknown?>

“Maybe that ritual was locked away in a different location,” Vajra said. “And found. By the Emperor, perhaps. No other reason for the Revanites to be willing to pursue it.”

“What else does House Terrid have?”

<Large collection: tablets in ancient Sith. Many journals of Lord Kallig and Skald. Seven rare alchemical reagents, used in the creation of inorganic Sithspawn. Three ritual stones.>

“That’s quite the treasure trove,” Lana whispered. “Any idea what the Eye looks like?”

T7 projected an image of a crystal ball, set atop an inverted tripod shaped like claws. There were etchings inscribed on it, in a script Lana could not read.

“I’ve seen writing like that,” Vajra said, looking surprised. “On Tython. In Keleth.”

“Which makes this artifact even older than we thought,” Lana said, shocked. “It may have been carried over by one of the exiles.”

“Still think we should destroy it?”

“Yes,” Lana said reluctantly. “I hate destroying historical relics, but this one… even if the Empire wasn’t at war with the Republic, Sith would still use it on each other. Like Hord tried to.”

“I don’t mind giving it to you,” Vajra told her gently. “I trust you.”

Lana felt a butterfly flutter in her throat. “You… you trust me too much. I’m not a good woman. I’m a Sith. I worked in Intelligence. You shouldn’t be so willing to put your faith in me.”

T7 agreed heartily.

“That’s not a debate you can win so easily. If you want to take it, and keep it safe in a museum, perhaps in anticipation it might come in handy someday please do so.”

“No,” Lana said after some thought. She still vividly remembered what Mercy had suffered at the hands of the Dark Council. This was a tool that had far more potential for damage. She couldn’t trust them with this. But what of herself? What if she could use this to track her comrades, to ensure their success? With their permission, of course—

No. She shook her head. She would not go down this slippery road. So, she told herself, but she could yet feel the call. She sighed and leaned against her lover’s chest. “You’re going to regret your trust in me, someday.”

Two arms wrapped around her side, and he kissed her head. “I will not. No matter what you’re forced to do.”

“We need to destroy the Eye. But how do we do it? I see two paths open to us; help Scorn, and fake a mishap. Or, we work without his help, and risk letting him get away.”

“Perhaps we don’t fake the mishap ourselves?” Vajra suggested.

“What, hire someone else to do the deed for us?” Lana felt incredulous. It wasn’t often that Vajra said something she thought was truly stupid, but he had to know how dangerous trust was, at the moment!

Vajra rubbed the back of his head. “Well…” he snapped his fingers. “I’ve got it! That assassin droid guarding your vault on Hutta! We can call him here, and have him destroy the artifact. It will leave your vault vulnerable, but—”

“That’s a great idea!” Lana said enthusiastically. She was astonished she didn’t think of it herself. Her disappointment vanished in an instant. “I’ll call him over at once. I’ve mostly ransacked that vault anyway. I’ll order him to bring what’s left, and destroy all evidence. We can establish a different one at a later date. And someplace more secure. Any other genius plans designed to leave me in awe of your intellect?”

“Sorry. I’m all out,” he said sheepishly.

She chuckled and kissed his cheek. “It’s alright, my Knave. That was enough. This goes to show, that you don’t need an arsenal to win a victory. One, well-placed blaster bolt is sufficient.”

Vajra blinked. “What victory?”

Lana laughed and got back to work. She quickly composed a message, taking care to enter all the relevant authorization to ensure that it was taken as authentic. Meanwhile, Vajra rose and fetched them both some tea. He was getting better at it, under her strict supervision. Not that he was bad before, but she just made sure his tea could be served in her parents’ most prestigious hotels.

“Do you have the layouts to House Terrid’s estate?” Vajra asked T7.

<T7 = has records. Documents = old. Renovations and upgrades = not included. The blueprints = unreliable.>

“The Revanites would have them,” Lana said softly. “Though it would be a challenge getting to them. But don’t you worry your pretty little head about that; I’ll figure something out.”

“Wonderful!” Vajra sighed and lay down on a chair as if exhausted. “All that thinking was making my head hurt!”

“Glad you’re learning not to push yourself,” Lana rolled her eyes. “On that subject, it’s lunchtime. T7, would you mind ordering the local cuisine? I’ve been meaning to try it out. Get us something that’s popular.”

<Order = placed. Will be here = 45 minutes.>

“Thank you. Now we can work without worrying.”

“Is it okay if I train for a bit?” Vajra asked.

Lana nodded. He had fixed times for training, namely 0500 and 1800, but he didn’t miss the chance for light training when he could get away with it. It was less of an issue these days, since he was eating more.

“T7, do you think Vajra’s becoming healthier? I can’t tell yet.”

<T7 = does not know. Change = too small.>

“Are his dizzy spells decreasing in number? Or intensity?”

<Affirmative.>

Lana smiled with satisfaction. “Then we’ve already made a good start. Thank you, T7. Please continue to monitor him for me.”

<Roger! Should T7 = add food for Jedi Vajra? Order = modifiable at this stage.>

“I think so. Maybe something nonperishable, so it can be consumed as a late afternoon snack.”

<Done.>

“Now let’s go over the old schematics. They might not be any good, but it’s a place to start.”

<Acknowledged.>

*

Jabiim

Jasme read Vajra’s quick report. What most interested her was his confession that he had feelings for Lana, and that they were both a couple now. The juicier details made her want to shake him by the collar.

Why are you two being so boring? You’re both in your twenties, not forties! Be adventurous, be daring!

But there were other, less interesting but more important bits in there.

One of which really served to throw her off-balance.

“What did he say?” Theron asked, noticing her expression. For once.

“He says that they’ve discovered what the Revanites might be up to. Something called the Eye of Skald. It’s an ancient relic, possibly as old as Keleth. The Revanite Leader can possibly use it to foresee any interference in his plots.”

“As if we needed things to be harder than they were!”

“There’s something else.”

“What is it?”

“They’ve run into a… friend of mine. Vette, who is Tiarna Rooks’ best friend. And her left-hand. She’s crafty but sweet. They don’t think she’s a Revanite, but her boyfriend—no, her fiancé—might be. Darth Rrayden Scorn.”

“I’ve never heard of him.”

“He’s not tried to stand out. Most of his activities have been limited to Imperial space. He’s… a joker. And a fighter. Sportsman too. But not very keen on the war, or even Sith politics. That’s why he and Vette got along like a house on fire.”

“You think he’s a Revanite.”

“Maybe. I don’t know. I only ever met him a few times. But it’s his best friend who’s the bigger suspect. Darth Mirabelle Travvor. She was a scholar and theorist. She was always into tomes and Holocrons when she wasn’t working. If she and Scorn are Revanites…” she stopped. “Oh, shit. Theron… I’ve worked with Travvor a couple of times. She and I spent a few mornings and afternoons together when she came to Kouhaush Muin for research. She knows me.”

“Easy, Sis. You’re wearing a disguise, remember?” He tapped the wristband he’d given her. “She wouldn’t recognize you—”

“She can use the Force, Theron. She’s not the best tracker in the galaxy, but she’s still good. She probably knows my signature by touch. That’s something we can’t hide!”

That got him a little concerned. “Well, what’s her range like?”

“I… I don’t know! Dammit, if only I knew how to Mask myself.”

“Don’t worry about it. At this point, all we can do is keep you away from the action. Out of her sight. Hopefully, that’ll be enough. What’s she like?”

“Oh… well… she’s a little taller than Lana, and a bit leaner. Honey blonde hair, yellow eyes. She carries a Saberstaff, and likes to dress in purple. I hope you weren’t expecting me to be super helpful.”

“Yeah. Sorry. I guess the only thing we can do, is hope I find out what she looks like, before I accidentally draw her attention.”

“Yeah. So, what have you discovered?”

“The Revanites here are led by Lord Turan Rasmus. There are seven in all, though I haven’t been able to uncover their identities yet. I do know what they’re after, though. They’re here looking for the resting place of Visas Marr, a former comrade of the Jedi Exile. What do you know about her?”

Jasme took a deep breath. “This is from the more restricted vaults of the Tython Archives. What I’m about to tell you, stays with you. Alright?”

“Got it.”

“What do you know about the Mandalorian Wars?”

“They came, they saw, they conquered. The Republic begged the Council for help, but were refused. Revan led thousands of Jedi who refused to turn away. Him, Malak, Raya Kol—the Jedi Exile—and many others. But the wars were brutal. The Jedi fighting in them saw so much carnage, that they all fell. All except Master Raya, of course. That caused a great civil war among the Jedi. Then Revan was captured, and had a change of heart, met our other ancestor Bastila Shan, and together they destroyed the Star Forge and saved the galaxy.”

“A good summary. Do you know what happened next?”

“Revan disappeared. To find out who was behind the Mandalorians. But… other Sith rose out of the ashes, and nearly killed the Jedi in just a few overwhelming assaults.”

“The Sith Triumvirate. They were themselves stopped by Master Raya, who never sought or got the kind of attention and drama our ancestor craved. But I’m getting ahead of myself. It wasn’t a few overwhelming assaults. It was just one. A Sith we only know as Darth Nihilus got wind of a Jedi conclave taking place on the Miraluka homeworld of Katarr, and destroyed all life there. No, he ate it. Like it was a snack. Nothing can grow there, now. The Jedi were scared shitless. They had no idea how to deal with him. Worse, they realized that their presence endangered the innocent. That’s why they disappeared.”

“Damn! I had no idea!”

“Anyway, this is where Visas comes in. She was the sole survivor of his attack. One in a hundred million. Nihilus saw something in her, and enslaved her. Visas broke free some years later, thanks to Raya Kol, and helped her kill him. But once they finally struck him down, the body disintegrated. The only things left of Nihilus were his Holocron, his Lightsaber, and his mask. The Lightsaber was cleansed by Mical, the Grand Master of the restored Jedi Order. The Holocron was taken to the Coruscant Temple, though it was lost during the Sacking. The mask was different. Dangerous. Possibly unique. Master Mical theorized that Nihilus’ body was utterly destroyed by his own hunger. But his will somehow bound itself to his mask. And it was forever marked. When all efforts to exorcise it failed, Visas took it into her safekeeping. She was able to calm its hunger and soothe its soul, a task her spirit still performs to this day.”

Theron dropped the cup he was holding. “Wait, what!?”

“It’s true. There’s not been a single Jedi Master who read about it, and doesn’t find it hard to believe. So, they have to check it out for themselves. It’s a low-key pilgrimage spot for Masters now. Every one of the Council has paid homage to Visas. I came to see it for myself, with Mom.” Jasme chuckled. “Our first little outing together. Visas’ spirit is still around, and it’s still doing its thing. Keeping the galaxy safe. It’s interred in her grave.”

“Wow!”

“Amazed, Twin of mine?”

“That’s one word for it. I’m also alarmed. Why does the Revanite leader want it? How did he even find out about it, if it’s so restricted?”

“Master Oteg, I’m sure. They were pretty close. As to what the Revanites want, I’ll have to think on it. I do hope they’re not thinking of creating a second Nihilus.”

“We can’t let that happen!” Theron slammed his hand on the table. Jasme was glad she’d lifted off his plate in time. “We have to stop them!”

“Right. Let us honor the memory and labors of the great Visas Marr!”

*

Unknown Revanite Base

Captain Jerre Kraot approached the innermost sanctum of the Stronghold, where the Leader stood vigil. He rarely moved. Some people thought he wasn’t really alive anymore. Jerre half-believed that too. Like this man had transcended mortality.

“Ah, welcome back, my old friend. What news have you brought me?”

“Marshall Kay Cravat wuz almos’ ready to arrest me on sight. Ah didn’t know that the team we sent had Sith in it.”

“Really? I thought I’d made this clear to Vodd, but It seems she was weary of that world.”

“Not tha’ ah blame er,” Jerre sighed. “Tha’ world wuz once a prison to a whole species that frightened the excremen’ oudof the Rakatta. They made quite the impresh’n when they werr r’leased. It did make muh job harder, though. Ah managed t’ convince Kay that they were not mah guys. Tha’ mah team must’ve been ambushed and r’placed. Ah tol’ her that the Sith’s presence proved tha’ mah mission wuz important.”

“And she believed that?”

“No. She let me go. With a present. A tracking beacon. But it’ll just lead er back to Chandrila. There’s a reas’n whay ah don’t use th’ Fool’s Gold when on business for the Order. Too recognahzible. Corso will be usin’ it for th’ time being. Running supplies to refugee camps ev’ry once in a while. Doin’ some charity work for the Peacekeeper’s Brigade.”

“Very wise. That makes it look like you have nothing to hide.”

“Mah trip wasn’ a total bust. Ah did find out tha’ a Jedi Defender had been there, recen’ly. Don’ know which one, but Jedi only use Defenders on official business. Ah asked Obai tuh look into it.”

“What about Tatooine?”

“Just one lead. The exist’nce of tha’ facility was secret. Only a few Jedi knew about it. Even Obai didn’ know its location until ‘e was there. Mos’ of th’ Council are accounted for. So it has t’ be SIS.”

“Interesting. That cuts our suspect list down. Perhaps it was this… Theron Shan. Is he…?”

“Aye. E’s no’ very good at hidin’ it.”

“Imagine if he were willing to put his talents to a constructive purpose. Alas, he won’t be receptive to overtures now. In any case, I’m glad you made it back in time. I wanted your opinion on Mirabelle Travvor. You met her, didn’t you?”

“Aye. She’s a true Revanite Old Guard, just like Lord Darkspanner. Not interest’d in power or advancement. Jus’ knowledge. An’ security.”

“Security?”

“She wants to live in peace. Relative peace, that is. T’ pursue ‘er own interests.”

“Will she go along with our plans?”

“I think she will.” But where what were their plans, Jerre asked himself. An attack on Tython? A raid on Korriban? Jerre had helped steal artifacts from each site, so he had seen firsthand, the number of dead children. And worse, the wounded and traumatized ones.

“Good. These tasks on Falleen and Jabiim are very important. I put Darth Travvor on them, because Darkspanner holds her in high esteem. It cannot be allowed to fail. It’s one of my most important plans. With them in my possession, victory is guaranteed.”

Yes. Victory. That was all that mattered. Victory. And peace.

The Order of Revan would bring the peace that the innocents of the galaxy so desperately craved. The thought gave Jerre some comfort.

*

Chapter Text

Docking Bay Besh-7

It was around dawn. Vette was still fast asleep, but Ray disembarked for his morning exercises. He found guests waiting for him outside his ship.

“Ah. Captain Wolf. You wake up early for a pirate.”

“Wasn’t always a pirate. Some habits die unbearably hard.”

“Right. I take it, you’ve thought of my offer?”

“Yes. We’re in. I could use the money.”

“Good. I can pay you half up front.”

“How about we discuss details too? Over breakfast. My lover here is a good cook.”

“I have some ingredients,” the human said, raising a small sack full of what had to be veggies and grains.

Ugh. Ray hated veggies. But he smiled. “Splendid! Vette and I are known to burn down kitchens and poison Rancors. Please. Come right in.”

“You’re not worried about us nicking something?”

“If anything goes missing, you’re declaring a kleptomania war with my little Vette.”

“What’s kleptomania?” Knave asked.

His Captain shrugged. “Going off context, I think it means she’s going to get angry and mark us for death.”

“Nothing so bad. Kleptomania is like a stealing addiction. You might just wake up to find your favorite shoes missing. Or your underwear.”

“Eww, gross. She’s that kind, is she?”

“Well, if she really wants my underwear…”

Ray’s laughter was loud in his ears. “She doesn’t want it. She wants to inconvenience you by making you work. And laugh while you’re scrambling around.”

“Ugh. Fine. We won’t steal anything.”

“Good woman! Come aboard. This is the Scimitar Smile. It’s a standard Fury-class Interceptor, but I’m proud of the décor.”

The interior of the ship was heavily decorated. The light-yellow walls were covered in small trophies and souvenirs from his travels. Aside from the more expensive ornaments, there were also sea shells, trinkets, pinecones, windchimes, paintings, statues, bas reliefs, weapons, tapestries, mirrors, and books.

Again, Ray was reminded not to let appearances deceive him. Knave ignored the gaudy stuff, and when he looked at the paintings, he looked like he was admiring the work, rather than appraising its value. He also took a keen interest in the books, and asked about some of the shells.

Wolf, on the other hand, stayed on target. She made straight for the lounge and made herself comfortable. “Knave, would you mind getting the grub ready? We can admire everything later.”

Her partner nodded, then looked to Ray, who pointed. “The kitchen is that way. Think of it as your own.”

“So what time does your partner wake?” Captain Wolf asked him.

“Around 0800. The smell of a good breakfast might jolt her awake on its own. Since we’re going to be working together, maybe we can break the ice. Tell me about yourself. And your partner.”

“My name is Rosetta Wolf. I was born on Denon. My parents were freelancers. I grew up on merchant ships, helping my folks with their odd jobs. When I turned fourteen, I got my first blaster, and thought that made me invincible. I ran afoul of some Black Sun mercs, and ended up in their slave pens. They had a lot of other prisoners there. Galahad Knave was one of them. No one thought to teach him much in his childhood, so he was… well, I thought he was a bit dim. He was just going to be my tool to escape, and his own freedom would be his price. Or so I thought. But he learned quickly, and followed my instructions well.”

“How did you escape the Black Suns?”

“Knave would distract them while I stole things I needed. Lockpicks, data spikes, maps, clearance codes, and even weapons. Once I knew the layout of the prison, he helped me set traps for the Suns. Some of them. I locked the rest in their quarters and sabotaged the ventilation systems.”

“Smart.”

“It only worked because Knave was such a good distraction. It took me a while to realize just how much I owed my freedom to him. I also owed a little something to my genes. I was still an ugly little girl at fourteen. I only bloomed into this vision later.” She indicated her current self, which would’ve been enough to get Ray’s heart racing before he met Vette. “It was thanks to that, that the Suns didn’t think to put me among their sex slaves.” She looked sad, even guilty.

“What happened to the other prisoners?”

“What? Oh. They’re free. Galahad let them all go. I wish I’d thought of that, but I was only thinking about myself. Most of the prisoners returned to their families with what spoils they could carry. Knave stayed with me. We traveled together after that, and in what seemed like no time flat, he’d started to make up for lost time. Picked up reading and writing, learned several languages, got quite good with simple machines, and learned to fight like a man possessed. He loved me right from the start, in a way I’d never felt before. I was happy to have such a gorgeous hunk as my lover. But I found myself returning those feelings after a little while.” She sighed and looked Ray in the eye. “I was just keeping him around for my own ego, at first. But one day, I woke up beside him and realized that the good morning kiss I gave him came from love, not lust. I wanted to make him happy. I wanted to stay by his side even if things started to go sour. I was willing to stand and fight alongside him, even if it put my own life at considerable risk for no gain. I wanted to grow old with him. Maybe have a brat or two of my own someday. And that’s when I realized that I didn’t deserve him. I never did.”

“I know that feeling.”

“I thought you might. Well, I’m still a criminal. I can’t be much else. But he’s the soft spot I’m proud to have. He humanizes me. Maybe he’ll stop me from becoming a demented freak. You have any similar hopes?”

“Sort of, yes. I’ll be honest; I thought you two weren’t serious. Or you weren’t.”

“I’m a thrill seeker, it’s true. So what about you?”

*

Vette could always count on her nose to alert her to some good grub. She snuck into the kitchen and took a slow peek inside. She didn’t need to, to know that it wasn’t Ray in there. He was as bad with the ole frying pan as she was. Instead, she found a blond human male whom she didn’t recognize right away.

She thought she’d been sneaky, but he turned around and pointed a spoon in her direction as if he’d known all along.

“Taste test?” Vette asked. The man nodded. She approached cautiously, glaring suspiciously the whole time. Her scowl was pointed between the handsome face and the hot, brown food in equal measure. She eventually caved and took the spoon and plopped it into her mouth. “Mmmm!” she said, nodding appreciatively. “What’s the stew for?”

“I’m going to mix it with chickpeas, then serve it with flatbread.”

“Nice! So who are you, anyway?”

“Call me Knave.”

“Ohhh, that’s right! Captain Wolf’s bodyguard!”

Knave grinned at her proudly. “Lover first.”

Vette giggled. “Lover more than a fighter? I can respect that.” She was fully awake now, and her memories had finally come back to her. She recalled Ray saying there was something off about this guy, and decided to decode this pirate. That’ll learn him to tease me!

“So, what’s your story?” she asked.

“Zetta saved my life. I’m with her. I’ll die for her. That’s all that’s important.”

“Zetta?”

“Wolf. Rosetta Wolf. My Captain.”

“Oh.”

“Candy bar?” he asked, taking out a big one and offering her the first bite. She accepted, and he let her have the whole thing. “What about you? What’s your story?”

“Me? I’m just Vette. A thief.”

“What do you steal, other than Lord Scorn’s heart?”

“Oh, just this and that,” Vette grinned wide.

“Done any heists with him before?”

“Ohhh, you have no idea!” Vette cackled. “Our relationship is built on daring thievery and running away from stumbling bad guys.”

“Oh?”

“It’s true!” She munched on the chocolate. “Like that time he proposed after! It was three of us that day, me, Ray, and his best friend Mirabelle. This buddy of mine named Jasme wanted my help getting a bunch of old texts from a Hutt’s pleasure barge. Very rare, the only known complete works by some… some old writer named… Sorgal, I think. Can you guess what they were doing there?”

Blondie hesitated. “He… wanted to show off to someone?”

“No! Well. Kinda. He wanted to grind them into powder and sprinkle them on his food.”

“NO!”

“Exactly! Major ‘ewww,’ right? Who wants to eat powdered, seven-hundred-year-old parchment? A Hutt looking to use rare ‘ingredients’ as a flex, apparently.”

“How did you get it out?”

“Don’t ignore the food, please. I don’t wanna be the reason you burn my breakfast.” She waited for blondie to resume before carrying on. “So. The Hutt—Drooga—has a love of exotic ingredients. He has this gallery where guests go ‘ooooo!’ and ‘aaaah!’ while everyone makes their way through a gazillion-course meal. And the yacht moved from one place to the next every few hours. So, the parchments were in plain view of every person in the yacht. The only thing going for us, was that it was in the darkest corner, hidden behind a display of some foss-il-ized fern. A damned fossil!”

“What’s a fossil?”

“Umm.” Dammit, that was a good question! This was one of those things that she knew, but didn’t know. “Ask Captain Wolf.”

“Good idea. She’s smart.”

“So, anyway. We chose to make our move at this place where the camera and security were handled by a third party, not related to the Hutts. We got this spy called Cipher Fifteen to help us out with the technical side of things. More than that, Fifteen crosswired some of the droids to go haywire. I gave the idea that, instead of a violent distraction, the droids instead start a famous erotic comedy that was all the rage at the time. Complete with moans!”

“Erotic?”

Damn, this guy’s Basic is a little lacking, isn’t it? “Like… related to sex. No hiding behind wordplay or clever camera work. If it were human actors, you might see gen-et… gen… umm. Dicks and pussies.”

“Oh, okay.”

“As a backup, we were ready to blow the droids. And Mirabelle was standing by to loudly demand a refund. The distraction was a success. While everyone was lookin the other way, Ray pulled up our speeder beside the yacht. I entered through a hatch and crawled into the tunnels. I came out behind the display case with the fern, and replaced the parchment with some other parchment Jasme had prepared for us. Considering she’d done it overnight, it was a good forgery. I made the switch, then jumped overboard. Right into Ray’s arms. I have no idea how he got the timing so perfectly. I’d never swandived off a ship and into a man’s hands before. The moment was so thrilling that I started kissing him at once. And we could both hear the orgy—the sex party—that was starting up there, so I went deeper into it. Started kissing him like I meant it, and shit like that. I started taking off my blouse, and for a moment, we were seconds away from having sex right next to the scene of the crime. But then I just stopped. I told him that I’d promised my mother I’d save my first time for my wedding night, if I could. The only promise I managed to keep. I thought I’d upset Ray, but instead, he set me down and pulled out a ring from his pocket.” Vette carefully showed it to him. “He said ‘Easiest problem I ever solved. Wanna marry me?’ And I just started dancing like a kid and shouting ‘Yes!’” Vette laughed hard, clutching her stomach.

“I remember Drooga the Hutt,” the pirate said. “And I remember he died two years ago. Not us.”

“Oh. He’s dead?”

“Yes.”

“Cool! No more rare ingredient feasts from him!”

“But putting him aside. What’s your reason for not marrying Lord Scorn yet? It’s been two years. Are you facing any problems from family? I have a friend who is.”

“Oh. Damn. Well… I don’t know.” Vette munched on the last bit of candy before answering him honestly. “I’m… I’m afraid.”

“Of what? Lord Scorn?”

“No, no! My lover boy wouldn’t hurt a fly. No, I’m scared of what comes after. Right now, it’s all rainbows, and cute heist-dates. My sister got married to a smalltime businessman named Hallam Jude. They were really in love, at first. But in no time at all, it went to ordinary.”

“Ordinary?”

“Don’t get me wrong, they’re still happy. Most of the time. But their life is all about the boring things now. He works, she raises their babies, and they went out on vacation once in the past two years. And two dates. The love’s still there. The magic’s not.”

“So… you want your whole life to be some magical adventure?”

“Yes. Yes, yes! Is that so bad?”

“Does Lord Scorn know what you think?”

Vette’s shoulders drooped. “Well… no…”

“Then it’s bad.” He took the stew off the flame and placed a pan to heat the flatbread.

Vette nodded, thinking about what the man had said. “I don’t wanna lose the magic. But I don’t wanna lose Ray, either.”

“Then tell him.”

Vette dashed out of the kitchen, strangely blessed with clarity thanks to the man’s simple wisdom. His Basic might be bad, but he knew up from down and left from right, that was for sure.

*

Lana was a little surprised when Vette barged into the lounge and insisted on a private discussion with her fiancé. The disguised Sith shrugged, and lay back in the couch as her hosts entered their bedroom for a heart-to-heart. A part of her wanted to look around on the ship for the schematics the Revanites were using, but she doubted they’d allow such documents to leave their base. Besides, while it was easy to sneak around in a ship like this, she’d have to disappear to do it. And that would raise red flags.

Instead, she waited for Vajra to bring in the food in two large casseroles.

“Ah, you’re a bit early, my Knave. Vette wanted a word with Lord Scorn.”

“Kay.”

Lana moved her head so Vajra could place his thigh beneath it. He began stroking her hair in gentle, smooth motions.

“Magic,” Vajra whispered. “Wolf, do you think there’s magic between us?”

“Of course there is. There’s just the right mixture of thrills, love, passion, and silent proximity. That means togetherness, in this case.”

“Oh, I see! Would that change, if we get married?”

“Maybe. Would that bother you?”

“No.”

“Me neither. Sometimes, I remember that the galaxy is against us. I’ll be grateful for every chance we get together. I hope. And every time I think about you, I feel this unwavering resolve to face a galaxy full of thugs, Jedi, and Sith by your side. Thinking of your name gives me energy. Picturing your face makes me smile, even when times are difficult.”

“I… I love you, Wolf. And I feel the same way. I’d fight my monster again for you, no matter how many times he comes back to haunt us.”

“Awwww. I love you too, Knave.” She kissed his hand. “Don’t rock me to sleep, please. Wait till we’re back in our room.”

*

“What’s this about, Vette?”

“I had a chat with that weird guy. Knave.”

“Oh? What did you discover?”

“Ray, I need to ask you something. Do you like what we’ve got going? The adventures, the tombs, the parties, the stealing, the running, the daring escapes, and the dates afterwards?”

“Of course I do!”

“I’m worried that it’ll all go away, once we get married. That we’ll become this quiet, boring, domestic couple like Tivva and Hallam.”

“How long have you been worrying about this?”

“Since the beginning. I mean, you have to have seen it, right?” Vette turned her eyes to him, and they were filled with trepidation. “They were dating almost as fun as we were! They were willing to go out on adventures, every other week! They went parachuting, bungee jumping, cave diving… and now they’ve stopped!”

“They have a responsibility to their children. They can’t be reckless anymore. But that’s what you want, isn’t it? To continue the daring adventures.”

“Yes!”

“Then we won’t change. Not until you’re ready to.” He kissed her. “But… my sweet little Vette… magic always ends. Or changes. Even if we just… continue as we are, you’re going to wake up one day, a changed woman. Wanting different things. And these needn’t include children, or a ‘domestic’ lifestyle. Maybe you’ll want to become a politician. Or a writer. Or an actress. Or maybe you’ll want to go on solo trips. Tour the galaxy. You can’t stop the galaxy from turning.”

“Can’t I?”

“Not if you had all of Lady Kai’s wealth and power. Not if you had a billion times that.”

Vette glared at him. “I don’t want things to change.”

“Then they won’t. For now. Whether we get married or not.”

“Is this you, asking me to fix up a date again?”

Ray smiled mischievously. “Maybe.”

“How long do you need?”

“What? To send out all the invites, find a venue, arrange for caterers and waiters and musicians… Maybe six months.”

“Alright then.” She checked the date. “You’d better get started. I want you nailing me to your bed exactly six months from today.”

Ray picked her up for a passionate kiss. “Our bed,” he corrected her. “Now let’s not keep our guests waiting, shall we?”

*

Chapter Text

Vajra helped Aurik Kepler prepare the meal. The Zabrak didn’t talk much outside of work, which was fine for the Raudra. He knew he was bad at lying, so the less he talked, the less danger of him blurting out something that gave the game away. But he didn’t like leaving Lana alone in a den of snakes like this.

At least she wasn’t alone. He could trust Vette, he knew that much. And while he didn’t trust Darth Scorn, he was certain he wasn’t a bad man.

These others though. The Dowutin and Zabrak were quite neutral and professional. He felt certain that they would pose no problems unless they—that was the say Vajra alone—did something suspicious.

But the Chagrian and Cathar were bad news. He knew Ribaulden Joars from Balmorra; he was also a good friend whom Doctor Kimble used to love bragging about. Well, Kimble bragged about a lot of his friends, and many were decent enough, if grim. But Joars… the man had been caught stealing from the Balmorran Resistance, though that was just what they’d been able to prove him guilty of. It was only later—after he’d disappeared—that his true crimes had come to light. Torture and execution of POWs, harassment of Balmorran ‘collaborators,’ and falsifying orders. He also knew about Jumai Tarr’s reputation from Captain Elara Dorne—who never spread idle gossip. She was a smuggler, pleasure-seeker, and black-market profiteer. She had also been accused of stalking and breaking-and-entering. And worst of all, transporting slaves.

Not that Vajra had any latitude to judge. He was one of the most prolific killers alive today, with a kill count in the five digits. Many of them were under his own steam.

“You alright?” The Zabrak asked. “You look ready to skewer that beet.”

“Sorry,” Vajra apologized. “I’ve had some troubles in my life, and I get flashbacks sometimes.”

“What, in particular?”

“I had to kill people.”

“Aww. The poor pirate had to kill people. Sorry, that came out wrong. You’re in the wrong profession, if you’re against killing. And I don’t mean directly. People will die as a result of your actions.”

“I do what I must,” Vajra replied.

“Why?”

“For those I love.”

“I thought you were a crew of two.”

“I have other friends and loved ones out there.”

“Right.”

“Besides. We do plan to expand our crew.”

“What kind of crewmates are you looking for?”

“Whoever the Captain likes.”

“You not afraid she’ll replace you, when she finds a prettier lump of meat?”

“I am,” he admitted. “Can’t say what she sees in me.”

Kepler laughed. “You’re a good fighter, from what I heard. And you’re easy on the eyes.”

“Is that enough?”

“Well… good point. Can you satisfy her in bed? Can you make her heart race? Can you make her feel safe when you finally take a load off?”

“I like to think so.”

“Right. I wish you luck. You won’t be the first fresh-faced young man who got dumped by his vivacious, foxy lover when she found a better option.”

“What’s vivacious?”

“Try and guess. So anyway, how is that dish coming along?”

“Take a look.”

“Nice.” The Zabrak patted his back roughly. “If she really does dump you, you can find your way to us. Good cooks are always nice to have.”

“Thank you. But I’ll only leave the Captain if she asks me to.”

“You’re way too loyal. Or simple. I can’t tell which.”

*

Lana didn’t have to work too hard to figure out where the documents were being kept. Now, all she had to do was come back and steal it in the wee hours of the night. She resented having to sacrifice a good night’s sleep, but there was no other choice.

When did I get so defensive of my sleep schedule?... right after I started using Vajra’s chest as my pillow, probably.

Remembering Vajra’s insights into the two Revanites he’d recognized, Lana kept a wary eye on them.

The Cathar, Jumai Tarr, was watching her every move. Lana felt a sudden desire for a long bath, but just sighed. “I’m not interested, Tarr.”

“You only say that coz you haven’t seen what I can offer,” the Cathar bared her fangs in a tight grin. “I know how to use my fingers and tongue. And I have the most fascinating collection of toys in my footlocker. Come on now… just let me touch that bouncy tit of yours! You know you want me to… I can take you places your farmboy never could.”

“You’d be surprised. He takes me places most Hyperdrives couldn’t manage.”

“Maybe I’ll go after him, then.”

Lana reacted with such ferocity that it frightened even herself. In a blink, she was in the Cathar’s face with a blade digging into her throat. “Know your place, bitch.”

The woman whimpered. She looked too cowed to even say a word.

Arakel Xomans and Ribaulden Joars burst into the room, having been alerted by the crashing table. Lana cursed. Why had she reacted so strongly? The answer was simple, or so she told herself. She’d acted in character, dug too deeply into her cover. In a pinch, she could take all three of these clowns out, and Vajra could handle everyone else. Even Scorn. But if either he or Vette were harmed, Tiarna Kai would be very upset. And letting either go was its own risk.

Stowing her concerns, she ignored the two men who were demanding to know what had happened. “Stay the fuck away from my man, worm bait,” she growled at the Cathar. “And me too, while you’re at it.”

She released the Cathar right as Vajra and the Iridonian entered with their lunch. She waited for them to set down the vessels, then marched up to Vajra and gave him a very strong kiss that was intended to convey that he was marked just for her.

“You’re my man, Wolf,” she said in a heated growl. “And no one else’s.”

He gave her a grin filled with happiness as he accepted the second kiss. Lana pointedly glared, first at Jumai—who was still shaking—then at everyone else in the room—by this time that included everyone else, even Vette.

She didn’t need good hearing to know what Jumai was hissing under her breath.

Bring it on, cultist. If you’re stupid enough to fall for this provocation, none of your friends will even lift a finger to help.

*

Arakel Xomans was unsurprised, but displeased. “What were you thinking?” he berated Jumai. “That everyone would fold before your advances? You’re pretty enough by a lot of standards, but you need to know when you’re putting your nose into the wrong button!”

“That bitch—”

“YOU’RE THE BITCH!” Arakel roared back. “How often must I tell you? Don’t hit on the hired help! Especially if they’re in a relationship with someone else! And doubly especially, if they’re proven fighters! The next time your mouth lands you in trouble, we won’t stop you from getting your just desserts! In case you didn’t get the memo, we need them more than they need us!”

“I’m sorry—”

“No, you’re not! Not yet! Damned slaver scum! Back in my day, your kind of scum wouldn’t have been allowed in our group!”

“Well, your days are over, aren’t they, ugly?” Jumai growled, but shrank back when Arakel cracked his knuckles.

“Tell me again, what you just said. NOW!”

The Cathar jumped, as did Kepler. “The Order is different now,” she said reluctantly. “We’re not a tame bunch of philosophers. We’re looking to bring peace to this galaxy.”

“And you think you can bring peace?” Ribaulden growled at her. “You’re along for the ride, that’s all. Why, I’d have ripped you to shreds and fed you to your own kath hounds, if our paths had crossed before the Order of Revan—”

“Rib,” Arakel said warningly, and the Chagrian sighed.

“Sorry. But I’m with the Dowutin. You shouldn’t be here.”

“She was chosen by Obai,” Kepler shrugged.

“On this mission, yes! She shouldn’t be with us at all!”

“Um. Excuse me.” Darth Scorn had entered the room. “I’m sorry to interrupt your disciplinary session, but another group I’d reached out to has come to see what we’re offering.”

“Much appreciated, my Lord,” Ribaulden stood up the same time as Arakel. “I’ll join you for the briefing shortly.”

*

Jabiim

Jasme was sitting at a busy, open-air library café in broad daylight. She couldn’t believe what she was doing.

Strangely, this tactic had been suggested by Vajra, of all people. For whatever reason, he seemed certain that this wasn’t as risky as hiding. Lana seemed to agree. Only Theron was vehemently opposed, but even he couldn’t answer the question of what would happen if Mirabelle did indeed have the ability to seek her out.

Jasme was looking through the annual Republic Archaeological Society’s journal, and was currently on the entry about her friend, Doctor Kari Raje, when a woman walked up to her and sat down opposite her.

Jasme’s shock was genuine. “Uwah!”

“If it isn’t Archivist Jasme. My Senses really didn’t deceive me!”

“You—Mira—I mean, Darth Travvor?”

“Mira is fine. We’re acquainted after all.” The Sith looked quite neutral, despite a small smile sitting on her face.

“Right. How did you find—you said you Sensed me? Don’t tell me you came all the way from Corvus!”

The Sith laughed. “No, no! No, I don’t have that long a range. I was here on business; I Sensed you from close by.”

“Business!? The Sith aren’t invading Jabiim, are you?”

“Not to my knowledge. No, I’m here to pick up a parcel for a dear friend. And I happened to Sense your presence. What are the odds?”

“Yeah… what are the odds!”

“No doubt you’re wondering why I’m here. In front of you, I mean.”

Jasme swallowed. Again, her fear and nervousness was real. “You… you Sensed me, and were curious?”

“In part. Tiarna Rooks told me your real story. And I wanted to meet you.”

“I see…”

“Why are you so scared? It’s not like I’m going to hurt you.”

“Can you blame me? I was on Tython when your best friend’s former Master attacked us. I was almost killed by Sith and their troops!”

“We are at war, after all. Not to mention, that former Master was killed. By your best friend.”

“Then you understand why I’m nervous to be around you!”

“Oh, you expect me to kill you for revenge?” Mirabelle chuckled. “No. If Ray wants revenge, he’ll take it himself. And he isn’t exactly crying all night about Occlus’ death. His exact words were ‘Oh... he's dead? Oh. Moving on!’ and then he returned to playing with the puppy I bought him for his birthday.”

“How is Lord Scorn? Has he married Vette yet? What are they doing now?”

“Rrayden is on Falleen. Another errand that I need help with. Vette is with him. And their marriage… who knows? I did hear though, that Jedi Vajra was the reason you were so dull the last time we spoke. You’d heard he was dead. If I’d known, I would’ve been even nicer to you.”

“Thank you. But he’s alive.”

“I’ll say! Escaped captivity, saved your life, and killed the Emperor. He made a return with a bang. And now he’s saved you again! The Tiarna was jealous!”

Jasme laughed. “Of Vajra? He’s my brother, and she knows it!”

“Does she? You’re one of the most beautiful women anyone will ever meet. It’s a miracle if he’s not madly in love with you.”

“Yeah, I’ve seen him in love. I know he’s not.”

“I’ll pass that along. So, why are you here, on Jabiim?”

“A pilgrimage. There’s a famous Jedi tomb here. Well… famous in certain circles.”

“Is there, indeed?” Travvor’s pupils were narrow.

“Yes.”

“What can you tell me about them?”

“Her name is Visas Marr. She was a Miraluka who lived around the time of… the Mandalorian Wars.” She’d almost said Revan, but she was already past sick of her ancestor. “She was a close companion of Raya Kol, also known as the Jedi Exile.”

“I’ve heard about her. She was the only Jedi brave enough—or fool enough—to return to the Council for sentencing.”

“A bit of both, some would say. But she knew what was about to happen to her, and had nowhere else to go, anyway. She didn’t go there expecting mercy. She wanted to show the Jedi Council that she had no regrets… no matter what they’d do to her afterwards. The Council at the time was full of blowhards and pricks. They banished her, when they should’ve tried to understand her.”

Jasme told her the story of the Exile, the Triumvirate, and Visas Marr in much greater detail than Theron; quite aware of the other woman’s fondness for history. Lady Travvor did not interrupt, except with questions and exclamations once in a while.

When Jasme was finished talking, she leaned back with raised eyebrows. “Blast it… that’s a wonderful tale. Rather more impressive than the one I was told.”

“I’m used to telling stories.”

“So it would seem.” Lady Travvor turned her gaze back to Jasme. “I would like to see this tomb, if possible.”

“Good luck. I hope it’s all I’ve made it out to be. Wait… you’re not planning on taking the Mask, are you?”

“Just want to see it, since I’m here.”

“I got it. I still can’t take you. I wouldn’t be able to take Vajra, even. For obvious reasons, the tomb’s location is a secret. Get clearance from the Jedi Council, then we’ll talk.”

Lord Travvor’s disappointment was evident. “I understand.” She stood. “You’re still not able to think of me as ‘Mira,’ are you? Don’t worry. I don’t want to get on Lady Kai’s bad side. If I hurt you, I’d spend the rest of my life in mortal terror. I think Darth Nox is unlikely to get a good night’s sleep for the next century, after the stunt he pulled on Tython. Take care, Jasme. I hope we meet again, someday. Maybe at Vette’s wedding. Or maybe at yours.”

It was only then that Jasme suspected a different motive for Lady Trav—Mira’s visit. She wanted to let her know that Kai loved and missed her. That she still had friends on the other side. A giggle escaped her throat when she recalled the hint that Darth Nox had incurred her wrath. She wished Mira had let on just a smidge more.

She sighed. She wished she could just go back to Kouhaush Muin and pick up right where they left off… but how? She didn’t want to return while there was open warfare between the two sides. She thought of Vajra and Lana, who had recently started dating.

They’d both looked so happy together, in those stills from their first date.

What are you thinking, Vajra? How do you plan to be with Lana?

She realized that she really wanted to hear the answer the next time they met.

*

Theron was immensely relieved when he saw Darth Travvor walking away from his twin. If she’d gotten hurt, he would’ve dropped everything and tried to get revenge on Vajra for suggesting such a risky meeting. But it seemed that he was much more astute than Theron had given him credit for.

He remembered the Raudra’s arguments; that Jasme had won virtually everyone to her side during her stay there. That Darth Travvor wasn’t a bloodthirsty harpy. That she didn’t look like the sort to risk Tiarna Rooks’ displeasure.

The encounter had gone on much as Vajra had predicted. And it had confirmed that Darth Travvor could, indeed, track people. It was just as well she’d met Jasme like this, instead of walking in on their lodgings later.

As agreed, he’d stay out of Jasme’s way until she returned to her room. It had been a good idea to get a different room for her, in case Travvor wanted a follow-up. He decided against trailing Travvor, whose Senses were now proven to be the real deal. He knew where she was going anyway. And where their end goal was.

To the estate where her partners currently stayed. Lord Turan Rasmus, and five of his loyal aides. They’d really drawn the short straw with this. Theron was not confident of being able to handle two level-headed Sith. Especially if he couldn’t use Jasme. For he was certain that Travvor would keep an eye on her, and check out any place she happened to visit.

What do we do? he wondered. Maybe it was time to call in some support.

*

The sound of a distant violin filled the air, and the smell of a thousand varieties of orchids.

Mirabelle was still thinking about Jasme when she got back to the estate. She could keep an eye on her; make note of any wide or erratic movements. But that would force her to dedicate most of her focus to tracking a lone target. But was it better than the alternative? She’d not had any luck tracking the tomb itself this way. Nor had her partners found any hints of where it might be located in the local libraries.

She admired the statue as she waited for Odarith to open the door. She liked that statue. It was of a goli cat that had supposedly saved this estate’s first owner from a violent mugging at the cost of her own life. As a result, the man had installed a larger-than-life monument to the feline, paying extra to get the details just right.

That fur looked quite organic. And soft. If someone were to tell her that every single guest ran their fingers—or their faces—through to test whether it was real, she would believe them. The eyes sparkled with the curiosity and feline intelligence that all cats were famous for. They also conveyed a need for attention which was almost irresistible. There was a windchime around her neck which chimed in even the lightest breeze despite being so big.

A living cat rubbed his flank against Mira’s leg, and another leapt onto her shoulder.

“Awww, do widdle kitties want mommy’s attention?” she cooed. She scratched behind the ears of the cat at her ankles, and allowed the one on her shoulder to lick her fingers. More cats began to turn up, alerted to her presence by the guard cats soft yowls.

Odarith answered a moment before she was drowning in mewling kittens. The violin grew louder with the door open, entrancing the kittens with its tune.

“Your timing is always just so, isn’t it?” Mira asked him. “Long enough to meet the cats, not so long that we run off and forget about the people in this establishment.”

“I’ve spent three months mastering the art,” Odarith said proudly. “Lord Rasmus chose this estate for the cats, after all!”

“And it’s worth every decicred. Even if that legend isn’t true, the beasts are quite therapeutic.” If she recalled correctly, it was costing Turan twelve thousand credits every day just to live here. That didn’t count the costs of upkeep, cleaning, and food. All in all, he’d spent over 1.5 million credits during the course of this mission. Even his finances might be under strain, if this went on another month.

She entered the main hall to see a Pureblood Sith standing in front of the balcony, playing his violin for a small, exclusive audience of the most distinguished families… cats. He was playing for an ever-increasing bunch of cats.

Because of course.

Why did I go through that monologue? She asked herself amusedly. That’s Vette’s style. Or Ray’s.

She waited patiently for Turan to finish his concert before applauding politely. “Bravo.”

Turan turned and bowed to her; a deep, courtly bow, before swooping upto her and taking her hand in his. He gently pulled her waist closer and asked, “Would my lady like this dance?”

“Normally, you ask that before you swoop the lady off her feet!”

“Normally, the lady might say no.” He turned her around, and began a very slow waltz. His nose almost touched hers. Mira smiled, feeling drawn to his lips. But she refrained from submerging into the kiss she yearned for.

“Mmm. I’ve been too permissive with you, I see. Maybe I need to start playing a little again.”

Turan smiled and twirled her a few times. “What’s a courtship without games?”

“A library with no shelves.”

“A garden with no birds.”

“A sea with no waves.”

“A rainbow with just one color.”

“A painter without a vial of red.”

She giggled, and finally pulled him closer for that kiss. She was already breathing hard when she broke off. “More comes later,” she promised.

“Miser.” The disappointment on his red face was exaggerated. His pout highlighted the ridges on his cheekbones.

“Anyway, I came to talk about that Presence I’ve been feeling. Call the others, would you?”

Turan released her and hit the intercom. He began playing with the violin while they waited for the rest of their team. This song was less classical, more random. Far from noise, though.

Soon, everyone of their associates were in the hall. Ladra, once a close confidante of the Master of the Order, now fallen on harder times. Jhorval, who was once tasked with helping new members through the Ritual of Rebirth. Kasta, Saravi, Velma, and Hasref were the scholars from Turan’s own household—and fellow members of the Order. There were also several Mandalorians, led by Cetta Farr, and Turan’s Apprentice, his cousin Varrageion.

“Do you have news?” Jhorval asked.

“Sort of. I chased down that presence I’ve been Sensing. It turned out to be a Jedi Archivist I was once acquainted with. We had a long chat. She knows about the Tomb of Visas Marr.”

“At last!” Ladra cried, a wide smile fixing itself on her dark red face. “Quickly, let us get our hands on her! We can torture the information out of her! I promise, I can have her dropping secrets she heard in the womb in a few days!”

“Out of the question,” Mira warned. “This one was a close friend of Tiarna Kairegane Rooks. If we hurt her, odds are that the Scarlet Queen will hear about it. She will reduce all of our compounds to dust within a week.”

“The Scarlet Queen is weak,” Ladra sneered.

“The Dark Council thought so,” Turan chided her. “Until she captured all of their assets in one single afternoon. However deluded you are, you can’t believe that we’re more powerful than the Dark Council.”

“Our Lord is more than a match for her,” Ladra said stubbornly.

“But are we a match for the Dracogriffs?” Cetta asked. “She threatened Mandalore himself into backing down. It’s not everyone whose threats a Mandalorian won’t take as a dare. And she has more than just her shocktroops. Her academies are the best source of disciplined soldiers in the galaxy.”

“She still needs to find us,” Jhorval pointed out. “All of our bases are secret.”

“Not as secret as we’d like to pretend. If she dedicates all of her resources to uncovering Jasme’s kidnappers, there will be no corner of the galaxy where she won’t find us.”

“Jasme…” Ladra said thoughtfully. Mira ground her teeth. She had never liked the woman. She was far too fanatical, and the recent reorganization had only distilled her insanity.

“Besides, that’s not the real issue here. There’s something else she said that I found illuminating.”

“Go on.”

“She said, and I quote, ‘I wouldn’t be able to take Vajra, even. For obvious reasons, the tomb’s location is a secret. Get clearance from the Jedi Council, then we’ll talk.’ Vajra, of course, is the Crown Reaper. The most famous and accomplished Jedi in the Galaxy.” At the Mandalorians’ looks of incomprehension, she went on, “This tomb’s location is a secret beyond even his clearance. It’s no wonder we haven’t been able to find it. There’s no way it’s on public records.”

“You really should’ve kidnapped this Archivist,” Jhorval grated. “Why approach her at all? If you’d broken into her room in the middle of the night, you wouldn’t have put her on her guard. Now, she’ll be on watch for every moving shadow.”

“Look, how about I just make this clear? She’s off-limits,” Mira said baldly. “You try to hurt her, you die. Clear?”

Ladra’s eyes glittered, but Jhorval sighed and piped down.

“Listen, Precious,” Cetta spoke up at last. “I don’t care how squeamish you are, or how much Rooks and the Reaper scare you. From where I’m sitting, this Archivist was our only lead in months. What are you gonna do, waltz right in and take it from the Jedi Archives restricted section? Persuade a Council member to give us clearance?”

“We could trick her into taking us there,” Turan said. “But I wouldn’t count on it. I hate to say it, my Lady. But Cetta’s right. This Jasme was our best lead.”

“Don’t we have any Council Members in our ranks?”

“The closest thing was Master Oteg. He was the one who told the Master about the tomb, after all. But he’s dead.”

“I will admit, I made a mistake approaching her. I had no idea she was on the same business as we were. Worse, I had no idea she knew about the tomb, much less its whereabouts. In fact, I wasn’t sure it was her at all. I only met her thrice before she was ransomed back to the Jedi, and thought I recognized her presence. But that was then. If I’d known, I might have attempted to trick her, or follow her. Instead, I blew it. But I stand firm on this point: we are not hurting her. I do not condone torture.”

“‘I do not condone torture,’” Ladra repeated in a singsong voice. “You are a deadweight, Travvor. Always have been.”

“Unlike a certain someone, who sent a hundred and thirty-seven initiates to their deaths trying to claim that useless mask,” Turan said snidely. “You almost exposed us to Grathan. If not for Mirabelle, he’d have discovered us.”

Ladra glared at him.

“We’re back to square one here,” Cetta said angrily. “What do we do about the Tomb now?”

“There was something else Jasme let slip,” Mira replied thoughtfully. “It’s a pilgrimage site among ‘certain circles.’ I think that means Jedi Masters, especially Council Masters. If we change what we’re searching for—look for the Masters’ movements during their stays here—we might be able to find out more.”

“Good idea,” Turan said firmly. “Let’s start immediately, alright?”

“Meanwhile, I’ll continue to keep an eye on Jasme. Perhaps she’ll slip up, and reveal more.”

“If she doesn’t, we’re taking her,” Ladra repeated with a dangerous smile. “And you can try making your threats again when—” A look of consternation crossed her face, then she started to gasp for air. She was raised into the air clawing and pulling at her throat, which seemed to have stuck shut. Moments later, her windpipe caved in, and she fell dead, eyes rolling.

Turan looked around at everyone, who got the message at once and fled.

“I could’ve handled that,” Mira said.

Turan shrugged. “It wasn’t your authority she was flouting. It was mine. This is my home, at least for now. This cell is mine too, even if it’s your operation. I cannot tolerate such naked defiance.”

Mira snorted “It’s almost like we’re back among the Sith.”

“It is, isn’t it?”

“When did it get like this?” she asked him.

He shrugged. “I do not know. But perhaps we can return to our original purpose once we have peace.”

“Cheers.”

*

Jasme was fidgety all day. She almost screamed when a dark-skinned human entered the room.

“Hey! It’s just me,” said her brother’s voice. The human pressed a switch on his wrist, and turned into Theron Shan.

“Theron!” Jasme threw her arms around him. “It’s been a long day.”

“I know. I’m sorry. But you did well.”

“Thank you!”

“Hang on. The others are eager to hear what happened.” He set up a portable holotable and fiddled with it until it was secure. Then he hit send. Vajra, Lana, and Jakarro appeared almost at once.

“So, tell us what happened.”

“I dropped those hints about how secret that site is,” Jasme reported. “I also told her that it’s a secret pilgrimage site. I hope that was a wise move.”

“It was,” Theron assured her. “If you hadn’t, she might have thought you were the only way to get to the site. Now, she has options.”

“One of which we can keep an eye out for,” Vajra said softly. “With your credentials, you can see if anyone tries to access Temple records for the location.”

“Even better, you’ve confirmed some important pieces of information for us,” Lana said. Her voice was electronically modified to sound quite high-pitched. “None of the Jedi Councilors are in on the plot. If they were, Mirabelle would already have that location.”

“Now all that’s left is solving the crisis for good,” Jasme said. “But I don’t know how. We can’t move the tomb. Or the mask. I’m up for any ideas.”

“Actually, I had some thoughts about that,” Theron said. “The problem also gets solved if our quarry is chased off this world, and if the Jedi secure the site. Lana, I was hoping for your advice on something. And your help.”

“Oh? What’s that?”

“Is there any way we can get one of the other Sith here, looking for that Tomb? Excitedly and recklessly? Enough to get a small task force here?”

Lana smiled. “Ahhh, I like how you’re thinking. Yes, I think it will be easy to coax Darth Anathel into making a premature move. He’s part of the Sphere of Ancient Knowledge—Nox’s domain—and is eager to rise through the ranks fast enough to defeat his old rival, Xarion. It won’t take much to bait him into moving to Jabiim.”

“And I can leak info about Travvor and her pals,” Theron grinned. “They won’t be able to come back here after that. For a while, anyway.”

“There’s still the matter of the pilgrimage routes,” Vajra said. “How are you going to stop them from mapping out their flight paths?”

“I’ve already dealt with it. I doctored the flight paths so they land up in a small, nearly-as-secret ruin about three hundred kilometers to the north. And I’ve put some viruses into the files. It should give us a way in.”

“Well done,” Lana applauded enthusiastically. “I’ve come to expect no less.”

“We need to get going,” Vajra said apologetically. “We’re supposed to get our briefing pretty soon. Well done, Jasme. I knew you could do it!”

“I appreciate your vote of confidence.”

“Always.”

*

Chapter Text

The Caves of Hammon, Jabiim

Mirabelle Travvor was the first to leap off the speeder, eager to get the first glance of the ruin. Some of her compatriots were quite uncaring about things of historical and cultural significance.

She entered the caves and felt her breath taken away. There was a whole city in here, carved painstakingly out of the surrounding rock. It wasn’t some architectural marvel—in fact, most buildings went for function over form—but somewhere, someone had decided to build abstract statues—cylindrical columns with ridges and holes—and mosaics to give this place more personality.

How can a blind species be capable of such art anyway? Why would they even try?

She was thinking about finding out later, but was spared the trouble when a gust of wind entered the cave. The currents were channeled into the groves and ridges of the statues, producing haunting whistles that sent chills down her forearms. Above her, windchimes rang and swayed, adding to the melody. This place was a marvel!

There were also several wells that she could see, each with a small guardian idol placed facing the west.

“What is this place?” Cetta asked.

“From what I’ve been able to find out, a small group of Miraluka came and settled here, led by a former Senator named Kosash Hammon. The Senator resigned as soon as the news of his homeworld’s destruction reached his ears, and dedicated the next ten years of his life to finding and protecting as many of his people as he could. He despaired when he realized how low the numbers were, and led them to these caves to eke out a secluded existence.”

“Why these caves?” was Turan’s question.

“I do not know that,” Mira admitted. “I just know that eventually, most of his people did find the courage to return to galactic society. Hammon had already passed on by then, eaten away by survivor’s guilt. He and over a hundred Miraluka are entombed here, which is why I assume Visas Marr chose this as her final resting place.”

“Visas ‘Marr,’” Cetta chuckled at the name. “I wonder if she’s related to you-know-who.”

“It’s possible. She had septuplets before she died.”

“Septuplets?!!”

“Yes. Apparently, her kind can only conceive once in their lives, but can choose how many off-spring they can have at the time of conception. Most of the survivors went as high as they could, in order to rebuild numbers. Many went for quadruplets, but Visas went for seven. As you might imagine, that leads to a lot of possibilities, especially if one of her descendants had children with a different species. No one’s kept track.”

“Fascinating. Any idea where the tombs are?”

“No. The Republic barely know this place exists.”

“A good way to hide the existence of Visas Marr’s tomb,” Jhorval was eagerness itself. “And its secret. Well done, Travvor!”

“Spread out. Search for anything resembling a mausoleum. But try not to damage anything, if you could. This place is testament to a peoples’ ability to survive someone like Nihilus.”

*

In Orbit, early the next day

It was just a routine day for Captain Ottavia Derr. Routine was good. Routine meant there were no raids. No pirates, no Mandalorians, no Hutts. No pretenders to the long-dead Xim empire.

But best of all, it meant no Imperial invasion. There had been one, several decades ago. It had ended in an Imperial victory, as most wars did at the time. More recently, a Sith had arrived to launch a Dark Side attack on the locals here, which had burned an entire city.

The planet had been liberated after the Emperor’s death had led to a complete reversal of fortunes… but everyone here still remembered the cruelty, malice, and wanton carnage of the Sith.

Every day of peace, was a day to thank the ancient pantheon for. The Republic had left a small fleet here under her command, as well as a few orbital defenses, but she would be grateful if she could go to her grave without having to use these.

She went about her day, inspecting each post, making sure the many systems and hands of the ship were doing their job well. She took an extra minute to chat with a crewman whose wife was pregnant. When she returned to the bridge and sat down with a hot mug of caf in her hands, she made a prayer out loud.

“Let us pray for peaceful skies today.”

“Let us pray,” everyone echoed. It was a ritual they’d developed to feel closer and safer. Alas, today was one day when their prayer went unanswered.

Three Imperial Dreadnoughts and twelve Terminus-class cruisers emerged out of Hyperspace and bore down on her ship.

“SHIELDS UPPPP!” Derr screamed. “Captain Kolins, close the planetary shield and begin hailing the Republic for assistance! All ships, keep the Imp scum off our planet for as long as we can! For Jabiim!”

Everyone was frightened—the Sith Lord Fulminiss’ attack was still fresh in everyone’s memories, but everyone rallied to her cry.

“Incoming transmission, Sir,” Vice-Captain Giuseppe Lekks called. “It’s from the Imps.”

“Put it through.”

A Sith appeared on the screen, a short man with a black goatee and an elaborate headdress.

“This is Darth Anathel of the Sith Empire,” he sneered. “I believe we showed your people the cost of defying the Sith recently. Surrender, and you won’t see a repeat. Not today, at least.”

“Who here trusts a Sith?” Derr sneered back. “You fuckers are the type who can’t say ‘Good morning’ without lying twice¹! You’re probably going to land and kill everyone on principle!”

The Sith had the audacity to laugh. “It seems you do know us. But now, it’s going to be more painful.”

The Dreadnoughts opened fire, even though they were well out of range.

“Sir, we’ve just got a call from the Sector Defense fleet,” Lekks said. “There was a naval exercise in session today. They’re already on their way. They should be here in an hour.”

“An hour, eh?” the Captain smiled. “Good. Then there’s hope. Someone listened to us, after all. Order all ships to withdraw towards the north pole. Not too fast. Let’s draw this out as much as we can. Keep sending Sector Defense our location every ten minutes or so, so they know where the enemy will be.”

*

Terrid Estate, Falleen

Rrayden Scorn hefted his vibrosword, which he had picked up in lieu of his Lightsaber. Using a red saber made his expensive disguise useless, after all. Mira’s friends had gone all-out on the costumes; they’d secured uniforms from several different organizations, including three bearing crests of different Falleen noble families.

He was leading a team of five mercs, each one supplied by Mira’s friends for this mission. They had a variety of weapons; heavy and light.

“How long?” Spar asked.

“About thirty seconds,” Ray replied. “We’re waiting on Vette’s signal.”

About twenty-three seconds later, their wristcomms gave a soft, electronic chirp. “Now,” Ray said.

They opened up with rocket launchers. These had been armed with extremely pricey disruptor bombs, which were so hard to get your hands on, that people were more likely to treasure than use them. Five bombs went off, leaving a fairly large hole in the outer wall.

Everyone fired again—their second and last bomb—then charged forward. Per the plan, they were to make it look like they were attempting to kidnap the family’s heir—Zhahaksher Terrid—and his wife.

Ray advanced ahead of the line, along with Spar, who had chosen an electrostaff as her primary weapon. He had to hold back, using his shield to take the blows instead of parrying them like he always did. And advance at a slower pace…

Damn, the Force blind sure do have it bad, don’t they?

The best he could do was make it look like he was barely keeping up. He kept half an eye on Spar to get a better idea of what was normal for a Forceblind melee combatant, and what wasn’t.

But he had to give up; even with Force-enhanced reflexes, he couldn’t keep his mind on two things at once in a battle. His shield was already depleting.

His fire team earned their keep though, clearing the way forward for him as he drew the defenders’ attention.

“You’re not used to this at all, are you?” Spar asked sardonically, once the first wave had been dealt with. “You’re almost giving away the game despite the disguise. You might as well have kept your usual weapon.”

“Am I that bad?”

“At pretending, yes. You are a formidable warrior. But that is good. I hate liars and cheats.”

Ray got the feeling she was talking about some people in particular. “Spoken like a true Ma—warrior. Get ready now. More of them approaching!”

*

Garbed in their disguises, Vajra and Lana chose a different method of distraction.

They scaled the walls—using claws and cables instead of Leaping over them, as they normally would’ve—and broke into the security, network, communications, and power distribution rooms and started to unleash havoc on the Terrid household. False alarms, locked doors, misleading information, overheating power conduits, randomly triggered water sprinklers, and malfunctioning droids all crippled the enemy’s ability to respond.

In fact, they had disobeyed orders and sneaked in early, locking all barracks, staff bedrooms, and staff dining areas so that fewer people got involved in the clash.

All this was because of Vajra, of course. He was unwilling to hurt or kill these guards, and Lana was more than willing to cooperate with him.

That didn’t mean they went unchallenged; several units managed to converge on them, but Vajra was able to disarm them in hand-to-hand combat.

Lana was quite impressed, despite being fully aware of his talents. For her part, Lana mostly kept an eye on the many monitors at her fingertips. This kept the enemy distracted, of course, but her more important agenda was to mask the droids’ movements.

She straightened up and fired a pair of stun bolts at a man attempting to take Vajra from behind. “THAT’S MINE!” she hollered. “GET YOUR OWN!”

Moments later, Vajra knocked out the last of the guards, and began locking them in their own restraints. He smiled up at Lana. “Always yours, Captain.”

She flashed her most impish grin and blew him a kiss. “Good boy!”

*

Arakel Xomans set his lowest-yield explosive right next to the control panel. It wasn’t a spectacular bang, which was what he was going for. He wanted to short out this one panel, and gain access to the room beyond.

His team was the quietest of the distraction teams; their goal was to infiltrate the security, network, communications, and power distribution rooms and wreak chaos on the enemies through sabotage.

But something was very wrong… and Xomans found out what it was, the moment he accessed a nearby terminal.

Someone has already taken control of the systems! Someone’s already trapped the majority of their forces! But who… and why?!

He heard the sound of a gunshot behind him, and turned to see Aurik Kepler fall, a large hole in the middle of his head.

Before he could shake off his shock, he was also shot in the head. But unlike his compatriot, his skeleton was thick enough to protect his brain from such an attack. But he did lose his vision. He heard the clanking of metallic footsteps draw closer.

“Displeased Statement: You survived my shot. This will be bad for my record. Request: Die quickly this time.” There was another shot, this time inside his mouth.

*

Jabiim

It was the second afternoon of their exploration. The city was bigger than they’d thought, and not very accessible to people who needed eyes for navigation. They got turned around on numerous occasions until they finally got their bearings. To a degree.

Their breakthrough had arrived when Turan covered his eyes with a thick cloth, and attempted to use only his ears and Force Sense, as the Miraluka would have.

Inspired by his lead, Mira followed suit. It led to some embarrassing stumbles at first, but this was why things eventually got easier. They still needed to take off their blindfolds to scan the surroundings, however.

“I think this is the town hall,” Mira whispered, running her fingers over the signpost. “I wonder if their mausoleum is close by.”

“TROUBLE!” Cetta roared at the top of her lungs. She’d come dashing in from the corridor behind them. Her loud voice echoed through the caves, making Mira cover her ears with a deep wince. “THIS IS HORRIBLE!”

“What’s happened?” Turan asked. He was right to be concerned.

The grizzled Mandalorian was looking extremely rattled. “I just caught some chatter on the comms! There’s an Imperial fleet in orbit!” she gasped.

“WHAT!?” Turan tripped.

“WHO!?” Mirabelle demanded.

“WHY!?” Jhorval blurted.

“I don’t know… but the Republic has sent in reinforcements.”

“Already?”

“It looks like the battle has been raging on for hours,” Cetta sat down on a nearby platform. “I don’t know what could be going on up there!”

Turan was scanning Imperial frequencies. “Hold on… We’re getting an incoming transmission from the lead ship. It’s a holo.”

He pressed a button on his wrist, and a holo appeared in front of them.

“Darth Anathel,” Mira was equal parts surprised, enraged, and horrified.

“Good. I see you know my reputation,” the decorated human said.

“Do not talk down to me, Anathel,” Mira growled. “I’m a Darth too.”

Anathel snorted. “Even among Darths, there is a strict hierarchy. You must be pretty low on the food chain to not know that. My agents heard of a Jedi tomb on this planet.” There was a dull boom from his side. He staggered, and the feed flickered. “The tomb of one ‘Visas Marr.’ I also heard that a mask of a powerful Sith named Nihilus is interred in her tomb. I have come to claim it in Darth Nox’s name. Hand over everything you’ve learned and dug up.”

“You’re joking, right?” Mira scoffed. “You came here to Jabiim in such force, to claim the mask? Do you have any idea how stupid that is? Why didn’t you try to be subtle about this?”

“For glory,” Anathel sneered. “I heard you were close to your prize. But I can’t have a low-level scoundrel like yourself claim Lord Nox’s prestige with such a gift! Such a symbol of Dark Power would be the greatest find of the decade! No, I’m going to take it myself first! Filth such as you should know their place!”

There was another boom, louder and closer this time, and someone shouted, “We’ve been boarded!”

Darth Anathel loosed a stream of Lightning at the attackers with a maniacal “Feel the power of the Dark Side!”

But he was cut short by a Jedi with red hair and a Saberstaff. “How about no?”

“Make it easy on yourself, wench! Tell me where the tomb of Visas Marr is, and I’ll make your end quick.”

“I have no idea where that is! Not like I’m telling you, anyway!”

She closed in and began assaulting him at close range. Anathel was a Sorcerer, and unaccustomed to close-quarters combat. His Lightsaber form was competent, but his blade stumbled against the well-practiced sweeps and hits of his opponent’s. In less than half a minute, her blade smacked away his. She stunned him by smashing his face with her hilt, then spun and stabbed him through his mouth. “Eat Lightsaber, Jerk!”

Darth Anathel fell to the ground, his back to the camera. The Jedi approached the transmission. “Identify yourselves, Sith scum.”

“Not happening.” Turan ended transmission.

But before they could commiserate on what had just happened, another Mandalorian ran in suddenly. “Why is this happening?! The Republic has sent in an army, including Meteor Squad and thirty Jedi under Masters Gnost Dural and Devel Nirol. They’re landing close by. To sweep for Imperials on the planet.”

“How close are they?” Cetta asked.

“Close enough that we can pick up their short-ranged comm chatter.”

“They’re almost on top of us?!” Cetta slammed the Mando’s head into the pillar. “WHICH ONE OF YOU MORONS WAS SLACKING ON THE SURVEILLANCE?!”

“It’s too late,” Turan growled. “Run now, scold later.”

They ran. Like they’d accidentally displeased the Emperor himself, they ran.

But fortune was not on their side today; the moment they reached the entrance, they saw nine shuttles emerge from the low-hanging clouds above them. The Jedi had arrived.

*

Ray slammed his blade into the Guard Captain’s shoulder. The Falleen screamed and fell to the ground, holding his other hand defensively over his face. The Sith brought his sword down on the man again, cutting through the hand and slicing the throat. The unlucky captain died with a spurt of blood.

“The Patriarch’s door is just after this bend.” Red’s voice was rather controlled, given the absurdity.

“Yeah. I never thought we’d get all the way here.”

“Many of the doors were locked,” Templeton replied. “We had it easy. Your buddies at the south entrance must’ve been really good at their jobs.”

“Yes. But what now?” They were supposed to retreat after being overwhelmed by the final defense. They didn’t have any actual plans if they caught their supposed targets!

“I suggest we take them,” Spar said softly. “The Terrids were well-known supporters of the Empire during their daughter’s brief term as Councilor. Lots of people hate them for it. If we say this is punishment, and demand they abdicate all of their holdings, resign from all of their companies, and empty their bank accounts, they won’t suspect a thing.”

Hurting allies of the Empire left a bad taste in Rrayden’s mouth, even ones as dubious as these. But that was as good a suggestion as any. At least she hadn’t suggested killing them.

“Right,” he grinned. “I don’t suppose you’re willing to join me for good?”

“Tempting. I’ll think about it.”

*

Vette had been in smaller ventilation shafts, but these were definitely the warmest. And she happened to be wearing such a many-layered disguise too… she was sweaty as a Kai on Tatooine! Her lekku were slipping off her shoulders, and it felt like someone had emptied a liter of muddy water into her boots.

“How you doin back there, Jumai?” she called.

“I hate it in here,” the Cathar replied angrily. “When we get out of here, I’m forcing that Dowutin trash to sit in the sauna for a whole week! On full heat!”

For once, Vette felt like she was on the same page as the slaver. “I’ve already got the perfect prank ready to get him into that hot box!”

“How much farther?”

“Next turn. Too bad the vents don’t go inside the vault itself. I hope you’re a good slicer.”

“Don’t need to be good. Xomans and Kepler are in the security room. They’ll have that door open for us. And I have the passcodes, just in case.”

Vette opened the duct, and they slipped out of the shaft one after another. Vette noted with pride that she was softer than the Cathar, despite being a bit larger.

“That’s it. That’s the vault.” She pressed the button to open the vault, but nothing happened.

“Figures.” Jumai rudely shoved Vette out of the way and hit the keys to the vault. They stood back. Nothing happened. She tried again, to no better result. With a huff, she pulled out a slip of flimsiplast and peered at the code written on it. She typed the code, muttering each letter and number as she did. Still nothing.

“You got the wrong codes, didncha?” Vette asked.

“Or, someone changed it ahead of schedule. Or a failsafe we didn’t discover.” The slaver growled into her comm. “Xommy! We’re stuck here! The doors not opening. Xommy? Xoms?!”

“What now?”

“We wait,” the Cathar gave her an ugly look. “And run if we hear someone coming.”

“Okay.” Vette was uncomfortable. This bastard had picked a fight with Captain Wolf a few days back, and not even her own friends had been on her side. Ray had been reluctant to let her work with Vette because of her past. She kept a hand on her blaster just in case, and noticed the glances the smuggler kept throwing at her.

After about ten minutes, the vault doors opened, and both women sighed in relief. “Let’s go.”

Vette looked around, laying claim to anything and everything that could fit into her pack. Jewels and gemstones mostly. She even found an old, mint-condition antique blaster she couldn’t help picking up carefully.

Meanwhile, Jumai went straight for the large orb in the corner. “This is it,” she breathed. “The Eye of… ahhh, who cares! I got it!”

Vette looked around in interest. It was indeed, the artifact they’d been shown a holo of. It was exactly what it had looked like; but it was a bit smaller than she’d anticipated. A crystal orb sitting on a tripod.

But just as she was about to lay hands on the artifact, a sticky grenade landed on top of it. The Cathar gaped for a few, crucial seconds before turning to run. The blast tossed her into a large gold statue, but didn’t otherwise harm her. The orb, on the other hand, was in pieces.

Vette flattened herself against the wall, wondering who the fuck had managed to sneak up on her!

A droid entered the room, one of those Bounty Hunting droids. It was covered in a large cloak, and held a compact sniper rifle in its off-hand. It looked at Vette and said out loud, “Scanning Twi’lek.” Its electronic voice was deeper than the Dowutin’s. “Scan complete. Analysis: Subject not in systems. Declaration: You may leave, if you wish. Threat: If you attack me, your life is forfeit.”

Vette gulped and nodded. “I ain’t dying for that slaver.”

The droid looked at the Cathar, who was picking herself up. “Statement: Jumai Tarr. You have outstanding warrants for transportation of slaves and illegal substances, black-market profiteering, confidence scams, murder, and torture.”

“Please!” the Cathar begged. “Please, don’t take me! Don’t take me! I can’t go to prison.”

“Statement: That request can be granted. Your bounty doesn’t distinguish between warm and cold.” The Bounty Hunter droid fired a single shot into her head and ran a few scans to confirm her death. Once it was done, it made for the door. It dropped detonators in its wake. “You’re not leaving,” it admonished Vette, who jumped out of her skin. She ran as fast as she could. She ducked out of the door and hid behind a sturdy pillar with just three seconds to spare before the whole vault exploded. The droid had already vanished. It had done a good job of covering its tracks and throwing off pursuit.

“Damn!” she said, looking around. Unbidden, she reentered the vault. A lot of the treasures had been damaged. “Good thing these guys had a separate place for all their documents, huh? Wait, why do I care about documents? All the shinies are not so shiny anymore.” She sighed. “I miss Jasme.” With that, she turned towards the shaft again.

“What happened?”

Vette jumped, but it was only one of her teammates. “Ummm. Joars, am I right? Ribaulden Joars?”

“WHAT. HAPPENED?!” Joars roared. “WHERE’S THE EYE, WHERE’S JUMAI?”

“It was that droid,” Vette said regretfully. “One of those ISK models. Killed her and blew the vault to cover its tracks.”

“And you just let it?”

Vette looked up in time to see that the Chagrian was almost nose to nose with her. She leapt back just in time to avoid the dagger he swung out at her. “HEY! WHAT GIVES?!”

“Don’t you realize what you did here, you little dipshit?” He demanded, pulling out his blaster. “YOU HAD ONE JOB! YOU THINK THE ORDER REWARDS FAILURES?!”

“The Order…?” She yelped and rolled to avoid the blast. She ran for her life, ducking and rolling to avoid getting shot. Her armor was minimal in this mission—one bad shot and she was— “YEEOWCH!” a bolt singed her shoulder, just as she was fumbling to draw her blaster. She dropped her weapon, but managed to duck behind another pillar… only to find out she was trapped. She drew the dagger from her boot and waited for the jerk to show his face, so she could show him what a cornered Vette fought like.

But before she could break cover, she heard the sound of metal cutting cloth, flesh, and bone.

Joars screamed and fell. “YOU!” he screamed, but his voice was cut short by another snick of metal.

“Vette?” a familiar voice called.

The Twi’lek looked out of her ambush spot to see a human standing over Joars’ body. “Knave?”

“I heard the blast, I was worried,” he said tensely. “Come on, we gotta go!”

Vette ran as fast as her legs could carry her. The pirate picked up her blaster for her and tossed it in her direction. “Thank you!” She said fervently. “Boy, am I glad to see you!”

“Me too,” Knave said. “You’re a good person. I’m glad you didn’t die.”

Vette smiled and gave him a tight hug. She frowned; there was something weird about his back. A deformity? “You’re a good man too. A really good man. And now, I owe you a candy bar!” She let him go. “Which way out?”

“That way,” he said, pointing. “Come on. My Captain’s waiting.”

“There’s almost no one here,” Vette remarked.

Knave nodded. “Mister Xomans did his job well. But he’s not answering his comms.”

“Dammit! I liked him.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. It wasn’t your fault. How long is this corridor?”

“Just a bit longer,” came a feminine voice, around a bend a bit further down. Vette rounded the corner to find the woman herself. She had a few burns on her robes, but was otherwise alright.

“Captain Wolf!” Vette cried, throwing her arms around the woman. “Thank you for letting me borrow your man. Wait, that came out wrong. Knave saved me.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” Wolf grinned, patting her back comfortingly. “He’s good at that. Are you alright? That explosion was a doozy.”

“Yeah, tell me about it! But the droid wasn’t after me. It let me go.”

“Droid?”

“Bounty Hunter Droid. It was after Jumai.”

“Damn.”

“Captain—”

“Right you are, Knave. I’m sorry, Blue. But I don’t think we’ll stay safe for long. Stay low, ditch the disguise when we tell you to. Don’t worry, we’ll get you back to your fiancé.”

“Got it! And thanks again!”

*

Jabiim

Mirabelle and Turan barely escaped the fiasco. The Mandos chose to stand and fight instead of running, so shamed were they by their inability to carry out the Master’s command.

Mira didn’t like leaving allies behind, and Cetta wasn’t a bad person, but she wasn’t going to die for someone else’s idea of honor. She had things to do, dammit!

With Turan’s help, she managed to slip into some bushes.

The Mandalorians didn’t last very long; Master Gnost Dural led the charge against them personally; by some clever trickery, he appeared right on top of them, having leapt off a shuttle flying overhead. He landed right behind them and began throwing them around with the Force.

A tall soldier led the infantry, firing at the distracted Mandalorians. He couldn’t hurt them, but he did divest them of all their weapons. That was amazing aim! He reached the Jedi Master in less than a minute, and took off his helmet. It was a Zabrak.

“That’s the man who led the assault on Korriban,” Mira exclaimed. “Major… Roban Queens, I think.”

“No wonder they chose him. He’s good! Fearless, too!”

“What do we do?”

“We out some distance between ourselves and the Pubs, and call Odarith. I doubt we’ll be able to leave the planet, but maybe we can stay low at the estate for a few days. After that… well, we’ll see what happens later, afterwards. The Master is not going to be pleased.”

“It can’t be helped, Surely, he can see that, right? If only that idiot Anathel hadn’t attacked… everything went sideways because of him. And he told them about the Mask, too!”

“Yeah. That’s why the Jedi are here, I should think.”

“Right. The tomb will be secured. Maybe moved.”

“Let’s go. It’s been such a bad day—”

“Hey… look…” Mira turned him around. They’d reached another cave. This one didn’t look as cozy as the last one, but it was better hidden. Only reason they’d noticed was because they’d almost stumbled in. It would hopefully hide them from any pursuit.

“Not a bad place to spend a day or two,” Turan said. “It’s going to be cramped.”

“What are you talking about? We used to do this kind of stuff all the time on Ziost and Korriban.”

“True. We’ll be just fine.”

*

The Cave of Hammon

Major Roban Queens waited for the Jedi Master’s orders. It wasn’t an impatient wait; he’d worked with Master Gnost a few times before, and felt comfortable around him.

“So… the Sith were kind enough to treat this place with respect. I’m glad. Their leader must’ve been an archaeologist.”

“What is this place, Sir?” Roban asked.

“You heard the story of the destruction of Katarr, three hundred years ago? The Miraluka homeworld? This was where the broken survivors gathered. To attempt to rebuild a new life for themselves, in secret. And isolation. And they did, eventually finding the strength to stand up again. They emerged from this cave nearly thirty years after their self-imposed exile, with heads held high. This was the city they built for themselves. It is a beautiful thing, and a symbol of resilience. I think Captain Dorn would enjoy seeing this. Be warned, however; the Republic has kept this place secret to preserve the cultural heritage.”

“Got it, Sir. I think we’ll treat our prisoners well, considering their behavior.”

“I’m afraid that won’t be possible, Sir.” Both men turned to find a Private approaching them, his face lit with worry. “The prisoners all had a false molar. With poison. They took their own lives.”

“What?”

“That’s not normal Mandalorian behavior!” Roban exclaimed.

“Or Sith,” Master Gnost added. “Confound it all! Now we can’t question them!”

“The biggest question I had was why they came here.”

“Oh, we guessed that part already,” Gnost told Roban. “They were looking for a Jedi tomb. But they seemed to have been working off bad intel; they were exploring the wrong place. Don’t worry. I’ve sent Devel to secure the real site.”

*

Jedi Master Devel Nirol felt a deep sense of humility as he entered the Tomb of Visas Marr. It was a simple place, just an underground bunker. About two meters wide, and three deep. The only source of light was his Lightsaber.

The one he hadn’t ignited in years. He chuckled.

Once his eyes accustomed to the gloom, he made for Master Visas’ body. It was a skeleton sitting on top of a chair, still wearing her robes. Her face was veiled too. Her hands were propped up on the armrest, and still gripped the Mask of Darth Nihilus.

Devel approached the skeleton and knelt down before it. He pressed his head into the ground.

“Greetings, Master Visas. I am Devel Nirol, Master of the Jedi Council. Three hundred years after your death, you still serve the Light. You still watch over the galaxy. I salute you. You are a far greater Jedi than I could ever hope to be.”

He paused for a moment, in case the spirit had something to say. He knew she was there, he could Sense her presence. He could feel her focus on himself. He wondered if he met her approval; he was a very different Jedi from her.

“I have a request for you. I know that Jedi greater than myself have tried, and failed, to Cleanse that mask in your arms. But I have the benefit of three hundred years of discoveries, and rediscoveries that have surfaced since then. In particular, I have found teachings of a great Jedi Master, whose name has been regrettably forgotten. He was a great Healer who stopped a deadly plague of madness concocted by the vile Terrak Morrhage. I have expanded on his teachings, and I think I have figured out a way to cleanse artifacts such as these. If you are willing to permit me, I would like to conduct the cleansing ritual. If I succeed, the Mask will become nothing more than an inanimate object. Your long burden will end.”

This process would take three whole days and nights, but he wasn’t worried about being caught by surprise. His Apprentice, Nadia Grell, was on watch outside, accompanied by the mighty Kira Carsen, currently among the best warriors of the Order. A stalwart protector, just like her former Master.

He was in good hands.

He Sensed Master Visas’ approval, and bowed low again. “Thank you, Master.”

Devel knelt down to commune with the Force.

*

Chapter Text

Jabiim

Odarith came much more quickly than they’d hoped. They only spent a few hours in their hiding spot before Turan’s butler arrived to pick them up.

“Good evening, Sir, Madam,” the human bowed. “I hope I didn’t interrupt you two getting comfortable in there.”

“Odarith!” Turan exclaimed, catching the man in an embrace. “Thank you for coming so soon!”

“It was no trouble, my Lord. It seems the Jedi aren’t looking for you at all.”

“Really?” Mirabelle was pleased. “That’s fantastic! Good to know their perceptions are so flawed.”

“I don’t know about that, Lady Mira. They’re focusing their efforts on securing the site and shoring up defenses in the cities, and in orbit. It’s more like you’ve been deprioritized.”

“That’s strange,” Mira said perplexedly. “If I were Gnost-Dural, I’d want to capture the people trying to explore those caves. Figure out who put them up to it.”

“He doesn’t have a choice, I think. The Republic managed to destroy our naval forces in orbit, but they took quite a beating in exchange. They cannot call in more reinforcements at present. That said, they have left behind a few thousand soldiers to protect Jabiim. The Governor announced that the Republic is permanently increasing the size of their defense forces soon.”

“Dammit.”

“In addition, they’re also tightening security. I think it’ll be a while before we can infiltrate this planet again.”

Mira sighed and looked at Turan, whose face was smooth. “Let’s just get out of here for now,” Turan suggested. “They might not be expending resources looking for us, but I don’t want to know what they’ll do, if they pick us up on scanners.”

They hurried to the speeder. Turan decided to stretch out on the backseat, so Mira took the front passenger’s. Once the speeder was in motion, she checked her messages.

The first to catch her eye was Ray’s.

“Hey, Mira.

There was a hiccup.

A bounty droid came for Jumai Tarr. Destroyed the Eye of Skald while covering its escape. It would’ve gotten Vette too, if it was programmed for collateral damage. Your other friends are dead too. Xomans and Kepler were killed by security, and Joars tried to punish Vette for the fiasco. Don’t worry though; he was killed by one of my hires before he could hurt her.

But the eye was destroyed, along with everything in the vault.

I’m sorry. I let you down. I promise, this won’t happen again.

Love,

Ray.

Before Mira could digest what she’d just read, she got another message, this one from the Master.

Mira.

Two critical missions, two critical failures. My faith in you was misplaced, it seems. Come back to the base in five days, or you will face even greater punishment than what you currently do.

“Mira?” Turan asked, noticing her tense shoulders.

The Darth shook her head. She couldn’t bring herself to speak right now. She didn’t mind taking responsibility when the failure was hers, but this… this catastrophe had been outside her ability to control or foresee.

“Maybe you’d like to stretch out with me,” Turan said, patting the seat. “It’s a tight fit, but…”

Not now, she wanted to say, but found herself shrugging. “Why not? I need to be held, tonight. Scoot over some more, please.”

*

Falleen

“Come in, come in, come in!” Ray said genially, leading his guests into the hotel. It was quite an exclusive one, and expensive at that, but he thought his associates had more than earned the extra reward. “Welcome to Fallen’s Primarch Hotel!”

“Cool,” Vette said, looking around eagerly. She’d gotten used to displays of opulence, having rubbed shoulders with Tiarna Kaimeryn for so many years. Just as well for Ray, since this meant she was giving him the lion’s share of her attention.

“It’s beautiful!” Knave gushed, eagerly looking around at the many sculptures lining the gardens. Wolf’s eyes were wide and hungry. The other kind of hungry. “Look at this, Wolf!” Knave gently tugged her hand—which was firmly in his—and led her to a beautiful statue of a Falleen canid. The scaled wolf, some called it. Ray chuckled, wondering what the Captain thought of her ‘cousins.’

A hostess walked up to them with a wide, respectful smile. “Greetings, gentlebeings. May I have your reservation code?”

“Here it is,” Ray offered it to her.

She scanned it and nodded. “Welcome to our establishment, Mister Ray. Please. Come this way. I have one of our golden booths waiting for you.”

Ray and his party followed her to a balcony overlooking a large, crystalline pond. Beyond the far bank were marshlands, and forests behind the treeline. The pond, like the hotel, was well-decorated, with fountains, holograms, and dwarf kiptolphins leaping in and out of the water.

At the center was a large holo cinema projector, which would broadcast today’s main entertainment; a romantic comedy called ‘Yosephine and I.’

Their waitress entered a minute later, in which time both couples had found—as Vette would call it—the mostest coziest cuddly spot to sit in. “May I have your order, Mister Ray?”

“GeroChick Gumbo,” he replied at once. “With herbed bread. Some mocktails of your choice.”

“Can you combine our portions?” Wolf requested, indicating herself and Knave. “And double the cutlets?”

“Of course, gentle lady.”

“You know your way around a restaurant,” Ray noted. Wolf just smiled, but didn’t answer his question.

“We really appreciate this treat,” she said, sounding earnest. “You didn’t have to do it.”

“But we did,” Vette insisted. “You saved my lekks. And you didn’t have too.”

Ray kissed her headtails. “Pretty lekks.”

“Watching our employers’ backs is part of the contract,” Knave said.

“Job or not, duty or not, we are deeply grateful,” Ray said. “And I believe in showing my gratitude.”

“I’m not complaining. You’re not what we expected.” Wolf clucked her tongue. “Well. Vette is. You’re not.”

“Sad, but understandable. A lot of my Order tend to be on the brutal side.”

“But you’re not,” Knave said. “You’re kind.”

“Only to those who haven’t earned my grudge.”

“You’re not what we expected either,” Vette said. “First time I saw you, I thought you were violent thugs.”

“I might have been, in another life,” Wolf admitted. “Knave makes me want to be better.” Her lover kissed her hand. “Strangely, I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Vette looked conflicted. “People don’t always change for love, you know. One of my buddies… she fell in love with one of the greatest girls she could’ve seen. Even better than herself, though seems impossible. Thought she’d go monogamous for her. But she couldn’t. She lasted just a few months before getting in bed with an ex-boyfriend. Broke Jasme’s heart when she was already feeling low.”

Wolf looked away, but Knave spoke up instead. “If Wolf changes, I’ll still love her. She’s still my Captain. My Wolf. I accept what she is.” His hand continued to stroke her hair. Wolf looked touched.

Vette looked at Ray uncertainly. He laughed. “Whatever happens, I wish the best for you both.”

“Thank you.”

“What are your plans for now?”

“I don’t know. A ship, first. Then… wherever the stars take us.”

“What about our offer?”

“It’s sweet. We’ll be sure dropping by, once I’ve experienced more of this galaxy.”

“What about you?” Knave asked. “Have you decided?”

Ray was a little surprised by the question, but Vette didn’t seem to be.

“Yes. We’re getting married in six months. Ray talked to some people. They’ve got the ball rolling.”

“‘the ball rolling…” Knave contemplated.

“‘Got the ball rolling,’” Wolf corrected. “Or ‘get it rolling.’”

“Does it mean to get started?”

“Exactly.”

Vette continued as if nothing had happened. “Invites are being printed, and the venue has been arranged—” Her holo’s chime interrupted her. It was her aforementioned buddy. “Hey there.”

“VETTE!” Lady Kai screamed. “What’s this I’m hearing? Someone finally agreed to a date?”

“Yep.”

“And didn’t think to tell me, herself?”

“Umm. Yeah. Sorry.”

“You owe me a chocolate, little smoll!”

“Smoll chocolate. Got it.”

Lady Kai laughed. “Now tell me. What’s happened in—wait, you’re with company!?” her eyes had found the pirates sitting close by. Wolf was looking intimidated, but Knave simply looked… curious.

“Ah, allow me to introduce them,” Ray stood up.

“No, me,” Vette said firmly. “Lady Kai—I mean, Tiarna Kairegane Rooks, meet Captain Rosetta Wolf and Galahad Knave. Lady Kai is a big time Sith. Ebon Prince. Scarlet Queen. Darth Kaimeryn.”

“I know who she is,” Wolf said tensely.

“I do too,” Knave added. “You look strong.”

“Knave’s straight-forward,” Vette explained. “But he’s a nice guy. He’s the one who inspired me to set the date already. Oh. And he saved my life.”

Lady Kai went a little serious. “Saved your life? Vette, were you doing something dangerous? Why wasn’t Ray there to watch your back?”

“I’m sorry, Lady Kai,” Ray bowed. “It was a job. We’ll give you the details later. But—well, we each had a separate job. I was the attraction. Vette was the staff. One of our colleagues got mad when someone pooped on his parade, and he blamed Vette for it. Knave was close enough to save her, and did. He was part of the attraction, but he was between acts.”

“I see. At this rate, I’m going to insist the two of you live under my roof for the rest of your lives.”

“Come on, Kai. This was the first time it’s happened in years! And you do reckless shit all the time.”

“In any case, you have my thanks, Mister Knave.” Kai bowed to the human. “Vette’s the most precious friend I have.”

“You’re welcome,” Knave said, looking a little uncomfortable. “You don’t have to give us a reward. Lord Ray is doing that, already. It’s more than I need. I look after my comrades.”

“As you wish,” Lady Kai grinned approvingly. “So, you look after your comrades, eh? Even if you’re together for a single job? I like you.”

“He’s mine,” Wolf said defensively.

“Sure thing, doll.”

“She’s mine,” Knave said protectively.

Lady Kai laughed. “A matched set! How cute. Don’t let me bother you any longer. Enjoy your double date. Maybe we can meet in person, some day. Vette, you’re going to tell me exactly how this charming lad got you to do something Ray and I couldn’t. Also, how he saved you.”

The call ended, and everyone was silent for a bit. “What’s your favorite color?” Vette said at last, trying to break the silence.

“Umm. Wolf,” Knave said. “Wolf gray.”

Wolf laughed her ass off. “You’re not very subtle, sweetie.”

“Sorry. I said the first thing that popped in there.”

“Right. Mine’s orange.”

“Cool!”

“What’s your venue like?” Wolf asked. “What planet is it on?”

“I’m hoping I can get this venue on Dromund Kaas,” Ray answered. “It’s a resort owned by the Benikos. But booking it out for several days might be a problem.”

“What’s wrong with Corvus?” Knave asked. “You said you were trying to make it more popular, right? And didn’t you say you wanted to build resorts there? Why not make some kind of… wedding hall, or something? Use the Tiarna’s influence to spread the word?”

Ray stood up all of a sudden. “Why didn’t I think of that?”

Vette gave him a sideways look. “Um. Wait, you didn’t? I assumed you’d already considered it! That you were picking Kaas for some sentimental reasons!”

“What kind of sentimental reasons?” Ray said frustratedly. “You saw how my family reacted, didn’t you?”

“How did they respond?” Knave asked. Wolf nudged him and tried to shake her head, but Ray didn’t mind answering.

“They disowned me. Made other threats against me.”

“Which was a stupid thing to do,” Vette chuckled. “He reminded them that he’s Sith. And a Darth, no less. He just waved. Furniture rearranged itself. Then he said, ‘You know I’m on first-name terms with Vowrawn and Kairegane, don’t you?’” She’d mimicked his deep voice and amused tone. “The looks on their faces were priceless! They tried to backtrack, but he just stood up. ‘I’m disappointed in you all. I think I’m the one who needs to cut you out of my life.’”

Knave clapped a little. “That’s a good impression.”

“It is?” Ray asked disbelievingly. “Is that what I sound like?”

“A little,” Wolf smiled. “Her voice isn’t accurate, but her accent, tone, and mannerisms are.”

“Can you do me?” Knave asked.

Vette perked up. “What’s this? Someone asking to be mimicked? Man, I gotta mark this day!”

She spent the next ten minutes showing off her mimicry skills, after which the food arrived. They all sampled their food, as the movie was due to start in another five minutes. Once it did, the pair of couples settled down to watch.

Vette sat on Ray’s lap, her lekku pressed gently between them.

As for their double dates, Captain Wolf surprised him by feeding her man first. Ray could’ve sworn he heard her say, “You always eat so little, the days after killing someone.”

He turned slightly, to see a heartachingly tortured expression on Knave’s face, one he’d been hiding from Vette and himself. It was then that he realized just how kind a man Knave really was.

*

Several Days later

Mira, Odarith, and the other servants worked quickly to pack everything. They’d brought a lot of luggage to play the part of a noble on vacation.

Meanwhile, Turan was patiently speaking to the owner. Or at least, Mira thought it was patient. In reality, he was still playing the role; he pretended to be agitated and belligerent, but he was actually calm as the cats rubbing against his legs.

“Yes, I’m aware that it’s a problem for you,” he was telling the owner. “But I hope you realize the fear that idiot Sith has caused me? And my staff? What if they’d invaded!? This place isn’t as secure as you’d claimed it was.”

“I… I offer my most heartfelt apologies, Lord Turan,” the owner bowed. “But please, you have to see my position as well. You’re booked all the way till the end of the month. With a provision that you might extend, later! As a result, we don’t have any bookings for this estate until late this year!”

“We will pay our dues,” Turan insisted. “But no more. Till the end of this month only. That was part of our contract.”

“Yes, my Lord.” The owner sounded resigned. Turan sighed.

“Tell you what. I’ll pay for the upkeep for the next few months. My head butler knows how much that costs, by now. I’ll send you that amount every week. At the very least, you won’t suffer having to pay your employees.”

“Thank you, my Lord. That certainly helps.”

“On the condition that you voluntarily communicate when your business kicks up, again. If you don’t, I’ll sue. Yes, I’ll be sending over a contract for you.”

Mirabelle turned to one of the maids, Éclair. “Can you spare me for about an hour?”

“Oh, yes, my Lady!” the beautiful Arkanian bowed. “Truth be told, we’re honored you helped us to this extent!”

“Good. Let Turan know that my ‘friend’ from earlier is nearby. I want to visit her, one last time.”

“Yes, my Lady!”

Mira chewed on her thumbnail, unsure why she wanted to meet the intelligent Archivist again. What she wanted to say to her. What she expected would happen.

She tracked down her quarry in a nearby library. She was all alone, scrolling through a list of some kind. Mira sat down in front of her, and the suddenness made the tall woman squeak.

“UWAAA! Mira?!”

“This pattern again?” Mira asked her, feeling some strange amusement. “Don’t be so surprised all the time. Either learn some self-control, or learn to watch your surroundings.”

“I am too busy for something like that,” Jasme scolded her. She pointed at the list she’d been going through. “You know where I work, right? We finally know what was stolen from us during the raid! And the SIS got me a list of what was stolen from the Korriban archives as well, so I was trying to make sense of it. That takes effort! Something I thought you could appreciate, being a researcher!”

“How does the SIS know what was stolen from Korriban?”

Jasme snorted. “How am I supposed to know the answer to that one? You think they tell me who their assets are? This intel wasn’t even given to me. Master Gnost passed it along, requesting my opinion.”

“Did you tell him I was on this planet?”

“No, I didn’t. Though I really wanted to.” She turned a furious glare on Mira, who winced. “I thought you weren’t here to invade Jabiim!?”

“I wasn’t!” Mira said placatingly. “I was here to find the tomb of Visas Marr. I don’t know how that bastard Anathel found out about it, but he wanted to claim it for Darth Nox! To curry his favor! That damned bootlicker…”

“Well, it doesn’t matter anymore. Master Devel just called me. He told me he cleansed the mask Master Visas’ spirit was guarding. It’s just an ordinary fashion article now.”

“What?!”

Jasme snorted. “The look on your face… you were angry with Anathel for what he did, but how are you any different? Whom were you trying to claim that mask for? It was dangerous! Dangerous enough for a Jedi Master to dedicate centuries of her… her afterlife to protecting the galaxy from it! You’re a smart woman, Mira. I’ve never known you to go after dangerous artifacts. Which means you were doing it for someone else.” She held up her list. “I found out that some cult called the Order of Revan instigated these raids. They wanted to steal Rakatan artifacts from the Jedi and Sith, under cover of the attacks.”

“What did you say?”

“So, I was right! You’re with these… ‘Order’ people!”

Mira made direct eye contact with the girl, a sly grin etching over her face.

"And what's your deduction?"

"Well... one possibility could be that you're a Revanite!" Jasme exclaimed. When she got no reaction from the Sith, she settled into her chair.

Mira smirked. "I wonder what my friend Ray would have thought of you shouting accusations."

“I wasn’t shouting. We’re in a library, and I’m a librarian who’s proud of her calling. I didn’t shout even when Nox was making me relive that day.”

“The day you found out Vajra died?”

Jasme turned to her, seemingly debating whether to answer. “No. The day I saw the slaughter of the Kaygir. The day I saw Warpath. And by the way, after surviving that monstrosity, your best friend doesn’t scare me.”

“That’s a stupid viewpoint. Just because a mamba isn’t a rancor, doesn’t mean it’s any less fatal.”

“You didn’t see Warpath. You didn’t see Vajra beat him.”

“Vajra’s not here.”

“He wasn’t there on Tython, either. Until he was. You won’t believe how many Imperial soldiers had stains on their trousers.”

Mira recalled Arkous’ debriefing. That snake, Beniko’s comments. “Your Vajra isn’t someone to mess with.”

“Tell me about it.”

“So, what’s this you were saying about these… ‘Revanites’?”

Jasme shrugged. “The attacks on Tython and Korriban could only take place because each world was stripped of their defenses. You know the logical conclusion. The people in charge were in cahoots.”

“Or, it could mean they were manipulated by someone who benefited.”

“That might have held some water, if both sides didn’t steal the exact same class of items from the vaults, reliquaries, and storage rooms. Rakata tech. Records on very specific topics. Arkous and Darrok were after the same thing. Or pieces of the same puzzle. But don’t take my word for it. If you ever find a Revanite, tease the info out of them.”

So, this woman is that certain about my allegiance, is she?

Mira felt a twinge of annoyance, but maintained her pleasant demeanor. “You know, I had to ask something before I left.”

“Oh?”

“Do you know one Lana Beniko? Or Theron Shan? They’re the ones who killed Darrok and Arkous. You seem like you might get on with them, nicely.”

“Darrok is dead? Huh… I’d heard about Arkous, but there are a lot of Colonels out there.”

Mira didn’t believe her. “I’ve encountered the Revanites before. Few people know about them. Fewer still know who their members are. You have a source of information, and it stands to reason that Arkous’ murderer was one who gave it to you. And colored your opinion on not just him, but the Revanites too. Lana and Theron might be the true masterminds behind everything. You might be their unwitting pawn. I hope that’s all you are.”

“Is that right?” Jasme sighed heavily. “I wish I was. I could use someone to talk to. I do so love my work, but it’s been so all-consuming, lately. Vajra has been away from Tython for months now, aside from that one brief return. Most of my other friends live on other worlds, but I haven’t been able to secure time off to go visit them. I wish I had some friends to help me unwind.”

Mira was suspicious, but couldn’t gage the extent she was being lied to. “Come with me. I can drop you off at Lady Kai’s.”

“Maybe in a few years. Right now, my family needs me. Mom was so depressed when I disappeared, and so thrilled when I returned. I only just met my dad. My brother finally agreed to reconnect with me. And then there’s Vajra…” she chuckled. “One big, happy family. Things are tiresome on this side… but good.”

“Go back to them. Don’t dally with the likes of Theron and Lana. You’ll live longer.”

“I was totally minding my own business when Revan kidnapped me that first time. Out of nowhere. And also when Sith invaded the Temple. But I’ll see what I can do.”

She was kidnapped? By REVAN!?! “Goodbye, Jasme. I hope circumstances are better, the next time I see you.”

“Bye.”

*

Falleen
Aboard the Azure Phoenix,

Vajra was relieved to hear back from Jasme. When he’d received a message saying she’d unexpectedly met the suspected Revanite again, he’d been afraid. He’d wondered if perhaps, she might be angrier this time. Maybe blame Jasme for her failure.

He was glad to know she wasn’t that hotheaded.

“I do wish she hadn’t left me with contradictory advice,” Jasme sighed. “Stay with your family, but stay away from Theron.”

“It would’ve been rather more alarming if she hadn’t said that,” Lana reminded her. “Your connection to Theron remains a secret from all but the most important Revanites. For now.”

“I do appreciate that.”

“I’m glad Darth Travvor still retains the core of the original Revanite outlook,” Lana said, as she accepted a plate full of leftover gumbo from Vajra. “The curiosity, the reason. It was what almost drew me into their ranks.”

“What stopped you?”

“The Star Cabal,” Lana sighed. “The goals they started off with, were very different from those they pursued at the very end. Secret societies tend to change their path, depending on who’s leading them. It wasn’t even Revan that was the problem. Many of their members were more fanatical and power hungry than others. It was only Darkspanner’s leadership that kept them on their course. But I always wondered what would happen if Lord Ladra took control.”

“Ladra’s probably dead,” Jasme said. “She wasn’t among the people who fought Gnost-Dural—”

“Nor were Travvor or Rasmus,” Theron reminded her. “Luckily, we don’t have to speculate. I stole all of their data while they were distracted. Heavily encrypted of course, but I’m confident I can crack it in less than a day, now that we have some time. It will tell us more about their operations… and hopefully, clear some of the people we need to alert.”

“And T7 is working on the files he stole,” Vajra smiled, patting the Astromech.

<The Mighty Jakarro hopes there’s some answers in here,> Jakarro grumbled. <Stopping the Order from getting the Eye or the Mask was satisfying, but it feels like we’re chasing scouting parties while an army has mustered at our gate.>

“Good analogy,” Theron smiled. “We can only hope. We had no choice, but to start small. Hopefully, things get better once we’ve questioned a few Revanites.”

“What was your impression of Scorn?” Jasme asked.

“He’s not a Revanite,” Lana said with certainty. “Nor is Vette.”

Vajra spoke up tentatively. “We spoke to Tiarna Rooks,” he told Jasme.

“Really?” Jasme’s eyes twinkled like twin galaxies. “How’d that happen?! What did you say?”

Lana snorted. “He told her, ‘You look strong.’”

Jasme stared. “Pfffffft….. BWAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHA!”

“In my defense, I was trying to stay in character,” Vajra laughed, happy by how amused his friend was.

“He saved Vette’s life,” Lana explained. “Stopped Joars from blasting her for her ‘failure.’ Luckily for her, Vajra was heading there on the off-chance she’d been hurt. HK was a little overzealous on his first mission in years…”

“HK?” Theron asked.

“Oh, that’s right. I haven’t introduced you. HK, would you be so kind?”

“Of course, Master.” An armored droid carrying a sniper rifle entered the camera’s field of vision. “Introduction: I am HK-51, fully armed and equipped assassin droid. Master Beniko found me on Belsavis’ Section X. Statement: My Master had intended to use me to hunt down members of the Star Cabal, but she was far more efficient at dismantling them, than she was at assembling me. As a result, she set me to guard her most exposed cache while she started a new life. Statement: It gave me great pleasure to carry out my first assignment. And despite her fears, I took great pains to ensure that subject: Vette was unharmed. That subject: Joars happened upon her afterwards was outside of my calculations.”

“There you have it,” Vajra said. “Lord Scorn insisted on treating us to the best food on Falleen for saving Vette, and the Tiarna happened to call to congratulate Vette… oh, that’s right! Vette has decided her wedding date. It’s in six months.”

Jasme gapsed, jumping onto her feet and doing an energetic dance. “NO. FUCKING. WAAAAAAAY!”

“Scorn introduced us as Vette’s saviors,” Lana told her, once she settled down. “She was pleased. Vajra was… impressed.”

“I’d been hoping to meet her for years now. She didn’t disappoint. I think she beats everyone I’ve ever met by sheer force of personality alone.”

“I know what you mean,” Jasme giggled. “Hey, I have a favor to ask. Could you all destroy the Revanites within the year? I’d like to attend Vette’s wedding. Assuming she invites me, of course.”

“I’ll do what I can,” Lana grinned. Theron agreed too, with a little less enthusiasm.

<The Restless Jakarro demands a fight!> the Wookiee roared. <He was confined to the shadows on this assignment! He did nothing! He didn’t even get to smash in a pickpocket’s fist!>

“Well, there should be more work for us on Dantooine,” Theron said placatingly. “Apparently, there’s something in the Jedi Enclave that the Revanites want.”

“And we’re headed to Bimmisaari,” Lana finished. “We have no idea what we’re up against there, but we have some names. If either of us got something from the Revanites that could narrow it down, that’s all the better.”

“Right. I think we can get back in touch, as soon as we’ve found lodgings on our respective worlds. And had a good night’s sleep.”

“Right. Bye, guys.”

“Farewell.”

*

Rishi

Mira was apprehensive as she approached the figure looming out of the shadows. Lord Kari Darkspanner stood to one side, doing her best to avoid her gaze. Almost everyone in the base—many of whom had been her friends for years—either ignored her, or looked at her contemptuously.

The Master’s displeasure was palpable. “Ah. If it isn’t Darth Travvor, come all this way with her tail between her legs.”

“Greetings, Master. I—”

“You bring word of failure,” the Master interrupted. “Abject, catastrophic, and absolute. I am disappointed.”

“Forgive me—”

“Why? Why do you deserve forgiveness?”

“Because the failure was not mine. We were hounded off Jabiim because Anathel jumped the gun—”

“How did he find out, and why would that affect you?”

“—and the mission on Falleen failed, because the thief Jumai—whom you assigned, if I may add—was a criminal whose past caught up with her at just the most inopportune moment. As for your other question, I have no idea how he found out. Why it affected us, well, Anathel sent me a message mid-battle, demanding the Mask for himself. The Republic heard it. They knew.”

“Does it comfort you, to have such ready excuses?”

“I take responsibilities when I mess up. But I didn’t, this time. Everything was beyond my control… rather like yours, when Tiarna Kaimeryn stopped your little project—”

“Insolent, foolish child,” the Master shook his head. “You compare candles to stars. I thought you were a scholar? That you could tell the difference between the two? No? Oh, well! You really are a disappointment.”

“There are differences, but similarities too. Particularly in the failures. I thought you were supposed to be wise—”

“Do not think to lecture me, Travvor. I have spent many lifetimes in pursuit of my goals. The one thing I’ve learned, above all else, is that trust is dangerous. I put my trust in you, and you failed me. I should’ve sent Jerre on these missions. Unlike you, he is tried and proven.”

“It seems you refuse to listen. Fine. Give me your petty punishment. Let us not waste each other’s time, any further.”

The Master scoffed and turned away. “Punishments are for those who can learn. You are reassigned. I want you on Logair’s assignment, given his untimely demise. Head to the library, and find out where I may find where he is hiding. Or how he plans to come back.”

“Fine.” Mira walked out without another word, but internally, she was composing her speech for when the Master failed. “I’m famished,” she grumbled to herself. She decided there was no harm in stopping by the cantina before heading on over to the library. It was nearly empty, at this time of day.

She sat down at the bar. “Chef’s special. And a vodka with green apple and ice.”

“Coming right up.”

As she waited for her order in a secluded booth, someone’s voice startled her out of her reverie. “Mirabelle, innit?”

Mira turned. “Ah, Captain Kraot. How are you? How’s the wife and kid?”

“Been busy,” the pink-haired man said. “They’re fine. Mind if ah sit down?”

“Sure, go on ahead.” Mira had always liked the pilot. He was respectful to everyone, regardless of rank or circumstances, unless they’d wronged him. And right now, he was the only one of the inner circle who had addressed her without a hint of reproach.

The man sat down with the tray in his hands. It was a large sandwich, with an iced cola. “How’re you feelin’?”

“Like a pariah,” she answered honestly. “I don’t know what I was expected to do in that situation. Or how anyone could’ve predicted that bounty hunter catching up with Jumai at such a precise moment.”

“Abou’ tha’. It looks like the droid jus’ ‘appened to be in town. Very unlucky, indeed.”

“Tell the Master that.”

“Ah will. But for th’ life of me, ah can’t figure out how Anathel got involved with the mission on Jabiim. Someone clued ‘im in. Bu’ who? Why? Wuzit with the express intent t’ sabotage your mission?”

Mira felt a chill run down her spine. “Who could’ve done such a thing? Without us noticing?”

“Precious few, Ma’am. Precious few. Unfort’nately, ah can’t figure idout. Top suspects are Beniko and Ther’n Shan, bu’ who knows who else we might be contendin’ with, ou’ there? F’r awl we know, the enemy ‘imself might’ve been the one.”

“Right. Fuck.”

“Language, please.”

Mira chuckled “Sorry.”

Her order arrived, and she surprised everyone by eating like a ravenous animal.

“Ah’ve seen hunger like tha’ before,” Captain Kraot said wryly. “Ah’ll leave you to it. Come see me after—”

“Wait!”

“Yeah?”

“I heard something very interesting on Jabiim.”

“Oh? This ah got to hear…”

“Is it true that the Order was involved in the raids on Tython and Korriban?”

Captain Kraot flinched and averted his eyes. “Who told you tha’?” he demanded; for the first time, he sounded something approaching hostile.

“My questions first, Captain.”

Kraot glared at her. The man couldn’t lie. It was his blessing and his curse. Mira already had her answer.

“Why? What was it we needed to steal from the Sith and Jedi so badly, that we invaded our own Temples? That we killed so many of our own people? Including innocents?!”

That made Jerre flinch. Hostility drained out of him, leaving him looking extremely guilty. “Ah cannot answer tha’ one,” he said wearily. “It was for the greater good.”

“It always is, isn’t it? Tiarna Kaimeryn told me that the Master tried to commit genocide, last time. To kill anyone in the galaxy with Sith blood. A 99% purge. I laughed it off then, but now I wonder. But was that true too? Another inconvenient truth?”

“Tha’ was—”

“Yes?”

Jerre did not answer. He tried to leave, but Mira gripped his hand in a tight fist. “Do not walk away from me!”

“Mira!”

“Answer me! Does Darkspanner know? Does Vodd? Are they alright with working for a deranged Master who might turn on us once he’s done with his current obsession?”

“Let. Me. Go!”

“No. I demand answers! I have a right to know! Is Revan a savior… or is he a motherfucking madman? Oh, sorry! Should I watch my fucking language? Should I care about hurting the sentiments of a habsdamned, cheating, lying genocide enabler? You were there for all of his crimes, weren’t you? You helped him set up and defend the Foundry, you helped him take over the Order of Revan, and you helped him raid the Temples!” A sudden suspicion almost made her lose her grip on his arm. “And did you have a hand in kidnapping Jasme?”

The man stopped trying to break her grip. He stared at her, the guilt writ all over his face even more clearly than before. It was all true, then. All of the worst rumors that she and her friends in the Order had laughed at. Called it all, too ridiculous to be true. Yet it was.

Mira had never felt more disappointed. She let him go, and mentally asked Tiarna Kaimeryn for forgiveness. Jasme too.

“What have you done to us?” she asked the smuggler, sadness and rage warring in her gut. She wasn’t one to engage with her claws, but today… her Lightsaber blazed alive in her left hand. Her hand became a claw that picked the hapless pilot into the air, choking the air out of his lungs. Today, she was mad!

“WHAT’S GOING ON, HERE?!” The Master himself entered the cantina, alerted by the compound’s security. He struck out with the Force, and Mira’s grip on his precious toy broke.

“You filthy cunt,” she snarled. She turned to Darkspanner, who’d rushed in behind him. “It’s all true!” she screamed at her. “This bastard really did try to kill anyone with Sith blood in their veins!”

“I know, my Child. Such was what the great and wise Master demanded.”

“What did you say?”

“The better question is, what are you going to do about it?” the Master challenged her.

“I can kill you, here and now—”

“You? Alone? Even your precious Kairegane Rooks struggled against me.”

“You’ve gone even further insane since then. And little Miss Darkspanner doesn’t know which end of her Lightsaber is the emitter. I like my odds.” She wasn’t bragging. She didn’t think she was.

“You’re a deluded fool. But consider this; what if you fail? What do you think will happen next? Remember Beniko and Shan? At this point, I doubt you think they’re actually the ones who killed Arkous and Darrok. Or that they deserve to be hounded as they are. Do you think it’ll be any harder to frame Lord Scorn?”

“What?!”

“You heard me. And unlike Beniko, Scorn is in Imperial territory. Our agents can have him tarred, feathered, and locked away before you and I are even done speaking.”

Mirabelle felt her blood run cold.

“And what about Lord Turan Rasmus? He’s but a middling lord, with more wealth than combat ability. He’s such an easy target for us, that he’s practically a sitting duck.”

“You would betray him?” Mira whispered. “Even though he funded so much of your current scheme?”

“I will do what I must. In case you didn’t get the memo; I spent centuries fighting this war. Setting my will against the greatest evil this galaxy has ever known. I may have died, but I haven’t lost yet. I will see my mission through. And whatever else you might think of me, only I can protect the galaxy from the darkness that still lurks beyond your ability to see.”

“What are you going to do with me?”

“I can still find a use for you. Finish the task I’ve set for you. Once I have succeeded, I promise that Scorn and Rasmus will be safe from my Wrath. Provided you don’t betray me, of course.”

“This is a worthy cause,” Darkspanner assured her. “You know this. The enemy really does need to die. Without it, the galaxy will not be safe. And no one can kill him, but Lord Revan.”

“No? Vajra Devarath did it.”

The Master was incensed by that. “Did he? Then why are we here? All that fool did, was delay the inevitable. In doing so, he gave me a second chance, I grant you that. But he has no way to end this for good.”

“And you do?”

“Of course, I do! I am Revan, Jedi who was once Sith! I have mastered the Light, and the Dark. I will destroy the enemy, forever. It is my life’s work. Now get out of my sight. Report to your new superior in the library within thirty minutes, or Lord Scorn finds an early wedding present.”

I won’t forget this, Revan. Have your fun now, but I will have my revenge in the end. Threatening Ray and Turan was a low-blow.

Unfortunately, she had no choice but to go along with him for now. But she was already thinking of ways to test her new chains. It was only later that she realized that she hadn’t replied to Ray’s messages since everything had gone south.

*

Chapter Text

Bimmisaari

The Azure Phoenix leapt out of Hyperspace like an arrow flying into a silver pool. Vajra usually paid attention to their destination and surroundings after completing a jump, but today, the only thing he could focus on, was their newly acquired ship.

“This handles like a finely tuned piano,” Vajra said excitedly.

“Indeed it does,” Lana agreed. “Interesting how perfect something can be, when a lot of work and effort is put into it.” Vajra squeezed her hand and she frowned at him confusedly. “What?” she asked.

“You are absolutely right,” Vajra said.

She thought about what she’d said, then chuckled. “I am, aren’t I? Cheers to dedication and care!”

<Ship : Azure Phoenix = piece of art!> T7 declared.

“Agreement: I find little in this ship that is subpar.” HK nodded.

There had been no short circuits, not overheated pipes and panels, no system alerts or sirens of any kind, nor any drift or rumblings. This, despite the ship being unused for a few years.

“Hey, how about taking this through some maneuvers?” Vajra asked. He waited for Lana to nod—she was at the helm—then gave the order. “HK, could you please inform flight control of our intentions?”

“Prompting: I only take orders from Master Beniko.”

Lana didn’t miss a beat. “HK, until further notice, you are to treat Vajra as your secondary master. Now, carry out his request!”

“Acknowledgement! I will contact flight control at once!”

“T7, please monitor all systems.”

<Acknowledged. All systems = green. Close monitoring protocols = activated.>

“The helm is yours,” Lana informed Vajra.

“But—”

“No ‘buts.’ You’re a better combat pilot than I am. Especially if there’s no actual combat involved.”

“Right,” Vajra said sheepishly.

Lana clapped his shoulder once he was in the pilot’s seat, then gave him a crisp kiss on his cheek. “Have some fun, sweetheart. And see if you can raise the imaginary hairs on my hands and neck.”

“Alright then! HK?”

“Report: Flight control has been notified, Master. We have been cleared.”

“Alright. T7, all power to engines and thrusters. Honey, strap yourself in really tight.”

“Flight test now, silly Jedi fetishes later.”

Vajra couldn’t help but laugh at that. Hard.

He angled the vessel slightly away from the small line of ships ahead and hit the accelerator. He took the ship into a tight corkscrew. After about nine seconds, he banked upwards and reversed the spin. He ended the roll as abruptly as the ship could handle it, then dived, banked right, left, then harder left. He pulled the ship up until it had reversed its direction. And finally, he stopped it dead in space, accelerated, then stopped again. The whole test had lasted fifteen minutes.

“How was that?” He asked his passengers.

“My eyeballs are rattling in my sockets,” Lana complained. “I’m going to feel that, in a few hours. Still… that was really good! Consider me thrilled.”

“Do I get a prize?”

Her reply was interrupted by T7. <All systems = normal. Stress on engines = optimal. Thrusters and fins = optimal. Damage to ship from jostling = not detected. Compiling full report.>

“You get to wait on me today,” Lana tilted her head. “While I recover from your rough handling.”

“Got it,” Vajra smiled. “Princess handling protocols activated. Setting our approach for Glastro.” That was the capital city of Bimmisaari.

“So, that’s Bimmisaari?” Lana asked, finally shifting the attention to the planet ahead. It was a blue world, with a lot of greenery.

“It is,” Vajra agreed. “It’s beautiful. Covered in dense jungles. Forests full of asaari trees.”

“What’s special about them?”

“They can rearrange their branches of their own accord. It’s quite a sight, apparently.”

“Is that right? Then I know what we’re doing for our next date. Find us a good spot for a picnic, would you, Love?”

“Of course.”

<Jedi: Vajra + Sith Lord: Lana Beniko = Focus, please.>

“Incredible suggestion! I like the way you think, T7!” Vajra turned the pilot’s chair towards Lana and fixed her with a steady gaze. He sighed like a happy child. “What a magnificent beauty she is!”

Lana almost fell out of her seat laughing, and T7 also seemed to admit that it was funny.

*

Outskirts of Glastro City

The Azure Phoenix landed in one of the mid-sized docks close to a large, colorful market. The ship was beautiful and distinctive, so the team had taken a short detour to Contruum—where Vajra was owed a debt of gratitude by a shipwright—to make the ship appear a little beat-up. A few coats of paint, and a few cosmetic modifications, and the ship looked much less like the piece of art it was. In addition, they’d gotten a stealth drive, and an ID scrambler.

As such, the ship was disguised and flying under a different name, just like themselves.

For the sheer amusement, Lana had chosen to continue with ‘Wolf and Knave.’ Vajra was ‘Bedivere Knave’, and she, ‘Penny Wolf’. They were a modestly wealthy couple from Corellia. T7-01 and HK-51 were now T7-23 and S1-1EL. And their ship was going by Brandyjack.

She was a red-haired, green-eyed human now, while he had black hair and light brown ones. They both wore clothes that a Corellian spacer was likely to wear—gilets, wide-brimmed hats, and tall boots. Lana wore her shirt fully buttoned up, but Vajra left his fully open out of habit. It made it easier to hide his extra pair of arms.

I think Vette noticed them, when she hugged me on reflex. He needed to get better at hiding them.

He and Lana were walking with their arms linked. Their admiration for the marketplace wasn’t entirely feigned; colorful canopies were a common theme among such places the galaxy all over, the architecture was unique. The largely unpainted buildings were built of mud bricks and thatched roofs. The more important structures had white walls and tall wooden roofs, with eaves that extended well beyond the walls. Some buildings were topped by rounded minarets.

The Bimms were a short race, and many of the structures in the markets were built with their height in mind. And yet, they could easily fit in the average humanoid or near-human species too.

“This is quite the quaint little market!” Lana declared in a voice that was slightly higher-pitched and slower than her usual one. “However did you hear about it?”

“I met a few Bimms on business,” Vajra replied. “They loved talking about their world-famous bazaar. It caught my interest.”

“You have good instincts, Honey!”

“Thank you! Now, how about my promise from a few weeks ago?”

“What promise, Hon?”

“We’re going to buy you some new clothes.”

“Ooooo, yessss!” Lana’s squeal of delight was remarkably cute. Vajra blushed, and had to look away. “But Honey, would they even have clothes my size?”

“Of course, they do, Sweetie! Bimmisaari is no Corellia, but they do get enough visitors, traders, and tourists that it’s profitable to make merchandise for off-worlders.”

“I can’t wait to get started then!” Lana cried. She tugged on his arm, leading him to a shop selling loose, flowy clothes in shades of red, orange, and yellow. They spent the day shopping, and purchased several new dresses for Lana, and two pairs of boots. All for a very reasonable price—for Lana had researched beforehand, which shops sold inexpensive, yet high-quality wares.

Soon after, they left to secure accommodations in the opposite part of the city, where the Revanites would be arriving in a couple of weeks. It was an independent cottage with tall windows and a small garden. A single, large bedroom; a kitchen, and a living room. The bathroom was fairly big, and came with a bathtub. The furnishings were quite soft and bouncy. There was a small pool outside. The compound was surrounded by a hedge just tall enough to stop the average humanoid from looking in.

All fairly good for its modest price.

“It’s good to be early, isn’t it?” Lana asked happily, once they’d taken the tour and washed up. “We have no clue what the enemy might be up to, so we can’t bother with it. Instead, we get to case the place.”

“I can’t wait to explore this world,” Vajra said. “It’s more beautiful than I’d expected. Perfect for a small holiday.”

“Yes. T7, I think you can find and hack a few terminals all over the city. Start gathering data, and creating backdoors for us. We need to know when the known Revanites arrive, and whom it is they meet, when they do. HK, you watch over him. Do not attack anyone first, and keep note of anyone taking an unhealthy interest in your activites.”

“Acknowledgement!” HK said loudly, as T7 said the same. The Astromech led the way out.

“What will we do?” Vajra asked.

“I will be looking out for rumors and gossip. Picking up local newspapers. Checking broadcasts. You, will watch my back and help me blend in. Make me laugh and sigh a little. Perfect things to do while on a date.” She looked at Vajra guiltily. “I’m sorry. I promise, I’ll treat you to a proper date soon.”

“Hey, I’m alright with it! So long as we get to spend time together.”

She giggled as his fingers twirled a lock of her hair, the ends swishing across her soft, pale ivory skin. He let go of her hair, and traced the contour of her ear. All while staring into her eyes. Yellow-and-orange eyes; for they’d both dropped the disguises, once they’d checked the room for bugs.

It was strange. Vajra had every reason to hate those yellow-orange eyes, after years of fighting the Sith… but he didn’t. He loved them. He loved everything about her, including the fact that she was a Sith. If he had to name one thing he would ask her to change, if she gave him the option, he wouldn’t do it at all. She was perfect the way she wanted to be.

And despite her own, low opinion of her beauty, Vajra was captivated by her heart-shaped face, strong cheekbones, keen eyes, pretty nose, and rosebud lips. Had he always been so? Not quite, but near enough. He’d had a favorable view of her, right from the start, since she’d saved his life. And things had progressed quickly, from there. And throughout it all, he’d felt this nagging sense of familiarity.

But why? He dug through his memories, but was interrupted by a sweet, tender kiss. “You look like you’re thinking too hard,” Lana admonished. She gently pulled him into a sleeping position beside her, then stroked his chest. “There’s a time for thinking, and one for deliberation. This, is neither.”

“I’m sorry, my Love. I was thinking of the many reasons why I love you. And I’m not joking.”

She laughed. “I know that feeling. Things went so quickly, didn’t they? And yet…”

“It feels like…”

“Like we’ve already been in love for years.”

“All our lives. Why’s that?”

“I’m sure you’ll think of something soon.” She stroked his cheek. Kissed his chin. “I’d do it myself… but I need to reserve this computer’s processing power.” She tapped her temple. Vajra laughed. Lana’s face grew less joking, more tender. “We’ll have to head out again soon. But I’d like a nap, first. In your arms, of course.”

“Alright. I’ll wake you in half an hour.”

“One, please.”

“One, it is.”

“Thank you.”

*

The sacred peak of Kailasha stood vigil some yojanas away. You could just make it out, standing taller than its lesser brethren around it. It was a clear day, for it to be visible.

The caravan had halted for the day. Everyone was seeing to setting up camp. The wagons had been set up in a circle, leaving a large space open in the middle. This would be where everyone sat down for dinner. Or gathered for singing and dancing.

Or had to discuss something, Vajra thought, though he’d never seen that happen. It felt strange. He was walking through a world of giants. Some part of his addled head told him he should be an adult, but he moved and reacted as a toddler. He played and shrieked and play-fought and flapped a pair of toy wings he’d helped his second-mother fashion, and which were currently strapped to his arms.

People picked him up and played with him. Some gave him treats for being a good boy. Others teasingly admonished him not to fly so high that the peaks were out of sight, for then, he would belong to the heavens, and could never return to them.

He and other children compared the masks and costumes they were wearing. They roared or sang in character… was there some festival, today?

But more than that… why couldn’t he remember anyone? Names flitted in and out of his head, forever on the tip of his tongue. Faces swam before him, tantalizingly familiar, yet unrecognizable.

He felt his breath catch in his throat. These were not just his people; they had been his extended family. His whole world. And he couldn’t remember many of them.

The realization made him stop and look around. He tried to speak, but no one understood him—for he spoke Basic, not Raudra. Everyone knelt down around him, asking him what was wrong, but he couldn’t tell them. He called for his parents and oldest sibling, crying his eyes and heart out… and just as his eldest sister, Trilochana, emerged from the crowd to comfort him, ask him what the matter was, he woke up.

*

Vajra was still crying, albeit softly. Beside him, Lana moaned something in her sleep. She turned, her arm brushing against his. Her presence comforted him; distracted him from the sense of loss.

This hadn’t been his first dream of his tribe. Those had started… less than a month ago. Shortly after the mission to Rakata Prime. When Lana had noted that he’d teared up from thinking about his family…

He heard the soft sound of her breathing, felt her warm face on his side—she’s no ice queen, he thought wryly—and tried to lull himself back to sleep—

When his eyes sprang open, and turned for the chrono on the wall. Shit!

“Lana,” he whispered, gently shaking her awake. “It’s been two hours. I’m sorry.”

Lana stirred. “Don’t be. I’m feeling all rested—” she yawned wide and stretched. She looked at him and frowned. “You’ve got tears in your eyes, again.”

“I had a dream,” he told her. “I was on Raudraksha. I was playing among my people. But I couldn’t recall a single name, nor recognize a single face. Not one! My family—whom I grew up with—were all strangers to me!”

“I’m sorry, my Love.” Lana hugged him tightly. “That must be so hard.”

“Let’s set that aside, for now. We’re very late, thanks to me dozing off.”

“It’s alright. I don’t mind being even later, just this once.”

“But it’s so childish—” Vajra tried to protest.

“Perhaps. But it’s a piece of you that was ripped out of your head. And now, it’s coming back, with a vengeance. Your tribe met a violent end, and you were never given the option to properly process your grief. This is old trauma that’s resurfacing. Let it. Don’t turn away, or you’ll find it on your list of things that haunt you. Now shush. Let the tears out. I’ll stay here, even if it takes all night.”

Vajra began weeping again, so suddenly that it felt like he’d been waiting for permission.  Lana continued to comfort him, and eventually, he could hear her soft sobs as well. And more; he thought he could feel her pain, as if his emotions resonated with hers. But it was more than that; while he was always able to Sense those around him, and their emotions, it felt like he was getting a slightly deeper look into her soul right now. A world full of beauty and intelligence and danger, colors and fogs and shadows, of secrets and curiosity and loneliness. Though the land was largely obscured from his view, and radiated a slight sense of menace, his heart told him that it was remarkably forgiving, kind, and selfless.

Lost in his wonder at what he was Seeing, he fell back into a deep—and this time dreamless—sleep.

*

Lana was awake a short while longer. She was surprised by her own tears. She’d watched people break down before, comforted them as they wept. She’d even done so, once, when under tremendous stress, herself.

Never before had she been so moved to mirror the outpouring. And there was more; she’d found that she was staring into Vajra’s heart. It was a world of meadows, flowers, forests, streams, snow, plains, and mountains. Chilly, but open and welcoming. Thick curtains of sunbeams shone through the light cloud cover above them, and the skies were equal parts cloudy and blue. She could hear the chirping of birds from the branches. The whole vision-that-was-not-a-vision was a spectacle that captured her heart. She could not make herself look away. She yearned to walk in the beautiful landscape, to explore all its nooks and crannies. She could live here, for the rest of her life. She could ignore everything happening in the galaxy, let the Revanites win, let the galaxy play out its idiotic dance. She surprised herself with such thoughts. Enough that she put some distance between it and herself. As she did, she found herself return to normal. She took a few moments to compose herself, ten allowed herself to sink back in. This time, she didn’t lose herself.

I was overwhelmed, that’s all. There’s no danger, here!

She settled in, allowing the feeling of warmth and security to carry her to sleep. Today’s tasks had been left unattended, but she found that she didn’t care at all. She was happy.

*

Chapter Text

Glastro

The excited whispers in the air died down as King Talin Rycar ascended the podium. He was a middle-aged Bimm, meaning he might be a hundred years old. He had fairly wide hips, and a short, trimmed beard. His daughter, Princess Nissa, stood beside him; resplendent in her lavish, red gown.

“People of Bimmisaari!” The king spread his arms wide as he could. “Old friends, esteemed guests, and treasured visitors! It gives me great pleasure to be here again, today, to kick off the start of the Bimm New Year celebrations!”

Everyone applauded enthusiastically. Someone whistled. Someone else tossed their baby high into the air, briefly alarming Lana’s boyfriend. A small orchestra played trumpets, drums, cymbals, flutes, and violins. Twenty skyrockets were launched into the air; and in each one’s wake blossomed twenty more. The sky was lit up by the display, briefly turning night into day. Once the lights and bursts faded away, the world seemed darker, and the cheering muted.

“And now that the kicker has concluded,” the monarch went on. “I invite the famous singer, Jamilla Starborn, to sing the traditional Bimm New Year song!”

Once the applause had faded, and silence engulfed the audience, the orchestra began playing a soulful melody.

“Have you heard of Starborn?” Vajra whispered to Lana, who nodded.

“She’s a good singer. Fantastic, even. But she’s no superstar. Still, I’m glad we can hear her today.”

“I believe she’ll have a full concert tomorrow.”

“Will she? Good. Perfect time to cut loose. Mingle.”

They fell silent again so they could listen to the Bimmini song. Vajra began to sing along, much to Lana’s surprise. It was nice to know that he still had a surprise or two for her.

Once it concluded, everyone broke off to engage in the festivities. There were a large variety of stalls to sample; dozens of different deep-fried street food, several types of dessert, several mini games—cards, fishing, shooting, hoop or dart throwing, balancing, throwing paintballs, among many others—and a larger tent with a stage, that could seat the five thousand or so revelers.

Many of the people gathered here to eat, and happily chatted with each other. Lana had set Vajra with the task of making small talk, while she—under the pretense of mild inebriation—listened in on the conversations around them.

Years of training had rusted somewhat from disuse, but she was satisfied with what she still had to work with. She didn’t need to be Cipher Nine, just a competent spy. And she certainly was that.

Paying half an ear to Vajra’s conversations, in case she needed to extricate him from someone asking the sort of questions he couldn’t handle, she picked up a lot of interesting gossip from those around her. Heard a lot of names, rumors, news, and events which she would make a physical note of, later.

Unfortunately, her instincts reminded her that ‘interesting’ did not mean ‘relevant.’ Not today. Still, at least she got a good idea of who all the important people here on Bimmisaari, and what they were up to.

“What is it?” she whispered to Vajra when he squeezed her elbow.

“I Sense a familiar presence,” he told her. “A Sith… or an ex-Sith, I should say. A failed acolyte, by the name of Kory. And if she’s here, then perhaps her captain is, too. Juniper McIntyre.”

“Who is this acolyte? How did you meet her?”

“She was… well, I didn’t ask her circumstances. I met her in my first week on Tython. So, when I was fourteen. She was discarded by the Overseers on Korriban, and smuggled out somehow, by someone who cared. I don’t know how good her Senses are. She might have practiced, after I met her.”

“And who’s this… Captain Juniper McIntyre?”

“A starship captain who is a trusted dealer for the Jedi Council. She’s come to Tython many times, though I’ve only met her once or twice. She’s charming, sweet, kind. And more than that, she travels a lot. She knows a lot of people, which could help us. On the other hand…”

“She might be a Revanite.”

“Not one of their more hardcore members, but yeah. And by the way, she’s sharp too.”

Lana understood why Vajra was consulting her. A conversation with them could bear fruit. But they might be courting trouble. Especially if her friend, this Kory, was adept at keeping an eye on her Surroundings. Lana was glad she’d taken the trouble to Mask Vajra’s signature, in addition to her own. “I’ll handle this, just in case.”

“Great! I can see them now, just ahead. Juniper is the one with pink and blue hair. Kory is the woman with the high, white boots. Oh, and that child is probably Juniper’s son, Adam.”

Lana’s eyes narrowed at the boy, who looked to be around seven or eight. And like any overly energetic young child, he had energy to spare; enough to be running his guardians ragged. Though they seemed to be bearing it with grace.

And he seemed to be leading the women right in their direction. How convenient!

“Hallo there!” Lana said brightly, when the child almost tripped and fell on her feet. “Are you alright?”

“Adam!” his mother admonished. “Say ‘sorry’ to the nice lady!”

“Oh! It’s no trouble at all,” Lana said brightly. “Such a strapping young man you’ve got there!”

“He’s a darling,” the captain coughed, then smiled. Lana noticed that her voice was a little hoarse. Was she unwell? “My name’s Juniper McIntyre,” she introduced herself. “My boy here is Adam.”

The ex-Acolyte looked warier than her captain had, but smiled and introduced herself as well. “I’m Kory McIntyre. Not married to the Captain, just… adopted, I guess.”

“Found family is wonderful,” Lana gave a slightly silly laugh. “My name is Penny. And this is my boyfriend Bedivere.”

Vajra smiled and waved. “Hi!”

“This is our first time on Bimmisaari,” Lana explained. “And we’re here for our first vacation.”

“Is that so?” the Captain picked up her son, to keep him from running away while she was occupied. Lana thought she was quite beautiful. Her face was nice and chubby, and her long, blue-and-pink hair was in a very loose ponytail. She coughed again. “Well, I appreciate the spirit of wanderlust. It was for that reason why I wanted to be a spacer—travel and adventure! Never thought I’d have my own ship, so young in life. I remember my first time here. Say,” her eyes sparkled. “You said you’re here on a romantic getaway, right?”

“Oh, yes! Have any recommendations for us?”

“As a matter of fact, I do.” The woman grinned. “There’s a nice little picnic spot about a hundred-and-fifty kilometers away from the city. South-by-southwest. Secluded little spot. Waterfall with a pool; nice, soft grass. Lots of flowers. Enough tree cover for shelter and privacy. Best part? Not very well-known. So, you’re gonna have that little piece of paradise all to yourselves!”

“The captain went there for a date there, herself,” Kory confided in them. “So, she’s speaking from experience.”

“That’s great!” Lana cried. “We’ll be sure to head on over there, once the New Year’s celebration ends.”

“Just be a dear, and clean up after yourselves. Secluded spots sometimes get messy, on account of no one being there to look after it.”

“Of course, Madam. Have you eaten yet? Is it alright if we join you for dinner?”

“By all means!” the Captain said, taking hold of Lana’s (free) hand. “Coming, Kory?”

“Of course. After everything you’ve given me, you need an Isotope-5 engine and Captain Stede’s bronco of a ship to shake me off.”

“You know Captain Stede?” Vajra asked her. Lana and Captain McIntyre listened in. “She saved us on Corellia. How is she, these days?”

Kory frowned. “I dunno. Haven’t met her in four years. I think that means you met her more recently than I did.”

“Yes. I wonder how she is, now.”

“That one was always good at finding trouble, skinny-dipping in it, then leaping back out. I’m sure she’s fine, even without Kraot to keep her in line. By the way, I met him recently.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. It was after the raid on Tython,” she said, her expression falling. “He looked so… sad to be among all the dead. He got to his knees and wept, when he saw the first dead Padawan.”

“He sounds like a good man.”

“He is. Carries the weight of the galaxy on his shoulders. I see you don’t know him.”

“No… just Captain Stede.”

“I see. Say, you were on Corellia, right? Did you see any Sith?”

“Umm. A few. They were preoccupied.”

“I see.”

“Was there anyone in particular?” Lana asked. “I think I saw Darth Arkous once. Or maybe it was Vowrawn… we were too far away, weren’t we, Honey?”

“Yes,” Vajra nodded.

“No… no, forget I asked.”

“Alright.”

“I’m sorry. They invaded your home.”

“It’s alright.”

“Come on, now!” the Captain said excitedly. “I wanna go on a tasting spree!”

“Remember to leave a little room for your medicine, Jue!” Kory said fondly.

“Thank you, Kory!”

*

Back in their cottage, Lana typed fast to finish jotting down all of what she’d discovered. Not that she was in any danger of forgetting all that potentially important information; at least, not until she went to bed. Sleep tended to shuffle her memories around a little. No, she wanted to be done quickly, so she and Vajra could get a few hours of sleep before dawn.

“Did we learn anything today?” Vajra asked when she paused for a snack.

“Little, I’m afraid. Or at least, little of known value. But we met a lot of people. Some might be Revanites. I’ll have to think on it later.” She yawned widely, then stretched. “Get some sleep, Love. Wake up early and train late into the morning, if you wish. I’ll be going over everything we’ve learned. With luck, there’s a hint in here that tells us who our enemies are.”

“You think we’ll—”

“Get that lucky?” Lana shrugged. “It’s happened before, often enough. If we do find something before this… Shrana gets here…”

“Shrana… Shrana Kaprian. I’ve never heard of her.”

“Nor had I, before my research. She’s one of the owners of a small-time shipping company that operates in the Halla sector. She personally flies one of their seven trawlers.”

“She doesn’t sound like a Revanite to me.”

“You could be right. It’s possible she’s hired help, like Jakarro. Or us. And I shouldn’t forget that Lord Scorn and Vette were pulled into the mess on Falleen. The Revanites aren’t opposed to using outsiders.”

“T7 can look for whoever it is, that hired her.”

“Those records are on Celen. I suppose we could fly on over to Chelpori city and look, but I don’t see the wisdom in it. Yet.”

“Alright.”

“But I would like to find out whom she’s making the shipment to. It’s all very secretive.”

Shrana Kaprian would arrive on Bimmisaari in a few weeks. When that happened, there was a small chance that things would move quickly. Perhaps too quickly for Lana and Vajra to stop, even if they had all the resources of Imperial and Republic Intelligence at their disposal. Sometimes, plots were just that mature when discovered. But stopping the Revanites’ plot here was the secondary objective, so far as Lana was concerned.

What chiefly interested her, was unmasking more Revanites, or discovering more of their plots. Or to track down Revan himself.

To that end, she would grudgingly allow the Revanites to succeed on this world, so long as their ultimate fate was failure.

*

Vajra was quite used to practicing parkour and stealth at the same time, especially at this time of the day. He always woke up around 04:30 when he needed to practice in secret. He was quite stealthy, if he did say so himself. He barely made a sound while sprinting, and could scale or descend from tall buildings without any loud creaks in the railings, posts, and roofs that he ran on.

In a way, he was familiarizing himself with the city, he thought to himself. He was learning its layouts, alleyways, shortcuts, and dead-ends.

By the time he decided to return to their lodgings, it was around 05:45. The sun was starting to rise, and the city had turned a lovely orange under before that benign glow. He was on the ground level now, jogging at a steady pace back to the cottage.

“Master!”

Recognizing HK’s voice, Vajra stopped and turned around, waiting for the droid to catch up to him.

“Hey there, Shel. What’s going on?” ‘Shel’ was short for ‘S1-1EL,’ the designation HK was presently going by.

“Announcement: Given your propensity for early morning exercises, I came to warn you of our discovery, Master.
Statement: These streets are not as safe as they seem to be. There’s a serial killer on the loose.”

“What?”

“Confirmation: It’s true, Master.
Statement: The local constabulary has discovered their third kill in four months late last night. All with the same MO and signature.
Statement: In just a few hours, they will be making their announcement to the public. Nightly security will be raised soon.
Statement: it will be unsafe for you to conduct your training in the dark.
Cautionary: Certain peoples might find your behavior suspect, should they find you.”

“I’ll bear that in mind, Shel.” Vajra’s mind raced. A part of him wanted to hunt down this serial killer, but the wiser half reminded him that he wasn’t trained as a homicide investigator. Besides, Vajra Devarath wasn’t even supposed to be on this world; and Bedivere Knave was no fighter.

Hating himself for surrendering to sense, Vajra returned to the cottage to pass on the message to Lana.

*

Two days later

Lana was true to her word. Despite everything that was going on, she managed to schedule an entire evening off, for the both of them. She took care of all the prep work, including booking transportation, and preparing the tent, bedroll, picnic basket, and boombox.

At around 1500 in the afternoon, they set out for their destination: the spot Captain Juniper McIntyre had told them about. The journey there was uneventful but picturesque. Once they reached the place, they left the speeder nearby, and took a proper tour of the area.

It was everything they’d been promised, and more; the waterfall with the rainbow born of the mist, the meadow with all of its blooming flowers and lush grass, the asaari trees which formed a loose ring around the water’s edge, and all of the animals and birds flitting around.

Once they were done with their exploration, they sat down on the natural carpet of flowers and grass, and sat down for their late lunch.

“Vajra,” Lana smiled, looking extremely bashful and shy.

“Lana,” Vajra smiled back. He did his best to make her feel comfortable, for he got the feeling she had something important to say.

With a very deep breath, Lana said, “I have something I want to confess. Or rather, to show off. It’s… a deeply cherished hobby of mine. But… it’s a little… embarrassing.” She finished in a small voice.

“Oh?”

“I’ll admit… I’ve kept this a secret, because it doesn’t suit my ice queen persona.”

“And… and you want to share this with me?”

“That’s the idea.”

Vajra felt quite humbled. “I understand. I appreciate your trust in me.”

The bashful Lana pulled out a datapad and began to recite poetry. Her own, she admitted after completing the first one. She was equal parts proud and embarrassed. But she was happy to hear Vajra’s sincere praise. She went through seven more poems—the last, Vajra was astounded to realize, being epic poem in the works.

“You are a woman of so many talents,” Vajra whispered. “And every one of them is a hook that steals my heart away.”

“Oh, stop it!”

“Sorry. I don’t have words. The best ones were taken.” He nodded at the datapad she’d just set down, and she cackled happily.

They spent the next few hours in the secluded pool, swimming and lounging. Vajra introduced Lana to his personal brand of swordsmanship. They returned to their picnic for an early dinner, still in their swimming costumes.

After eating their fill, he took her cheek in his hand. She sank into his touch, placing an arm around his neck. They brought their lips together, and kissed.

They took their time. Each kiss only lasted a few seconds before they parted, and more time was spent taking in the moment; staring into each other’s eyes, inhaling each their scents, enjoying the loose embrace.

When the sun had almost reached the distant hills, their kisses began to linger. They grew more intimate, more sensuous. The couple allowed the explosion of sensation to run amok, like a fireworks display under an overenthusiastic child’s control. They felt the heat spread out across their entire bodies, and seemingly out into time and space.

And when they finally picked up a more frenetic pace, they both sunk deeper into an abyss of passionate kissing. But it looked like she was hungry for more, today.  Their fingers began to explore each other as they kissed. His fingers pressed a few stray locks of her hair behind her ears, then felt the curve of her flesh from her earlobe to her soft cheek. The motion sent a shudder through her body.

Her hand rubbed the back of his neck, and stroked his hair. Her other hand entered his tunic and rubbed against his chest and collarbone, sending a tremor of his own down his body.

Her moans were soft and pleasant, just like every inch of her face. Even her hair was so silky that he could not help but run his little finger through it a few times.

He lowered his hand, rubbing it along her arched neck, tracing the curve into her collarbone. From there, he traced her shoulder, pulling her strap off as he did so.

Breaking off their kiss, he lowered his mouth down the same path his fingers had just traced. She arched her neck back, allowing him to kiss her exposed throat. She moaned, and he savored the feel of her vocals thrumming against his lips.

Several lingering minutes later, she brought her head back down, and their kiss resumed, but with an uptick in frenzy. She launched herself into him, climbing on top of him and writhing like an excited puppy in his arms. She pinned him on his back and began swaying tantalizingly on top of him with her mouth still locked firmly on his. The sensations overwhelmed him, sending such strong currents throughout his body he may have been kissing a live wire. Never had any action made him feel so alive! Passion truly was a powerful thing, and it was no wonder the Sith and Jedi both had such strong opinions on it.

He was well past giddy by this point, completely immersed in the sensations running throughout his body. If you had asked him then what his name was, he would have lacked the wit to do more than gape.

He felt like he was submerging deeper into pure bliss with every kiss, deeper into the hot passion, and the comfort. He was almost sinking into her. On a psychic level. It was like every second he was becoming drawn into her being. Every corner of his heart felt exposed to her, ripe for the harvest.

And yet the sensation brought little fear, for he trusted her completely. And indeed, it felt like she was conscious of it too. The barriers between them breaking. For a moment, Vajra recalled the sensation from the other day, as if her soul had a haven that it existed in.

He saw his own, too. A large world he’d been mostly unaware of, until today, yet which Lana seemed to know, like he knew hers. Vajra felt these two worlds overlapping and merging. Little, by little… and bit by bit, he was able to feel her own emotions with the same intensity that he felt his own. They were similar to his, though subtler in their effect. The passion, the joy, the damn wonder of what was happening between them.

And somehow, it was building. The cool fogs and shadows of her emotions—for that was how it seemed to him in his head—blended with the sunny vales and of his; and suddenly a brilliant purple flame was born, one stronger by far than either of their emotions alone, a sun compared to two blazing bonfires.

Its intensity startled them so hard that they squealed and sprang apart.

Vajra stared into her eyes, finding the same profound, awestruck look in her eyes. She panted ferociously, just like he was. He could still feel her emotions; like his, they felt like her world had been shaken... hard. And the pieces had landed in such a pleasing new pattern that it left them both speechless.

The resonance, that blending of their emotions, faded after a few heartbeats, but remained firmly in his breast. He clutched at it, feeling as if he had been reborn. And then, without warning, their two worlds had united. He could feel her emotions, feel the music of her thoughts... and she could feel his.

And neither shirked away from it. Instead, they reveled.

She leaned close once again, and cupped his face in her hands. Her forehead pressed against his, and her ragged breath warming his stunned face.

“A Force Bond,” she whispered. She experimented, Reaching into him and experiencing happiness as it worked in his heart. She inhaled deeply and he felt something blossom in her heart, a twinge of some indescribable but agreeable emotion. “Did we just forge a Force Bond?”

“I think we did,” he nodded, kissing her hands. There were tears streaming down his face. He had never felt so happy in his life.

“Yes we did,” she breathed, laughing shakily. She pulled his mouth back into hers, and they kissed once more with the deep frenzy that relit the still-blazing fire in their souls.

So hot it burned, that he lost all track of time and thought, with only the constant pressure of his raging emotions in his head. No, not just his. Hers, too.

Vaguely, he felt himself sitting back up, his hands moving Lana onto his lap. Of interlocking their fingers, and holding tightly. Of her beautiful voice bleating in his mouth. His trembling fingers exploring her breasts, or hers on his bottom.

When they were finally exhausted, night had fallen, and they lay gasping for breath under the stars.

“Lana...” Vajra managed.

“I know,” Lana whispered. Her love was now as obvious to him as a galloping, singing Rancor.

*

Chapter Text

*

Satele Shan’s quarters,
Tython

Satele Shan, Grand Master of the Jedi Order, one of the galaxy’s most famous and battle-tested Jedi, accomplished diplomat, praised in polite circles as a master of her senses, was dog tired. She hid yawn after yawn, hoping in vain that she was showcasing some of that legendary Jedi poise today.

The warfronts, which had been overwhelmingly tipping in their favor since the death of the Emperor, had started to stabilize again. Ever since the Empire had gained control of most of Makeb’s Isotope-5. And ever since the attacks on Tython and Korriban. The fruits of Dromund Kaas, though dearly bought, were already gone. It was back to the endless slog now, which had come during the last decade of the Great War. Unending back-and-forths, quickly reversed gains, attack and counterattack.

Pointless. Meaningless. Reasonless.

Somewhere along the way, it had become something Satele had despised the old Council and High Command for, in her youth; focus on statistics. Information. Cold calculus.

Lose one hundred soldiers in this battle? Send in another hundred and fifty to reinforce them. Lose a squad of Jedi in a suicide mission? Send in another, from a different angle.

Throw away lives for a mere distraction, so that the true objective elsewhere could be taken…

Satele was sickened. It had been nothing but this for weeks, since the attack on Tython.

Chancellor Saresh leered at her. Confident and invincible at the start of her term, thanks to starting off on the highest possible note, the Twi’lek had not been pleased by the seeming end of Republic fortunes. She seemed to hold the Jedi responsible for it. Her angry huffs whenever she had to speak to a Council member were bad enough; but today, Satele was worried she’d have to put up with snide remarks of ‘Am I boring you, Grand Master?’

The three-hour-long meeting finally ended, and Satele allowed herself to drop the pretense. “Think she noticed?” she asked Bela Kiwiiks, the only other Council member in attendance today.

“She can be quite sharp,” Bela admitted, also slumped in her seat. “But she’s not the sort to let it slide. She didn’t bring it up, so I think she didn’t notice.”

The only other Jedi in the room piped up, her voice dripping with her usual, ironic tone. “Unless, of course, she saved it for the rumor mill. Recorded it, so she could let it slip to her sycophants in the media. I’ll let you know tomorrow, if stills and rumors start circulating.”

Satele chuckled and looked at Kira Carsen. “It’s good to have you back, Kira. Sorry, you had to suffer through that.”

“You’re making it up to me. I was supposed to be in-and-out. I needed be on my way to Rodia an hour ago.”

Satele laughed again. “You did good work on Jabiim. I wanted to hear your impressions, firsthand.”

“Really?” Kira cocked an eyebrow. “I somehow think that’s not what you’re really after. Darth Anathel wasn’t such a big deal, and I wasn’t involved with the force we defeated in orbit. As for the Mask, Master Devel did the hard work. I just watched him. What you really want to hear about, is Jasme. Or Vajra.”

“I—yes. Yes, I do.” Satele sat back and sighed again. She rubbed her temples tiredly. “They send me recorded messages twice a week, to reassure me that they’re alive and well. But it’s not enough for me. Not after their last prolonged absence.”

“When they were prisoners of the Empire. I don’t blame you. I’m sorry, Master. But I don’t know much.”

“I think you do,” Master Kiwiiks said. “Because you’re nowhere near as stressed as Satele is. You know what they’re up to, at least enough to be unconcerned. Mostly.”

“Shoot. I should’ve thought of that. Too late, I suppose. Kira bad.” The redhead tapped a fist into her head, as if joking at punishing herself.

“You can tell us, Kira. This room has been swept for bugs. My protocol droid has the latest, up-to-date programming at finding bugs.”

Kira deflated. “I honestly don’t know if that’s enough. Still… feels bad, leaving you in the dark like this. I remember how bad you got, last time. Alright, I’ll talk. Some. I know a little bit about what they’re up to. But it’s not much.”

“Anything,” Satele said, a little desperately. “Anything at all.”

“Have you heard from Director Trant, or Supreme Commander Malcom? About Theron.”

“I—what’s happened to Theron?” Satele felt a sudden spike in alarm. Her son, unlike Vajra and Jasme, was not one for regular contact, so she had merely assumed he was doing well. She was so sure Marcus would’ve informed her, otherwise. Had she been wrong?

“He’s safe, but in hiding. Because someone with a bit of pull, managed to pile charges of corruption, treason, and desertion on his head. He’s been disavowed as a rogue agent, to be apprehended on sight.”

Satele and Bela looked at each other in stunned disbelief.

“And all he did was look into the colonel responsible for the Korriban raid. His friend, I believe. Colonel Darrok.”

“I’ve met him,” Satele nodded. “He was a hero. So, Theron was looking into him?”

“Yeah. Theron thought the Korriban-Tython thing was fishy. Timing was too convenient. So, he looked into it. On the other side, a Sith adjutant to Darth Arkous was looking into her superior. Next thing we know, Arkous and Darrok are dead, and Theron and this Sith are in trouble. In fact, the advisor Sith has been accused of murdering Arkous, and has a death sentence on her head. It’s… kind of a surprise they didn’t level the same charges on Theron. Or, for that matter, on the man who actually fought both men.”

“Vajra…” Satele said his name before she could even think.

“That’s right.”

“Why?!”

“They had answers, and refused to come in quietly. There’s a greater scheme unfolding out there, and those two clowns had answers. But they killed themselves, rather than betray their cause. And Vajra and Theron and Jasme—and the Sith I mentioned—don’t know anything about the cause, or the co-conspirators. They’re trying to clear their names, and figure out who’s who. And they’re not sending any incriminating messages to anyone who has a lot of eyes on them.”

Satele pulled up her shawl around her shoulders to ward off the sudden chill.

“That’s why they’re not telling you anything important. It doesn’t matter how tight security is. You’re being watched. Closely. Honestly, it’s a big risk telling you even this much. Theron would be so mad, if he finds out.”

“I won’t tell him.”

“Thanks, Masters. To be honest, I’m worried too. Especially for Jasme. I wanted to help them directly. But the boss wants me here, fighting on the front, since he can’t be.”

Satele finally understood the cryptic warnings Vajra and Jasme had sent her, and the way they’d both started signing off with a ‘please pray for us.’

“You know, come to think of it, this third party might be the reason for the stagnation lately,” Kira said thoughtfully. “They might be sabotaging both sides’ war efforts in order to keep us distracted. Not something Vajra told me, it just occurred to me. I don’t know if he’s even aware of just how bad things have gotten.” She finished the tea and stood. “That’s all I’ve got for you, Masters.”

“Thank you, Kira. It’s more than we had an hour ago. You may leave. Or would you like to stay on Tython a while?”

“Thank you. I think I will. Been so damn tired lately! I think I’ll take a nap before heading out. And you should rest, too.”

“We will.”

“You can rest in my room, Kira,” Bela said, taking her arm. “No one will disturb you, there.”

Kira and her former Master left after that, leaving a disquieted Satele behind. But at least she had some more information now. Theron was in trouble, was he? Why hadn’t she been told—no. She would trust in her children. She owed them that much.

Instead, Satele allowed herself to doze off on her sofa, thinking all the while about how the restoration of the Tython Temple. But at this late hour, she wondered if the cost had been worth it. It had long since lost its greatest defense—secrecy. The world could still function as a military base, but the younglings and Padawans were no longer safe here.

Perhaps it’s time to shift the training away from Tython. Perhaps I need to start preparing for a different world to take over as the secret training ground for our young. Yes, I’ll talk to Tol about it… or should I? What if word gets out? This needs to be secret, and yet… dammit!

She understood why Vajra and Jasme were forced to keep her in the dark.

*

Dantooine

Jasme Shan had her target in her sights; the Mando bandit, Hadvar Mast. He was right there, with his back turned. His armor was off, so she could aim for his exposed back. At a mere thirty meters, she couldn’t miss. But she wasn’t able to do it.

And the reason was simple; she had never killed before. She hadn’t even been in actual combat before, though she had trained for it.

She finally understood Vajra’s pain, from the first time she’d met him. He’d been a mere teenager, a little more than half her current age, and he’d already been forced to kill more than a thousand Khrayii. And the count had not stopped. She recalled something Kira had told her, too, where Vajra had engaged the enslaved Power Guard so she wouldn’t have to.

People in the know, often thought of Vajra as weak and swayed by his emotions, and while Jasme was never in that number, she gained new clarity about how strong he really had to be. He rarely hesitated.

Her indecision almost cost her her life. Mast turned around and saw her. He drew his gun. A shot rang throughout the plains. Jasme flinched… but she wasn’t the one hit. The Mando was violently thrown to his left, and fell. There was a large hole in his temple.

<Too slow!> Jakarro roared.

“I’m sorry.”

<Why does Jasme hesitate? This Mandalorian was a pirate and a bandit. He killed hundreds of unarmed men, women, and children!>

“I’ve never killed before, alright?”

<But Jasme have almost been killed before, hasn’t she? Then why doesn’t she understand? Is she not wise? How is it she has faced death so many times, yet does not understand what is at stake, when it’s kill or be killed? Why is it that she cannot kill to protect her own life?>

“As rough as my master, Jakarro’s words are, he is right,” the droid head around his neck said. “If you can’t fight and kill, even to protect yourself, you’re a liability. You’re going to get yourself killed. Or one of us, as we step in to protect you. You’re not in the Archives anymore.”

“I got that, D4.”

“Then shoot your next target,” D4 said. “Please.”

“Alright.”

<But set that aside for now,> Jakarro said. <Come. This man has good gear. Shame to let it go to waste.>

“Jakarro! You’re not going to get her to wear Mandalorian armor, are you?! That’ll paint a real target on her back!” D4 protested.

<Idiot droid! Beskar can be camouflaged to look like regular armor! Besides, it’s the weapons, that are the true prize!> The Wookiee picked up the Mandalorian’s gauntlets and jetpack.

“Ahh, yes!” D4 agreed. “It’s practically a Mandalorian religious tenet to be armed to the teeth. Those gauntlets have a flamethrower and missile launcher. You can also equip an electronet launcher on that thing. Oh, but be judicious when using the flamethrower, since it gets its fuel from your jetpack.”

<The kindly Jasme already has some training in combat,> Jakarro patted her head softly. <The mighty Jakarro will teach her how to use these.>

“Great. I have half-baked knowledge of Jedi fighting techniques, now I’m about to have half-baked knowledge about Mando ones.”

<Doesn’t matter how well baked the skill. What matters, is how you use them. Jasme Shan has knowledge. She is good at gaining more. But does she use it?>

“I’ll find out soon, I suppose.”

“That’s the spirit!” C2-D4 cheered. “Jakarro might not be a Mandalorian, but he does know how to use weapons like these. Pay attention, and you might learn something.”

*

Later that day

Theron was not used to being the first back home.

Good. My turn to do the house work, I suppose!

He began cooking, tossing eggs, beans, and bell-peppers in a pan as the orange light of Dantooine’s evening spilled all over him.

Jasme and Jakarro entered just as he was finishing up. “Hey guys!” he grinned. “Dinner is ready.”

“Yaaay, thanks, big brother!” Jasme gave him a tight hug and kiss. Theron still wasn’t used to this. “Come to think of it, I’ve never had your cooking before.”

“I’m not the best. But I was here first today, so I felt obligated to return the favor.”

“Hmmm. It’s my greatest wish that we do this with mom and dad, someday.”

“Not Vajra?”

Jasme hesitated. “He’s not close to dad, unfortunately. His presence might make it awkward.”

“I thought they’d met before?”

“Several times. Including once when mom invited him and Kira for tea.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. This was after the Battle of Organa Castle. He had gotten everyone’s attention by single-handedly routing an army, so the two of them wanted to let Vajra know that he was about to be thrust into the spotlight. I believe he was overwhelmed to find out.”

“Can’t blame him. The Battle of Organa Castle… how old would he have been, around that time?”

“Fifteen.”

“FIFTEEN!?!”

Jakarro also roared his surprise.

“Makes you appreciate him more, doesn’t it?”

“I guess so.”

“I honestly can’t say if dad will warm up to me and mom ‘adopting’ Vajra, but…”

“I get what you mean. He’s awkward with me. We can’t all be as easy to love as you are.”

Jasme patted his head and took a taste of his cooking. “I see someone hasn’t heard the concept of seasoning. Here. A bit of salt. Some pepper. At the very least. Want to add a bit more?”

“Maybe. How much?”

“Not very. You need to keep tasting, to make sure it’s good.”

“I’ve never been fussy about it. It just needs to be nutritious.”

“Not a bad mantra to have, brother mine. But you’re a spy. I’m surprised you haven’t needed to host a few contacts for dinner, yet. This is a useful skill to have.”

“Point taken.”

“Come on, now. Watch how I do it. Taste that.” Jasme gave him a spoon after taking a taste herself (She used a different spoon). “See? That’s how you want it to taste.”

“Got it. Thanks.”

“Do you have a side to go with the main course?”

“Just some leftover bread.”

“That will do. And some punch, too.”

<The mighty Jakarro will get it for you!>

“Thanks.”

“You came just in time,” Theron said. “We need to talk about the Revanite plot here.”

“Do we know what they’re up to?”

“Not quite. They’re after something in the old Jedi Enclave, just as we thought.”

Jasme scoffed. “That was a no-brainer, since there’s little else on Dantooine. Maybe the old ruins that Revan and Malak visited, with the Rakata star map. But that was buried under tons of rubble when Malak bombarded Dantooine. We don’t even know if it’s intact.”

“Right,” Theron hurriedly interrupted. “But what’s even in the Enclave, that’s worth raiding?”

“Well…” Jasme frowned, racking her brains for answers. “It was once a major training center and stronghold of the Jedi Order. It had its own Archives and Masters. There were a bunch of secrets that were guarded in this place, but most were lost in Malak’s bombardment. There was a reliquary in there, too. One with ancient Sith artifacts inside. The full catalogue has long since been lost, because the then Master of the Archives—Atris—deleted that sort of information.”

“What!? Why?!”

“I don’t know her exact reasons. But she was quite vain and self-righteous. Very quick to pretend her own beliefs and suppositions were immutable facts. Her successor, Master Mical, was forced to spend five years researching everything she’d corrupted, and cleansing her biases. So, anyway. The Enclave was rebuilt after the Battle of Khoonda, but it was bombed out again by Sith during the war. No one’s had time to rebuild it, and it’s so badly decayed that even scavengers and salvagers don't like taking their chances.”

“Damn.”

“But I may have something. Someone who can help us.”

“Oh?”

“I noticed someone in the market this morning. Someone we once met, when we were with Master Zho. I thought she’d died, but clearly, she merely resigned from the Order. She’s living here on Dantooine.”

“What’s her name?”

“Aryn Leneer.”

“I remember her. She was such a kind young woman.”

“You kicked her.”

“And she was still so nice to me. Just as well. I’d like to apologize to her. But why do you think she might be able to help?”

“I’ve read her files, and she had the gift of curiosity. This isn’t a sure thing, but I suspect that she’s been to the Enclave at least a few times. Checked it out.”

“How do we know she’s not a Revanite?”

“We don’t. But she’s not important enough to be one. Besides, her file in the Archives lists her as MIA. Even the Jedi don’t know that she lives here. They don’t even know if she’s alive. She’s a ghost, living well under the radar. The only way she’s a Revanite, is if she sought them out first.”

“Then she’s as good a person as any, to talk to.”

“I’m glad you see things my way.” Jasme squeezed his shoulder.

“I’ll see if I can find her. It won’t be easy, assuming she’s living under a pseudonym.”

“I have something for you. The vendor seemed to know her well. She called her Missus Adonis.”

“That narrows it down. Hopefully, she’s not using a double-pseudonym.”

“Right. Anyway, dinner’s ready! Chow time.”

*

Kouhaush Muin

Darth Marr appreciated austerity. Out-of-control materialism was a distraction, after all. The Tiarna of House Rooks was well known as someone who indulged her love of contests, so it was easy to forget that she was actually disciplined and dutiful.

Her domain was one of the most peaceful in the Empire, even counting the many worlds that weren’t populated solely by Muinar.

And her home was decorated, as most palaces were, but the ornaments were tasteful and pleasant. Not the explosion of jewels and paintings and statues, like Ravage’s estate. Or even Darth Nox’s.

Marr was allowed to land in the green right outside her innermost sanctum. He stepped outside and inhaled the air of Kouhaush Muin after nearly three decades. He was met by the Tiarna’s apprentice, Jaesa Willsaam.

“Greetings, my Lord. Welcome to Kouhaush Muin.”

“Hmm. Lead me to your Master.”

The woman seemed a little taken aback by the disposal of pleasantries. “At once, my Lord.”

She led him straight to the door opposite the lawn. The Tiarna’s parlor. The Muinar put down a report as he entered and smiled at him. She was wearing what could only be described as decorated training gear; clothes that could be worn while exercising, or all but the most formal meetings. Marr took a seat, and declined the Tiarna’s hopeful offer for a drink.

Her curiosity was rather open, he gave her that. Many wondered what he looked like behind his mask. But he couldn’t allow them to have an answer, not even the mightiest Sith alive. He was Darth Marr, not the man wearing his mask.

“Shall we get on?” he asked her. “I’m needed elsewhere after this.”

“Of course. You know, you could’ve just called, if your time is so scarce.”

“And miss coming to Kouhaush Muin? I think not.”

The Tiarna chuckled. “Would you mind waiting another minute? One of your colleagues has just entered the atmosphere. Jaesa will bring him in shortly.”

“Who is it?”

“Darth Nox. I thought he wanted to talk about the same thing as you.”

“The incident at Jabiim.”

“So that is what you’re here to talk about.”

“Indeed. Let us wait for Nox.”

“In the meantime, I was hoping for your perspective on something.”

“That being?”

“I’m still investigating the Korriban-Tython incident. But I keep coming up empty. It’s not Beniko. If anything, her lack of involvement is evident in many crucial portions of the plan, including the raid on both Temples’ vaults.”

“Interesting. I’m afraid I’ve only hit dead ends myself. I placed an… open request along certain channels, hoping they would reach an old asset. But she’s not taken the bait.”

“Who?”

“Cipher Nine. Not the one Zhorrid likes to show off. The ‘true’ Cipher Nine, if there ever can be such a thing.”

“What are the odds that she’s involved, somehow?”

“Unknown. If she was, we wouldn’t find out about it, until she allowed us to. She…” Marr made a snap decision, since the Emperor was no longer around. “She was good enough that even the Emperor once sought her help with something.”

“What!?”

“Yes. He had an inkling as to the treat Devarath posed, long before Angral’s defeat. So, he set Nine on his tail. To learn everything there was to learn about him. Most of the files we have on him, come from her. Unfortunately, many of her findings were forwarded directly to the Lord Wrath… your predecessor, I mean. Come to think of it, I wonder if he was planning his betrayal, even back then. If he was protecting Devarath. The Emperor never managed to exploit any weaknesses Nine found.”

“Wow… I had no idea.”

“You are the only other person I’ve ever talked to, about this. I know, for I was there. I was her ‘cover.’” Marr snorted. “And her primary contact.”

“Interesting… well, I’m going to pray that she isn’t with the unseen enemy.”

“Yes. Ah, here comes Nox.”

The purple-skinned Twi’lek smiled. “Fancy meeting you here, Darth Marr! But not unwelcome. I was hoping to speak to you.” Darth Nox entered looking extremely carefree, though Marr could see the strain in his smile when he bowed to the master of the castle.

His colleague had a small entourage with him.

“Allow me to reintroduce everyone here,” Nox said. “Lord Minara Tennun, the new Darth Imperius.”

“Greetings, Tiarna, Darth Marr,” the Twi’lek woman curtseyed stiffly. “It’s my humble honor to meet two of the strongest pillars of Imperial power.” Like her superior, she was born a slave. But unlike him, she’d taken only the barest minimum level of effort in polishing her charm. Not that she wasn’t pleasant to be around. But only a fool looked down on someone merely for lacking courtly etiquette. It wasn’t her race that had caught Nox’s attention, after all. It was her inexhaustible ability to study.

“The pleasure’s all mine, old girl!” Kaimeryn said brightly.

“And this is her apprentice, Kariya Tolen.” Nox indicated the human girl, who looked quite nervous. “You already know my own apprentices, Ashara Zavros and Xalek. I’ve left Khem behind.”

“Perhaps you won’t return to a wrecked room, this time.”

“It’s past time, you got rid of him,” Marr grumbled. “That Dashade is barely under your control.”

“Well… he has his uses.”

“Sit down, all of you,” the Tiarna gestured. “The Nagai behind me is Ryuga. And this charming young girl, is Jaesa Willsaam. She’s my Apprentice. My pride and joy.”

The human couldn’t help but beam brightly at the introduction.

“So let’s get onto business, shall we?”

“Yes,” Darth Imperius spoke up. “We came here, to talk of Jabiim. I assume Lord Marr is here for the same purpose?”

“That’s right.”

“Reports have been chaotic at best, since most of our forces have been annihilated. Only scattered remnants have returned, after all. But here’s the little we have been able to piece together—”

She was interrupted right then by someone who burst into the Tiarna’s room from her other entrance. “Lady Kai! Sorry for barging in, but—oh!”

Marr growled. “Darth Scorn. Quite the entrance, I see.”

“You have to forgive him,” Kaimeryn said. “He’s a close friend of mine, now. He often comes to me when something really bad has happened.” She turned to him. “What’s the matter?”

“It—it’s Mirabelle. I haven’t heard from her in days. I’m growing worried.”

“Darth Travvor has disappeared?” Marr asked. This bore looking into; Travvor was a close friend of Darth Vowrawn, being his Apprentice’s Apprentice.

“Yes, Dark Lord. A group of friends had requested her help, on a world called Jabiim—”

“So she was on Jabiim, last you heard from her?” Marr sat up even straighter, as did Nox and Imperius. “How very interesting.”

“I—” Scorn looked at the Tiarna, who sighed.

“As it happens, we’re discussing Jabiim. Come on in. You might have relevant information for us.”

“Yes, Lady Kai.”

“Now. Imperius, please continue.”

“Right. As I was saying, not many escaped that debacle, and those few who did do not have much of a grasp on the larger picture. It seems Darth Anathel was sent a message that sent him into a right old frenzy. Something was found, there on Jabiim, something he wished to claim for himself before anyone else could.”

“He has craved my favor for months now,” Nox grumbled. “Hoping I’d take his side against his rival, Xarion.” He snorted. “I guess that’s unnecessary, now.”

“Whatever it was, it was enough to get Anathel to scramble everything he had. Every last one of his resources. Three Dreadnoughts, twelve cruisers. Enough to lay waste to a world like Jabiim, if he had enough time to destroy the defenses. He did not.”

“Indeed,” Marr growled. “I believe there was a large military exercise in session nearby, that very day. Overseen by two Council Masters, no less. In addition, Jedi Knight Kira Carsen was in the sector, on some errand or other. That’s Devarath’s former Apprentice and partner. She is one of the Order’s most skilled combatants, forged in the same fires that he was. She boarded Anathel’s flagship and crushed him like an ant. Not long after, more ships arrived to reinforce the defense. Anathel’s fleet was destroyed. Utterly.”

“It would help, if we knew why he was even there,” the Tiarna looked over at her friend, Scorn. “Anything to add?”

“I think so. Mirabelle has friends with the same interests as herself. Recently, one of these friends asked for her help with two jobs; retrieving something called the Eye of Noria Skald from Falleen, and the Mask of Nihilus from Jabiim.”

“The Eye of Noria Skald…” Marr was on his feet, alarmed out of his wits. “Did she get it? Do you have it?”

Scorn looked concerned. “No, Dark Lord. She was never near the Eye; she left that task to me and another group of her friends. It was destroyed by a third party.”

“What is this ‘Eye’?” Nox asked.

“Funny you should ask,” Marr turned to him. “It’s a divination tool which once belonged to your ancestor.”

“Do you mean Lord Alloysius Kallig?”

“To be more accurate, his companion, Noria Skald. The Emperor long sought to claim it for himself, only giving up on it in the early days of my tenure. To think, it was found after all these centuries, only to be lost. I will expect a longer report later. As will Darth Nox, I think.”

“Right. For now, we need to know about this ‘Mask of Nihilus.’”

“I don’t know anything about it, except that it lay in the tomb of a Jedi called Visas Marr.”

“I’ve heard of her,” Imperius said. “She was one of the Exile’s companions. A Miraluka. Before that, she was the slave and agent of a Sith called Nihilus.”

“What do we know about Nihilus?” Marr asked.

Nox was the one to answer. “That… creature, was like the Emperor on steroids. He could devour entire worlds like they were meals on a platter. But unlike our esteemed former monarch, he was a slave to his own hunger. He also burned through his own power rather quickly, requiring more sustenance than Vitiate ever did. Meaning, he was more bomb than Sith Lord.

“There’s more,” Scorn said. “Mira, in her last letter to me, she… she told me that she had come upon some more information, during her search. Nihilus’ hunger was so intense, that he consumed his own flesh. He bound his spirit to his raiment. For the latter years of his life, he was just a walking set of robes. The Mask may have been the heart of his astral body. It contained a trace of his old power to this day, which was why it was entombed in the Miraluka’s tomb. Her spirit had been keeping it in check, all these years.”

“Astonishing,” Nox said. “How accurate is this tale?”

“She trusted her source, so I would too.”

“It’s not the strangest thing to have ever happened,” Nox looked at the other Darths. “It makes sense that Anathel thought that bringing me such a prize would win my trust. But how did he find out about it? Who told him?”

No one had an answer.

“Who were these ‘friends’ of hers?” the Tiarna asked.

“I don’t know. She just gave me their names, and most of them—the ones I worked with—are dead. I don’t know whom she was working with on Jabiim.”

“Alright then,” Marr leaned in. “I think it’s time for a more in-depth retelling. Tell us everything you know. Perhaps there’s a name in there, which will give us additional insight into everything.”

“Yes, Dark Lord.”

*

Chapter Text

Bimmisaari

Lana knew something was wrong, the morning after they returned from their camping date.

She was feeling groggy and sluggish, and had the beginnings of a flu. By mid-morning, she had a migraine so massive, it was a torture to keep her eyes open. Ear-splitting chimes rattled through her skull, making her clench every muscle in her head until they felt ready to tear. She thought her teeth might snap under the pressure.

She had a high fever by noon, and needed a towel soaked in ice water to stay cool.

And then, the queasiness started. By late afternoon, she was puking her guts out.

I’ve never had the best immunity, she thought to herself forlornly. It’s a small miracle I didn’t have any issues these past months.

The doctor diagnosed her with an insect-borne virus, and told her wryly that she’d probably been bitten the very day of her arrival. There was no cure, except time. But at least, the disease was rarely lethal. He did give her some remedies for the symptoms, however. Not perfect, but at least she wasn’t in near-constant pain.

Her only comfort was Vajra. He stepped up quite readily, making himself available at all times. He held her hand during the worst of the headaches; took her to the fresher whenever she needed it; prepared and fed her her meals—garnished with a bittersweet herb that had an antiemetic effect; wiped her down when she was covered in sweat; changed her sheets for her; and made sure she took her medicine on time.

But best of all, he kept her spirits up. Their fledgling bond now kept a permanent link between their minds and hearts, almost like a freeway for impressions and emotions. Through it, she could constantly feel Vajra’s unconditional love and support. It was a joy for Lana to feel, a single but powerful ray of hope in her gloom.

“You don’t have to do this,” she told him weakly, her voice sounding hoarse and low in her ears, thanks to her sore throat and blocked nose. “You can take this opportunity to train. Or enjoy the sights.” She coughed, and Vajra gave her a sip of hot tea. The honey soothed her throat.

“Lana, even if we weren’t bonded like this—” he pressed on his side of the Force Bond “—I still couldn’t leave you while you were in such a state.”

“You’re too kind for your own good.”

“Only to those I care about—”

“Don’t give me that. You’ve been working in refugee resettlement for the past few years. And loving every minute of it, from what I can tell. This kind of care is what you’re best at. Second best,” she corrected herself. He’d kept up his combat training, taking part in regular military exercises, and even taking the occasional fight. This was why he was still one of the best in the galaxy.

“I suppose that’s true. But that doesn’t mean you aren’t special to me. I love you.”

“Don’t I know it,” Lana managed a laugh. She looked at him with as adoring a look as she could manage in her state. It was enough to make Vajra beam and kiss her cheek. “I suppose I’m just not used to being looked after. A Sith cannot show weakness. I’ve been so alone, most of my life.”

“You’re not alone, now. I’ve got your back.”

“And I can’t put in words, just how much I appreciate that.”

“Luckily, you don’t have to.”

Lana chuckled, and poured her gratitude through the Bond. Vajra shivered and smiled in response, his eyes closing as if it helped him experience it better.

I could get used to this. Too used to it. I prefer hearing his voice. I’ll need to remember to maintain a little distance. I need my air of mystery, after all.

“But… please tell me it wasn’t always like that,” he said. “Please tell me you had friends and loved ones, who looked out for you. It breaks my heart to think you were totally alone all this time, at least when you were in bad straits.”

“I did have a few people, yes. On Korriban, I—” she blushed intensely. “Promise, you won’t judge me.”

“I promise.”

“Acolytes on Korriban are put into batches. Many a time, there’s only one graduate, as the competition pits us against each other, violently. My time was supposed to be no different. When I set foot on Korriban, I was placed in a group with several ex-slaves, and a very rancorous Overseer named Harkun. Among my batchmates were Kagan, Bensyn, Alkiriel, and Lillia. I admit, I was a little snooty at first. But I saw how their determination and competence. Their courage too. I began to help them out. To teach them tricks they hadn’t learned yet. To protect them, while they grew. They appreciated my efforts, and we opened up to each other. We became friends. And eventually… we became lovers. All of us.” Lana turned her head away, feeling quite embarrassed. “I’m not a polygamist. I don’t normally pursue relationships with more than one person at a time. But Korriban was such... and my lovers too… it just happened. I treasure my time with them, but I don’t think it would’ve turned out that way in any other circumstance—”

Vajra hugged her. “Lana, it’s okay. You don’t have to feel embarrassed. I think I told you this, but my people are polygamous. It seemed like the most normal thing, in my early childhood. Not that I’m polygamous, either.”

She chuckled shakily. “Of course… in case you’re wondering, we didn’t do group sex. We just bonded as a team, spent a lot of time trying to keep each other happy and comfortable; but all intimacy was one-on-one. I was… I felt so happy. So secure. We were there for each other. That was one of only three or four periods in my life when I could sleep without worrying.”

“What happened to them?”

“They died. Alkiriel and Bensyn died in the trials. Kagan and Lillia were dead in their first month as Apprentices. Harkun sent me a letter, gloating that I’d changed nothing, in the end. That unworthy Apprentices would always feel the jaws of failure snapping around them eventually.” Her face tightened. “My words, not his. That cretin wasn’t capable of that kind of speech. How I wish I’d been the one to end his miserable existence. Alas, he made far too many enemies with his cheery demeanor.”

“Who got him?”

“Darth Nox did. Apparently, he was his Overseer too.”

“I’m so sorry, Lana.”

“Thank you. I still remember them all fondly, and mourned their passing. But what I felt for them wasn’t love. We ended things when we left Korriban, but promised to keep in touch. Over the years, I’ve often wonder how long we’d have managed to keep that promise, had fate been kinder.”

Vajra hugged her, and she leaned into his chest. She realized then, that a few tears had slipped out of her eyes without her realizing. Flustered at first, she admitted that she was glad to know that she still cared, all these years later.

Besides… I can be honest with Vajra. The realization left her with goosebumps. And a pleasure so profound, that Vajra stirred beside her. “I just realized how much I trust you,” she told him. “It’s complete.”

He grinned. “That’s great!”

It is. Oh, but it is.

“I hope this means, you’re never going to ask me to leave you when you’re sick, again?”

“I wouldn’t go that far. Shrana might arrive before I've recovered. One of us needs to observe her, during those first, crucial hours. The bare minimum, at least.”

“You’ll be fine, by then.”

Lana sniffed. “Here’s hoping.”

He touched her forehead. “Hang on. You need your towel changed.” He kissed her again. Lana felt all warm and cozy, despite the signs that her migraine was about to return, and perhaps another retching fit before that. But Vajra was looking after her, so she felt safe.

*

Dantooine

Aryn Leneer was enjoying a rare period alone with her husband, Zeerid Korr. Arra was out on a picnic with friends, but was due to return in an hour or so. While the ex-Jedi loved her step-daughter, she did sometimes wish that she and Zee had some time with the entire house to themselves.

They cuddled, kissed, talked dirty, and indulged the kinkier side of love. Zee was just discarding of the evidence when they heard the doorbell.

“Shit!”
“She’s almost twenty minutes early!”
“I’ll clean up here, you go downstairs.”
“Got it!”

Aryn hurriedly washed up and got dressed, running out to hopefully head Arra off before the girl ascended to the first floor. But it wasn’t her.

There, in their living room, was a pair of humans she’d never met before.

“Hello? I don’t think we’ve met.”

“Ah, Missus Adonis,” the tall woman turned to smile at her, and Aryn knew immediately who she was. “I’m Jasme, and this is Theron.”

“You can drop the pseudonym. You know exactly who I am, don’t you? And I know who you are. You’re Master Shan’s daughter, aren’t you? The resemblance is unmistakable.”

The woman beamed. “Thank you!”

“It wasn’t a compliment. Your mother and I didn’t part on the best of terms…” that was true, once. But after their sudden meeting, several years ago, she wondered if that was still true.

“I’m sorry. I hope I didn’t stir up bad memories. If it helps, you can think of us not as Master Satele’s kids, but Master Zho’s.”

“Kids?” Aryn looked at the man beside her. “Oh, that’s right… she had twins.”

“Hello, Miss Leneer,” Theron waved. “We’ve met before, though I don’t know if you remember.”

“We have? Oh, of course. That time I met Master Zho on Commenor.”

“Yeah. Umm. I kicked you.” Theron blushed. “In the stomach. I’m sorry.”

Aryn chuckled despite herself. “Apology accepted. You weren’t the first, or the last kid who was creeped out by my empathic abilities. I hope that’s all you came for.”

“Umm. No, actually. We’re sorry to disrupt your retirement.” Jasme looked like she really did regret intruding. Zee came down, his heartfelt greeting turning cold mid-syllable.

“Honey… mind introducing me to our guests?”

“Zeerid, these are Theron and Jasme.” Aryn turned to the pair. “I’ll give you fifteen minutes. Prove to me, your reason was good enough, or I’ll have to ask you to leave.”

“Thank you!” Jasme looked relieved. “That’s more than I expected, honestly. I don’t know how I’d have reacted, under the circumstances.”

“Time’s ticking,” Theron interrupted her. “We’re here because there might be danger, here on Dantooine.”

“Oh?” Aryn was alarmed. Nothing happened on Dantooine, now that the Jedi Enclave was gone. This quiet was one of the planet’s charms.

“What do you know about the attacks on Korriban and Tython?”

“Only the gist,” Aryn replied. Theron nodded, and launched into a quick explanation of everything that had happened. Aryn realized that fifteen minutes hadn’t been nearly enough, so Satele’s son had been forced to rush. It was quite hard to follow, with all of its twists and turns. By the end, she turned to see Zee blinking, his mouth agape.

The doors parted, and Arra burst in. She was energy itself, as always. “Hey dad! Hey mom!” She kissed her parents on their cheek. “I had fun on my—oh, who’s this?” The look she gave Theron was laden with interest.

“I’m Theron, this is Jasme—”

“And they just spun the most thrilling ball of yarn for us,” Zee finished. “Do you believe them?” He asked Aryn.

“They believe themselves. They believe Dantooine might be in danger.” She turned with a groan. “Okay, maybe fifteen minutes wasn’t enough. Take your time. Tell us everything, and why these ‘Revanites’ are here, on Dantooine.”

*

Midway through the story, Arra changed her mind. It was Jasme who seemed more attractive to her, now. The tall, willowy woman had an engaging way of storytelling, and was as animated as she was charming. Even Mom started to let her guard down with her, despite clearly having been nervous when Arra had walked in.

With my luck, she’s already taken. She snorted. What am I thinking? Most girls that hot are either taken, or uninterested.

Once their guests were done with their story, Mom asked Arra to keep them entertained while she and Dad discussed their next move.

Arra smiled awkwardly. Theron was equally stiff, but Jasme clapped her hands once. “Hey, I thought I saw this statue at the gate! It looked like some of you made it yourselves!”

“Yeah! All three of us did.”

“Can you show us? I only got a quick look coming in.”

“Of course! I’ll give you the whole tour, while we’re outside.”

“Wonderful!”

“Before we go out, can I see to your prosthetic?” Theron asked. “I can tell the alignment’s a bit off.”

Both women gaped at him.

“Oh, yes, please!” Arra smiled. “I’m amazed you could tell!”

“I got lucky,” Theron waved it off. Arra disconnected the leg at the joint, and passed it over to the man with the red jacket. He took a small collection of tools from his belt and began working at once.

Arra sat down and smiled at Jasme, who smiled back. “Either of you seeing anyone?” Arra asked, blushing a little.

“Eh. I have no idea,” Jasme admitted.

“Damn. Pretty girl like you shouldn’t have relationship problems.”

Jasme’s somewhat inelegant snort wasn’t unattractive. “Yeah!” she leapt onto her feet and cried, shaking a fist at the heavens. “Do you hear that, galaxy? This pretty girl demands romance! Passion! Love!” She sat back down. “What about you? You’re quite attractive yourself.”

“A lot of potentials tend to get turned off by the legs,” Arra admitted. “Dad said that it’s less of a problem on busier worlds, where they’re used to such things.”

“Yeah, war has made amputees of a lot of people. Besides, people just meet more kinds out there. Makes them open-minded.”

“Dad was considering leaving for me. He wanted the quiet life, when I was younger, but now that I’m an adult…”

“It’s a big galaxy out there.”

“Exactly. But I don’t want them to leave all this behind. Mom and Dad. They’re both good people, who got hurt in the war. They deserve their retirement.”

“Well, I don’t see the two as being mutually exclusive,” Theron piped up. “You can leave home. Make your own way. It’ll be scary at first, and there’s always the chance that things won’t work out. Galaxy is at war again, after all. There’s fighting in a lot of places, and crime rates are climbing. If you want to leave and wander the galaxy, the first thing you’ll need to learn is how to defend yourself.”

“What’s the second thing I need to learn?”

Jasme was the one to answer. “I’d say, cooking and foraging (AN: This isn’t a ‘women-belong-in-the-kitchen' thing, by the way. I strongly believe that cooking is a good skill for all adults to have, yet a lot of us don’t prioritize it, so a good employment opportunity). You’ll need to fill your own belly, and cooks are always in demand. You could even find work on a ship. It’s not the best-paying of jobs, however. Next thing is some basic survival skills. I’ve learned only recently, just how dangerous it is out here. Without my brother and Jakarro to watch my back, I’d have been in trouble.”

“Friends are good too,” Theron said in conclusion. “They’ll help you do what you can’t do alone.”

“I have some spacer friends,” Jasme said modestly. “I think I can contact some of them. See if they need an extra pair of hands. Of course, this is contingent on you and your family agreeing to it. It’s better not to rush things, so take a few years to get ready. The galaxy will always be out there.”

“I will. Thanks.”

“Here, try it now,” Theron said, returning with her leg. He connected it for her, then performed some spot-maintenance on the wires and cuff, which seemed to have gotten a few scratches.

“You’re such a useful man to have around,” Arra grinned. “Thank you.”

“Just so you know, he’s single,” Jasme confided. “Properly single, unless he’s still hiding stuff from his sister.”

“Is he, now? Maybe we can grab lunch sometime, just the two of us?”

Theron looked uncomfortable, but was spared answering by her parents’ return.

Just when things were getting good, Arra thought sadly. “Hey, Dad. I was having a chat with our guests here.”

“About what, Sweetie?”

“About your plans to leave with me. You and Mom deserve this nice, sweet place you’ve got set up here. I don’t want you to leave it all behind for me.”

“No, no, Love, it’s no trouble at all,” Mom protested.

But Arra ignored her. “So, I thought that I could leave on my own. Not right away, of course. Maybe… maybe you can help me get really good with some useful skills. Cooking, piloting, repairing, surviving… maybe I can leave in a couple of years. That way, I can see the galaxy without uprooting your lives.”

“I’ve got friends,” Jasme added. “I can connect her to some people. I’ve already got some people in mind; Captain Juniper, maybe. She’s a really nice young woman. A spacer, actually.”

Arra could see that her parents were agonizing over the decision, so she hugged them and said, “We don’t need to decide right away,” she said bracingly. “We can take our time with this. We’ve got other problems now.”

“Right,” Mom said. She scowled at the twins, who both winced. “We’re going to talk about these ‘Revanites.’”

Dad stroked her shoulder comfortingly. “Well, as it happened, Aryn and I did visit the Enclave a few times.”

“Me, more than him. We couldn’t risk something happening to both of us. Arra was still a child at the time. It’s a dangerous place. The ground is unstable, the walls are one good tremor away from collapsing, rogue droids and wild beasts roam the halls, and at least one reactor core meltdown occurred in there, leaving it an irradiated mess. It’s a wonder it hasn’t already crumbled.”

“Irradiated?” Arra’s voice was high-pitched.

Mom smiled at her. “Don’t worry. I used a hazmat suit. Anyway, I don’t think there’s anyone alive who has a full inventory of what was stored in that Enclave. It has a troubled history, and the contents it once guarded have been lost and rediscovered many times.”

“So, you have no idea what they might be looking for?”

Mom hesitated. “Well, I managed to catalogue a few dozen of the most secret databanks and relics. Several of which are Revan-era or older. Even better, I have schematics of the ruin and all of its tunnels and cave-ins. They’re a little old—I last went inside three years ago—but they should be a good starting point, at least.”

“It’s fantastic!” Jasme exclaimed excitedly. “It’s a lot more than we dared to hope for!”

“Glad you think so.”

“If Dantooine is really in danger, we can’t ignore it,” Dad said. “So we’re going with you.”

“Me too?” Arra said hopefully.

“Yes. You can be our getaway pilot, should things go wrong.”

“Oh.” Disappointment.

“Your adventures can wait a year or two,” Mom said kindly. “You said yourself, that you weren’t ready, right?”

“I know.”

“Now, it’s almost lunchtime, and we weren’t quite prepared for guests. Is either one of you good in the kitchen?”

“I am!” Jasme said immediately.

“Good,” Mom said. “Come with me, it’s my turn to cook today.”

“I’ll go too!” Arra said excitedly. She wasn’t a bad cook, but maybe she could start working to be an excellent one, from today. Maybe she could join the local trade schools too, to get better at fixing things.

The women left behind a very awkward pair of men behind.

*

Once the women had left, Zee stared down the other man. He had some reservations about this one. Unlike his sister, Theron was a shifty, secretive man. Unsurprising, given his occupation, but Zee had had way too many bad dealings with spies.

“So… Master Shan’s son, eh?”

“Yeah. We’re not close.”

“I’m not surprised. Aryn told me how she’d become a stickler for the code in her early thirties.”

“Yeah.”

“Your sister looks like her, but you…” Zee squinted. “You’ve got more of your dad in you. Malcom.”

“You know Malcom?”

“Oh, yes. I was in Havoc Squad too. I was their pilot.”

“Really?! Wow!”

“You not going to ask why I left?”

“I think I know, already. You have a wonderful daughter… but Aryn isn’t her mom.”

“That’s why I hate spies. They see way too much. In this case though, yeah. I lost her mother to a bad speeder accident. Almost lost her too.”

“Is that how she lost her legs? I heard a few creaks and saw her stumble a bit, so I did some maintenance for her.”

Zee was impressed. “Thanks for that. But yes. I admit, that made me a little overprotective of her.”

“I didn’t know that soldiers manage to acquire such high-grade prosthetics—”

“We don’t. I had to leave the military to look after her. Took some jobs I wasn’t proud of, but paid good money.”

“I’m sorry, Sir.”

“Don’t be. All those uncomfortable jobs got me where I am, today. It put me in Aryn’s path when she needed someone to get her to Coruscant, and it allowed me to buy not just those prosthetics, but this vineyard too. As bad as those times were, I have no regrets now.”

“That’s great!”

“So, what’s your story, other than the SIS and this… Order thing?”

“I… well, Jasme and I were both found too weak to become Jedi. I’d trained my whole childhood to get in, hoping to meet my mother and ask her why she abandoned us. Maybe get her to accept us. But I was turned away at the door. We both were. But Jasme took one look at the Archives, and begged to work there. She was so passionate about it that everyone was pleased to take her in. That made me feel…”

“I see.”

“In my defense, we were kids. Twelve years old.”

“You don’t have to tell me.”

“I spent the next few years running. I got in with some bad crowds too. But then, Master Zho found me again. He was my guardian, growing up. And my teacher. He helped me get my life back on track.”

“I’ve never heard of him.”

“I’d never heard of you. But you were your daughter’s whole world and more.”

Zeerid laughed. “True. So he was your whole world?”

“No, but close. He was the closest thing to a parent I ever had, growing up. We. He raised Jasme too. He died in the fight against a Darth named Mekhis.”

“Then he was a hero!”

“Yeah, he was. I just want to do right by him. And my sister, whom I stupidly abandoned.”

“What brought you back together? Please don’t say the Revanite threat.”

“Not… exactly? About five years ago, Revan kidnapped her. He thought she was Vajra, the guy who would go on to kill the Emperor.”

“Really? How’d he make that mistake?”

“Well, apparently, he heard stories of an up-and-coming Jedi named Vajra who’d escaped the Emperor’s clutches at a young age, and decided Jasme was Vajra. We’re his descendants, you see.”

“Oh. Right.”

“She was there when his mission failed, and was taken prisoner by the Empire. She was in the care of Tiarna Kairegane Rooks for many months. But I didn’t know that, for a long time. I thought she was dead. It tore me up inside, knowing how I’d treated her.”

“As it should. But you were kids.”

“I know.” The young man looked tortured. “I made a lot of mistakes when I was young, but the worst one was turning my back on her. I promised myself, that if she was found alive, I’d mend fences. Even if I had to beg. She welcomed me back with open arms.”

“She seems like a good girl.”

“The best.”

“So, what’s really your story?” Zeerid asked again, after a few minutes. “I wasn’t trained in Intelligence, but I know when someone has a secret stashed away somewhere.”

Theron’s eyes were sharp. “I guess I understand what you meant.”

“About what?”

“About why you hate spies.”

*

Chapter Text

The next weeks proved some of the most… ‘troublesome,’ that Lana had lived through in recent memory. Her newly minted bond with Vajra was a constant source of joy, and had the mischievous habit of amplifying and echoing their emotions... meaning they were both high on euphoria. All the time.

It took focus to stave off distraction. Or to ensure that they did not smile overmuch. Greater still, to maintain their alternate covers by not smiling at all. In addition, she needed to use a lot of make-up to hide how constantly flushed red her skin was. If only she was willing to use that holodisguise implant of hers to disguise her expressions... but no. She had sworn it off, along with all other remnants of her past.

It did her good to work on her poise anyway.

Worse than expressions had been thoughts. At all times of the day, she felt a need to be as physically close to her boyfriend as possible. She was happy to laugh at his weakest jokes, adjust his hair and clothes for him, walk close enough for their arms to touch, and stare at him unashamedly at every opportunity. He, of course, responded in kind.

And there were the times where her emotions turned to the horny side, where every nano micron of her being ached to rip off his clothes and have her way with him. To not leave a single spot on his face unkissed.

Vajra had been far, far worse, of course; and had finally resorted to wearing a mask all the time to hide his expression. He did have a spring in his already dancer-like step, but Lana had not the heart to tell him off. His head often swiveled in her direction, and he practically purred whenever she was within five feet of him. Which was most of the time.

It was cute, the rose-tinted love that many romantics dream of in their youth, which Lana had never thought she would feel it herself. Especially now, survivor of Sith power struggles and Imperial Intelligence as she was, she had thought herself above such naivete. But here she was, sighing like a schoolgirl.

This was why they had been forced to avoid their more ordinary disguises, and parade around as perky newlyweds most of the time, instead. It did give them some freedom to flirt, however, so there was an upside.

“I think that Bimm there is talking about new shipments,” Vajra murmured. He sounded like he was deliberately mistranslating. “Or maybe it’s a wedding invitation...”

“The latter, Darling.”

“Really? Dammit. I thought I could be helpful, at last.”

“You are helping, you’re keeping me in high spirits!”

“That’s me, the entertainment.” He switched to passable Bimmini. “I’m here till next Taungsday. Special rates for the beautiful Sith on Benduday.”

She laughed heartily. “It’s nice that you can even speak it, on top of being able to understand. From what you told me, you only started learning the language after Ilum.”

“That’s right. There were several Bimm refugee families in one of the camps. What’s your excuse for being able to speak?”

“Cheating, I’m afraid,” She tapped her forehead. “My implant is modified. Most language implants just allow us to understand languages, but mine lets me speak it as well. It’s more expensive, risky to install. But necessary, since I worked with Intelligence for many years. I often had to rub shoulders with all kinds of peoples, and didn’t have time to do it right.”

“I didn’t think you’d like skipping the hard work.”

“I didn’t, but I’m a pragmatist. Need outweighed preference. Every time. The implant allows me to access not only language, but nuances. Common phrases and their origins. Not as satisfactory as putting in the time, but bloody convenient. Still, I always did try the hard way when time allowed. With implants there’s always that chance of a malfunction or bug.”

 “I’m starting to feel a little left out. Even Jasme has a few implants.”

“We don’t know if it would work with your physiology,” Lana reminded him.

“It’s a little creepy, just how much you knew about me.”

She elbowed him fondly. “What can I say, Luv? You’re just that fascinating! I think even Darth Marr has read that report a dozen times. In fact... maybe I should give you a copy. You really should read it. It’s got a full psychological profile, history, observations, and recorded skills and sightings. It might give you a better insight into yourself. You being such a prominent Jedi, it is rather extensive. It probably has things you don’t know yourself.”

He nodded. “Who wrote that report? It was Cipher Nine, wasn’t it?”

For the first time, Lana realized she’d hit an adverse effect of the bond. She nodded hesitantly. “I’m, er, not supposed to know this... but yes. Partly, at least. It continued to find little updates long after she got tangled up with the Cabal. Listen… Cipher Nine is a highly classified subject. And umm... a bit personal.” Her voice was a little shaky at the end.

“Personal?” Vajra's eyes widened. “Did you kn—? No. I won’t ask you. You don’t have to share more than you want to.”

“Thank you. Ahhh, here we go,” Lana whispered. They stopped at a jeweler’s stall to listen to their quarry, who had stopped at the stall beside it. Shrana Kaprian was finally meeting her business partner, Kansym Talvi, so they were likely to begin talking about their current assignment.

Shrana had done little, since her arrival. Merely arranged for all of her cargo to be stored safely, and met up with friends and family; none of whom were involved with the Revanite plot on any level. Lana had not felt safe inspecting the cargo yet, so they were in wait-mode until they knew who the Revanites on this planet were.

“The last shipment is coming tomorrow night,” the Bimm woman said. “Aboard the Rum and Raisin. I am told that our client had to pay extra to get it here early. She wants it delivered to the embassy in three days’ time.”

“In time for the cultural exchange festival,” her partner whined.

“Aye.”

“I don’t like this, Shrana,” the male said uneasily. “Don’t you think there’s something a bit strange about this?”

“I do,” she admitted. “But the client is a great hero. She fought on Ilum and Corellia. She has done much for the Republic, but also for Bimmisaari. She has the Princess’s confidence. She has organized all of this as a surprise for her coronation. Iirjali has even got it approved of by the Head of Palace Security. Captain Jirishil will look over the cargo once it is taken inside anyway, just in case.”

“But if anything goes wrong...”

“We might be called as witnesses,” Shrana admitted. “Perhaps have to put up with weeks’ of inquiries and subpoenas. But the chances of that are slim, and we stand to gain much prestige as intermediaries if it goes off without any problems. Everyone will want to hire us! We will finally be able to expand and grow beyond this sector!”

“I suppose...”

“Would you look at this, Love?” Vajra grinned. He was holding up a beautiful necklace made of carved yellow seashells and pale green stones. “I think this will look good on you!”

Lana smiled. The eager Bimm shopkeeper offered them a bargain for it, which Vajra countered with a proposal for a few more pieces—earrings—which he claimed would go with the necklace. The Bimm was all smiles at the offer, and accepted the deal. Vajra paid them thirty-seven credits for the jewels, and Lana slipped them all on at once.

“What do you think?” she asked. “Do you have a mirror?” The Bimm held one up for her, and she nodded and gave Vajra a huge kiss. “You’ve got a wonderful eye, my Darling. And showering me with all these gifts! If you’re not careful, I’ll be one satisfied little wife.”

“And that’ll be the chorus to our song!” he kissed her back as he led her back into the crowd. “I caught that conversation,” he added in an undertone. “It’s coming tomorrow, and will be the centerpiece of the celebration in three days.”

“More importantly, we have a name,” Lana whispered back. “Shrana really was nothing more than a pawn. Iirjali... Iirjali...”

“If she was on Corellia and Ilum, it has to be Major Iirjali Asreggi. I heard about her from Kira, and she was a hero to the Bimm families I helped resettle. She protected the Supreme Commander’s bunker tenaciously when Malgus launched his plot. She was injured in the fighting; cut in the chest. To make it even worse, a comrade picked up a lightsaber and lost her head. They cut off Iirjali’s leg. She was honorably discharged and awarded several medals.”

“A Lightsaber... was it a Jedi? The comrade who panicked, I mean?”

“No, a Regular who picked up a downed Jedi’s weapon. Kira said they were good friends with Iirjali. One of Rans’ guards was forced to shoot them down, since they were posing a real threat.”

“It’s a sad story,” Lana sighed. “Do you think that would have been enough to turn her?”

“I don’t know,” Vajra admitted. “Perhaps there were other factors involved. Complications in her recovery. Perhaps the prosthetics were the worst quality available. Or maybe she got screwed over by the Senate’s bureaucracy. Got denied crucial funds. It’s an all-too common story.”

“That’s a story that would get her to hate the Republic, and she still hates the Empire. So... easy pickings for an option three.”

“Yes...”

They walked in silence for a bit. They turned a few alleys and ducked into an abandoned shed so that they could switch disguises. Neither one had Sensed eyes on them, but Lana was insistent on caution. “This holodisguise feels weird,” Vajra sighed.

“Yes, I don’t like them at all but hiding you is difficult, my eye-catching love.”

He laughed. “So, what’s our next step?”

“I’m going to call T7, ask him to dig up everything he can on Iirjali. In the meantime, I’ve already found her address. We can head back to the room, slip into a different disguise, and keep watch. We still don’t know what’s in the shipment. It could just as easily be a bribe as bombs. Or perhaps it’s a legitimate surprise. All I know is, that the Revanites are heavily interested in the ‘surprise.’ It came up multiple times in the comm chatter.”

“Do you think we’ll catch a break soon?” he asked her. “A real break? I feel we’re running out of time.”

“I hope so,” she sighed. “Sometimes all we have is hope. Hope that we can find out what the enemy is doing in time. And hope that we can stop it. Or at the very least, the plot is something that isn’t... too bad. The way Revan’s behaving, that last one borders on dangerously overoptimistic.”

“If it weren’t, I wouldn’t mind doing this forever. Just you and me, T7, and HK.”

She smiled. “Worried about what will come after?”

“Terrified.”

“As am I,” she rested her head on his shoulder. “But the present moment thrills me... sustains me. I know it is difficult, but do not be so absorbed by the future that you forget your girlfriend walking right beside you...”

He pulled her closer. For a moment she enjoyed the proximity. Then her thoughts turned to Celeste. Her then-fiancée had stormed out of her life after a hysterical declaration that Lana did not spend any time with her. That she did not value her enough to give her the time she needed. That they needed. And so, Celeste had left; and Lana had nursed a broken heart for the next few weeks. Because work had come first to her. Her hobbies and interests second. Love life, third. But here she was, neglecting everything to spend a few extra moments with her new boyfriend. Her Jedi boyfriend.

She realized with some sadness that unlike with Celeste, she did not expect this relationship to last. That one had been intended for a long commitment. This one wasn’t intended to be, and that prompted her to be more... present than she had been with a woman she had once decided to spend the rest of her life with. It pained her. Force Bond or no, she wanted to believe that Celeste had meant something deep to her. She had loved her. She still did.

“Are you alright, Wolf?”

“Thinking about how I should have practiced the whole ‘being present’ technique with my ex-fiancée. I’m starting to feel I really was nasty to her.”

“Celeste, right?” Vajra guessed. “Every time we get close to her your pain flares up. I can tell that you still love her. Deeply.”

“I failed her. And now she’s found someone else. I believe they’re due to be married in a few months.” Her voice sounded sad in her own ears.

“Shhhhh...” he rocked her in his arms. “It’s okay.”

“I know. I never did apologize to her. I will, as soon as I’m back home. I don’t know if that’ll make things right but...”

“But an apology is better than nothing?” Vajra suggested. “Because it shows that you care. Not just to the other person, but to yourself as well.”

“Yes... yes that sounds right. I love Celeste. But I love you more.” She leaned into his chest. “Please let me share my present with you.”

“I love you, Lana.”

She kissed his jaw. By unspoken consent, they stayed in the shed, still pressed against each other, for the next hour.

*

Almost Nightfall

Lana stalked the rooftops alongside Vajra. It was dusk, and the shadows were deepening. The distant skies turned a pinkish blue, rays from the setting sun spilling through clouds. Although it was still light out, the streets had already started to grow more vacant. It was common knowledge now, that there was a serial killer was stalking the streets, so the scared citizenry was clearing the streets early.

“Are you sure you don’t want to hunt for the serial killer instead?” She teased.

“If they just happen to ply their trade with me standing vigil, I’ll beat the daylights out of them. For now though, I’m enjoying the view.”

And he was. The sunset had stopped him mid-sentence while describing a prank his partner Kira had tried to pull on Master Kaedan. Lana had been a little displeased, robbed of a perfectly good laugh. But then she had turned and found the sunset remarkably pleasant too. The entire horizon was painted a warm orange. At first glance, you almost thought the distant trees were on fire, until you realized what you were really looking at. Once that happened, you couldn’t help but take in the many shades of amber, red, yellow, and brown that hung before the eye. “You know... this is one of those views that would be just as beautiful no matter who you’re sharing it with.”

“Maybe. But I’m still glad you’re here with me.”

“I will hear about that prank from you later, even if you’re dazed and gobsmacked.”

“The sun got in the way. I can’t block out the sun!”

“Spare me your excuses, little Jedi!”

“You’re right. You’re the only star I need.”

She laughed, but the gate they’d been observing opened up. A Bimm woman walked out alongside an Iridonian male. They were conversing in Zabraki.

Lana cursed. “How’s your Zabraki?”

“Rusty,” Vajra admitted. “Even Iridonians don’t speak it much, anymore. I haven’t met many who converse in it till now, so although I learned it when I was younger...”

“Same here,” Lana was annoyed. “My implant can only hold so many languages. Best we can do is record, and have HK translate... no, dammit. It’s too far. At this distance, whatever they’re doing to jam all eavesdropping tools is working well. I never imagined a Bimm speaking anything except Bimmini or Basic—”

“Hold on,” Vajra said. “She’s not a master either. Her sentences are choppy... and her partner is also speaking slowly to compensate.”

Lana listened in. “I’m still not catching most of it.”

“It’s mostly small talk right now, she’s talking about her kids... they’re waiting for her to begin apparently. The surprise is ready. They’ve been working on it for over three months, preparing for the party in three days... oh damn, that may or may not be doublespeak and I have no way to tell.”

“Well, since she’s speaking in a rare language...” Lana said.

“Good point.”

“Not to mention, she doesn’t have a family.”

“Oh, right.” He listened again. “Kaprian and Talvi are bringing in the last of the toys as we speak. But the family is already here, and... spread out? She’s taking him to one group now. I think she’s leading him to a... a go-down? Dammit I can’t hear any more, and they’ve crossed the road. If we jump across, we’ll attract attention.”

“Yes, maybe we should have stayed on ground level.” Lana quickly pulled out a map. “If they’re headed this way... maybe they’re going... here.”

She pointed out a place to Vajra, who nodded. “Follow me.”

He darted off in a direction parallel to their quarry with Lana in close pursuit. After three blocks, he looked down to make sure there was no one looking then slipped off roof, landing with more of a ‘fwoop’ than a thud. A part of her marveled at how much quieter Vajra was, softer and more silent than any spy she’d ever met. Almost a ghost, despite the disguise that hid his natural complexion.

How is it someone can be that wraith-like, and still be so terrible at spycraft? He could sneak around people, blend in with the environment and hunt animals. But blending in with people was difficult. Acting or keeping a low profile in plain sight were his main shortcomings. They reached another alley, one right outside the go-down—the warehouse—that Lana suspected they were about to enter.

“Damn. I was afraid of this.”

“What?”

“There’s no cover.”

*

Lana looked around in dissatisfaction. “We can’t just loiter around here, we’re too suspicious!”

“Didn’t I see you pack a street disguise?”

“Yes I did, but if we just happen to wait around aimlessly at the entrance they might take note of us. And if we stay too far back, we will miss things. Potentially crucial things.”

“I don’t get it, though? If we already have a disguise, what’s missing?”

“A reason to belong. Like... at a construction site, you might expect to see a bricklayer, or a carpenter. But not a fisherman or a farmer. We have no reason to hang around near a warehouse. I had hoped we could play mechanics, or electricians, but that won’t work, here. This place is too far from lights, wires, terminals, or anything else. And rooftop won’t work again, these ones are too high.”

“Well, it is a little dark,” Vajra said uncertainly.

“But it’s cramped and open. There’s nothing to hide behind.”

“Is there any reason we might want to be here? None at all?”

Lana gave it some thought. “Why would anyone want to be in a tight, dark, out of the way alley?”

The answer was so simple, that she wondered why she hadn’t realized it sooner.

*

Vajra struggled for breath as Lana kissed him like he had never been kissed before. It was a rough, almost violent kiss; a deep, animalistic passion he had seen but never himself experienced. He struggled to keep his extra pair of arms tucked behind him, overriding the muddled instinct to get all hands on deck.

She had discarded her jacket and unbuttoned her shirt, peeling it off to reveal her pale body, topless but for her forest-green bra. Her wig was disheveled and partially covered both their faces.

A fat, empty liquor bottle sat on the ground beside Lana’s jacket. He vaguely got the sense of someone approaching. A voice, Iirjali by the sound of it, chuckled and said something he didn’t quite catch. The Zabrak muttered something that sounded like a warning, but got laughed down. They walked to the door, a few footsteps to the right, and stepped inside. They spoke for a minute more at the doorway as Lana continued to take him through a land of deepest pleasure. By this time Lana had proceeded to pull his pants down, and straddled him in a way that would have left nothing to the imagination.

A few moments later they walked away, the Zabrak taking care to comment wryly. About Lana and him, he thought. A few more minutes passed before Lana finally eased up.

“I think they’re gone,” she panted.

“I... I... I...” Vajra gasped. He was dizzy. Lana’s beautiful face swam in front of his face. “Did you have to stop?”

She looked at him in surprise. “Here? You want our first time here and now?”

“Well, no! But since we did get started…”

She struggled not to laugh too loudly. “Well now you know how I felt when you stopped mid-sentence earlier.”

“So, we’re really gonna stop here, then!? Really?”

He thought it was his forlorn tone that set her off again. “We were working here, you know,” she tutted when she was in control again. “Did you even try to catch a word they said?”

“Well, no?”

She laughed yet again. Their little stunt had let loose her inner jester, it seemed. “Well, it’s a good thing I had my implant record all of that then.”

“What? I thought she was jamming—”

“Only at longer range. We were almost under their noses, here. But as much as I'd like to finish our little game here, we have work to do. Let’s finish up, then pick up where we left off back in the room, shall we?”

“You got it!”

*

Chapter Text

Warehouse on Bimmisaari

Lana picked the first of the primitive locks quite easily. She could Sense Vajra in the back of her head trying not to make too much out of it, but she knew that he had by now figured out that she had more than merely ‘worked with Intelligence.’

No, no, no! That wasn’t me! I am not her anymore!

Sadly, this airtight logic failed to hold back the guilt she felt out of the blue for keeping secrets from Vajra.

“You really don’t have to tell me,” he assured her. “There are things I’m not telling you either. A few morsels that even Cipher Nine wasn’t able to find out.”

She put up an obvious pretense at being curious while feeling guilty for a different reason. She more than half suspected at least one of the things he was keeping secret. Possibly his deepest secret; the extra Sense that she was certain he had, going by all the evidence.

There were seven locks, and if she wanted to leave no trace, she needed to do deft work; which was the only thing that slowed her down. But even so, she had all seven locks picked in five minutes. She opened the door slowly to avoid any creaking of the hinges.

“Quick, get inside.”

His eyes adjusted long before hers. “What in the hell is this?”

Lana stared at the contents of the warehouse, feeling equally confused. “Rodents, of some kind?”

That’s what they were. Cages and cages of them, rodents no longer than her index finger. Every one of them was sound asleep. Drugged, Lana thought, since she’d otherwise expect at least a few troublemakers in a population this vast.

“I think they’re all wearing some sort of vest,” Vajra said, stalking closer for a better look.

“Hold off, I’m running a scan.” Lana hit a switch on her wrist computer and waited for the results. “Species unknown, which isn’t the biggest shocker in the world. Anyway, we know the Revanites were into genetic engineering. And the xenobiology databanks aren’t extensive anyway. But... they’re being kept sedated... we can discuss this later. Hang on; I’ll scan every inch of this room.”

“And I’ll keep watch,” Vajra offered.

At the back of her mind, Lana felt his arousal. And hers too, actually. She was as eager as he was, to get this done quickly. Maybe they could take their time, the second time around.

*

When Vajra and Lana finally returned to their room, he dropped all his feeble attempts at pretense. He pushed her against the wall and resumed their high-voltage kiss with even more enthusiasm than he would a scrumptious feast that had been interrupted.

Her lips imparted a fire to his, that swept across his face and neck.

She broke off their kiss. “Wait a moment—” Her arms seized the device on his wrist and carelessly dropped it on the desk. She stared into his real face and grinned tightly. “This is the face I want to see tonight. Your face.” She rubbed a thumb across his cheek again, taking in his features more openly, and hungrily, than she’d ever done before. He felt a certain thrill to be looked at like this, and tried to return the scrutiny. “You… you are perfect!” she declared.

He cut her chortle short by fusing their mouths together again. She welcomed his tongue inside her mouth, a loud moan escaping her throat. Their kiss grew passionate again. She gave little throaty chuckles of satisfaction whenever he moved to kiss her cheeks and ear before returning his attention to where it really belonged.

And speaking of teeth, Lana wasn’t shy of using hers. She left little love bites all over his neck, shoulder, and even ear. She seemed to toss aside her inhibitions—or perhaps her façade—as the kiss continued. It was only then that Vajra realized that even in that alley, she’d been playing a part. But her true show of affection was deeper. More accepting. He felt as if she’d just thrown open the doors to her inner sanctum wide for him, as wide as they could go, and had set up a colorful, musical gala to boot.

Vajra felt like this was more than just a kiss; it was like they were both confiding in each other, a piece of their hearts. Like they were introducing themselves on the deepest, most intimate levels.

Vajra could always hear those songs, albeit not so clearly as a Lightsaber crystal’s. But this… the melody from Lana’s heart grew louder with every kiss. Both her song and his were changing tempo to match each other. Like their souls were getting attuned and synchronized.

This was an unrestrained acceptance of each other’s… well, everything.

He picked her into the air, raising her till her head was above his, still pressed against the wall. Her legs wrapped around his waist tightly, and her grip on the back of his head tightened.

With his free arms, he began exploring her body; running his fingers across the creases and folds of her clothes, trying to feel her body underneath. Each stroke made her shiver and squeal in his arms. She began stroking his jaw and neck with one of her thumbs. 

After a full seven minutes of almost nonstop kissing, Lana broke off with a loud gasp for air. Her arms pulled his head closer to her chest. “Do you hear that?” she asked. “That is the sound of my heart telling me that I have gone mad. And neither it, nor I care.”

“My gosh, I loved that! Why do you get the cool sweep-me-off-my-feet line?”

“Because you’re kind enough to know that I’d fall on my arse if I was the one swept off her feet.” She kissed his nose, then returned to kissing him.

She patted his back and nudged him towards her bed. He complied.

He dropped her on her back and she pulled off her scarf and jacket. This time, he could see her body clearly, as the lighting in the alleyway had been dim. “Like what you see?”

“Vividly.”

“Good; it's yours from now on!”

Vajra's eyes travelled over every millimeter of her exposed flesh. Lana’s body didn’t have the slim figures that supermodels liked to flash; nor the toned, muscular figures of athletes. It certainly wasn’t an actor or adult entertainer’s body either. It was more ordinary. Her breasts were fairly big but not large, and while she did have muscle on her exposed arms, chest, and belly, they were gently curvy and supple rather than firm and taut.

Several scars marked her pale skin. A gash on the right side of her stomach, a few healed burns on her chest, and a wide, deep cut on her collarbone. A smear of a burn mark on the inside of her left upper arm; a strike from a Lightsaber.

He bent down and kissed her belly first. His hands groped her thighs, squeezed her bottom, and fondled her breasts. Her moans were long and low, punctuated by gasps elicited by a harder squeeze. She shuddered in his arms; melted into them.

“You naughty boy! I knew you’re a knave!”

“You are an excellent judge of character, after all!”

“Come up here and kiss me again!”

He complied, planting tiny kisses on her breastbone, neck, and chin as he did. He allowed Lana to take the lead when she began to reassert control of her limbs. She rolled him over and began rapidly kissing his lips as she pulled off his clothes. 

He gently cupped her face in a pair of his hands; Lana’s cheeks felt so soft and pliant beneath his fingers…

Soon, the bed began to creak in loud protest. Vajra, unused to such a frantic pace, began to feel black creeping into his vision. In that moment, something blazed in the infinite yet small void across their bond. A feeling of oneness; like his soul really was fusing with Lana’s. The sensation brought new meaning to the amplification they’d been experiencing, as if their souls became exponentially stronger when it reverberated between their hearts. It was beyond his ability to comprehend, yet the rush of feeling made him feel so different. At its strongest level, the Bond completed him. Ascended him beyond a being as limited and weak as Vajra Devarath. His senses started to go dark.

*

Lana sagged against his limp body once she was done.

What was that sensation? She thought incredulously. It was like pleasure and love had been cranked up to one thousand. Like she’d briefly become a different person; someone neither Vajra, nor Lana. It had been beyond anything she’d ever felt. It was the Bond, she decided.

For many, many seconds, the only sound was delighted, low gasps.

“Hurray,” Lana mumbled. “You’re mine now.” She bit Vajra’s neck again. Harder, this time. There would be a mark, the next day. Shame, that his kind healed so quickly. She needed to give him a better reminder of herself. “There. I marked him. Ha-ha-ha!” She rested against his chest. “That was… that was… sublime.”

When Vajra didn’t answer, she frowned up at him.

“Knave?”

He was staring at the ceiling, his eyes out of focus.

“Knave? Vajra!” She began lightly slapping his face. When that didn’t work, she started to panic, but he stirred. “Oh, thank goodness! Are you alright? Should I get a medpack? Call an Emdee? Are you hurt anywhere? Did I do something wrong…?”

It was a few seconds before he answered, looking drained but amused. “You do realize… most people would feel proud when they made their partner pass out in bed, right?”

And it was another minute before Lana fell back on top of him, laughing.

“I think… I think I’m gonna drift off to sleep now,” Vajra mumbled. “Sorry for passing out…”

“Don’t worry. I had a wonderful time as well. You did well.”

“And you knocked me out.” He kissed her hair as she giggled. “This exchange was unequal. Better... next time.”

“A promise of a next time?” she kissed his breastbone. “I won’t let you forget it.”

*

An exhausted Lana snuggled against Vajra’s chest. She felt sleep on the edge of her vision. It would take her away on its cloudy voyage soon, but for now, she savored every moment of her first night with her lover.

This is why they call it ‘making love,’ I suppose, she reflected. It’s hot and sweet and noisy and messy. Completely lacking dignity. And if you do it with the wrong partner, you’ll regret it. Just like actual love.

With passion spent, she felt a different emotion deep within her breast; a feeling that made her feel like the blood in her veins had been replaced by gently hot khurg tea. Honey and lime flavored, of course. She giggled. She half expected steam to be blowing out of her ears.

She had never felt like this before. Never. She’d been in love, but this was the first time she’d felt like she’d fulfilled one of her life’s great missions.

She closed her eyes for a moment, relishing the hot smell of gratified accomplishment she was feeling. Turning her head lazily, she kissed Vajra’s chest. Desiring a bit more, she craned her neck and kissed his throat. She traced a line across his neck with a finger automatically. She could just barely feel the depression where his tattoo was broken. Caused by the skin healing following his suicide attempt. She kissed him again and brought her neck back to a resting position.

“Thank you for tonight, my Knave,” she whispered into his heart. “And thank you for every breath you’ve ever taken.”

She drifted off to sleep not long after, still feeling that giddy love that poets often wrote about.

*

Chapter Text

*

Lana woke up feeling groggy and sore. A small smudge of light painted the tops of the hedges outside their cottage. Birds were singing as they began their early days. And somewhere in the back of her mind, she felt Vajra’s contentment. “Dammit, did I oversleep?” she asked sleepily.

“No, you had just the right amount of rest.” Vajra kissed her temple. He had her in all four of his arms, still. Lana smiled inwardly, memories of their night flooding back. “Morning, my sunshine.”

“Hello to you too. Normally, you’re out training at this time of day.”

“I couldn’t. You were just sleeping there, looking so cute and cuddly—”

“I’m a Sith. I’m deadly.” She made that sound as sexy as she could.

“I know, you proved that last night.” He kissed her again. “You’re always showing me what heaven might look like. I love you, Lana. Not because of last night…”

“I know.” She hummed, rolling slightly in his arms. She pressed her forehead against the hollow of his throat. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For putting me above your training. I like waking up in your arms like this. I promise, I won’t abuse the privilege. I’ll wake up at my usual time again, from tomorrow.”

“You don’t have to. I’ll just change my schedule. It’s no big deal.”

“Hmmm. What should we have for breakfast?”

“I’m thinking sandwiches. With some of yesterday’s leftovers.”

“Hmm. That’ll give us some more time to linger, then.” Lana yawned, taking care to point the morning breath away from him. She rubbed one of his arms. “I get my best sleep in these arms. Like a princess in her feather bed. You relax me.”

“I hope that’s a good thing.”

“Unless Revan himself bursts through our door, it is.”

They were silent for the next ten minutes, watching the world get more orange as the sun rose. “I think I want to stay in here for the rest of the week. Is it too much to wish that the Revanites just turned up at our door and surrendered?”

“No. Shame on them. Ruining a perfectly lazy morning.”

“Too bad. We need to get our days started.”

Lana Felt a profound surprise through their Link, as she stood up. She turned to raise an eyebrow at him, the blanket still wrapped around her nude body. “What?” she asked curiously.

“You, standing there, in the rising sun…”

“You lovesick fool!” she laughed. “Out of bed now. Come on. No, wait. I get the fresher first, since I’m already awake. Don’t you fall asleep on me!”

“Right.” Vajra rose slowly. Her heart fluttered as she noticed that even such a simple motion seemed fluid and appealing when he did it.

Stupid man! Or am I the stupid one, for getting so worked up over such a thing…? Who cares! That sexy beguiler’s body is mine now.

*

Lana began talking business as soon as Vajra was done with the dishes.

“I trust you were listening to the recordings?”

“Yes. We missed quite a bit, so I don’t have context for that last exchange.”

“We did get a look at their inventory, however. Those rodents.”

“That’s just one part of their shipment. What’s the other?”

“We need to find out.”

“Shrana mentioned that Royal Guard yesterday.”

“Yes. Captain Jirishil. We need to observe him, too. He might be just an innocent dupe—a friend who trusts Iirjali without reserve. But it’s also possible that he’s a Revanite. I was thinking of tailing him today. He spends most of his time in the palace, or in the barracks. Sneaking around those kinds of places isn’t your forte. Stay close to the palace, in case I need your assistance.”

“I’d be happy to. Lots of places for sightseeing around the palace.”

“Good. Let’s leave around 08:00.”

“Done. You can bathe first, that’ll give me time for a quick workout.”

“Of course.” She leaned over and kissed him. “I’ll take my time in the bathtub, then.”

“See you soon.”

*

The Jedi Enclave,
Dantooine

It was quite a hot and sunny day, even for the middle of summer. The few clouds in the sky did nothing to provide any shade to the land below. It felt like the star was determined to bake the ground, to deprive it entirely of any hint of moisture. Most animals and birds had sought cover from the blaze, as had many of the farmers and laborers who were the backbone of Dantooine’s economy.

Not that anyone in Theron’s group knew; they were deep within the cave system that ran beneath the Enclave. They’d been in there since before dawn, slowly working their way through the caverns.

Aryn’s information was quite good; they rarely ran into anything down here, except for the least threatening of cave-dwelling creatures. Nor did they get lost. The ex-Jedi seemed to know exactly where she was going.

The only reason they were so slow, was the hazmat suits they were all wearing. They were great for protection against the radiation that lingered around the Enclave, but Theron wished they had a better way of carrying it until then. That may have been inconvenient when traveling, but if they happened to run into something they had to fight, they couldn’t put down the extra bulk for mobility.

Aryn didn’t share the same concerns, insisting that she could Sense deadly animals long before they detected the group. What was more, she was confident in her ability to deal with them non-violently. Theron supposed that was one of the perks of being an empath.

In fact, she was so sure of how minimal the risks were, that she didn’t hesitate to engage in enthusiastic conversation with Jasme, Jakarro, and D4. She’d travelled the galaxy in her time, and could relate to a lot of the Wookiee’s experiences.

One piece of information caught Theron’s attention.

“Wait a second, you’re from Balmorra?”

Aryn sounded rueful. “Well, it’s not like I have any fond memories of my home. I was orphaned early, and taken away before I had any memories of the place. I only visited once. My Master was one of several Jedi who were called in at the last second to push back the Dracogriffs. As his Padawan, I happened to be there when Sobrik fell.”

“Wait, you fought the Dracogriffs?” Jasme was clearly awed.

Aryn laughed. “Oh, no! No, I only fought their leader, once they’d let their guard down. And gotten pelted with enough munitions to disorient them. You see, I had been attached to a unit of assassins and elite soldiers given the task of knocking her force out of the fighting. They managed to destroy her small guard of Griffs and Mandos. I joined a few Jedi in the final fight against her.”

“You’re talking about Riy’avi Rooks, aren’t you? Tiarna Kairegane’s mother and predecessor?”

“That’s right. I struck the blow that killed her. I was there when she died. What a vicious bitch she was! Saw all the lives she took as a game of some sort. But there, at the end, I think she realized exactly what she’d been doing.”

“What do you mean?”

There was a pause, and Theron wished he could see Aryn’s expression. “Well… she tried to surrender to me. She wanted to go back to Kouhaush Muin. Told me it was her daughter’s birthday. I was pissed. I asked her just how many families she’d helped destroy, how many little girls couldn’t have birthdays because of her. She had no answer for me. Still, I’m a Jedi. I wasn’t going to let a prisoner die, once they were willing to surrender and accept terms. I tried to get my comrades to help her, but they laughed at me. Called me a child. I Sensed her regret when she died.”

“Was that how she died?” Theron snorted. “Tiarna Riy’avi is celebrated as a courageous, deadly woman, who spat at death in the face! Who died on her feet, unwilling to back down, no matter the odds—”

“Well, that reputation isn’t wrong. She fought the Jedi without a hint of fear. She only abandoned her… ‘pride’ when she realized she was dying. I think it took a different sort of courage for her to do that. She didn’t sound afraid of death, not quite. She was afraid for her daughter, who would grow up without her. Or indeed, without anyone.”

“She was right to be worried,” Jasme said. “That swine-loving, dung-maggot Angral heard about her death before even anyone on Kouhaush Muin did, and declared his intent to take her into his custody and marry her. His men were muscling in on her territory by the end of the day. It was only thanks to Hagan Subutarik, that she survived the next few months. From what Kira told me, he was downright evil to his wife, so little Kairegane would have been forced to endure an arduous captivity.”

“I feel for her, I do. But that was then. She’s grown up now, and seems to be the most dangerous Sith alive. And she’s rebuilt the Dracogriffs. They’re the single, greatest threat to the Republic.”

“Then it’s a good thing that she’s learned from her mother’s mistake. Not to mention, Subutarik’s. She refuses to commit more than ten thousand elites to the front. Most of her Legion protect her borders, and defend key Imperial worlds.”

“Good. Very good. But what was that about Subutarik’s mistake?”

“It’s a long story,” Theron interjected. “And it takes us back to Balmorra.”

Aryn turned, and Theron could see her smile. “I’ve got time.”

“Wise choice!” Theron grinned back. “You’re gonna love this!” He launched into the story of Balmorra’s liberation.

When he was done, Jasme gave him an apologetic stare. “You stink at telling stories.”

Theron felt an unexpected blow to his pride. “Hey!”

“But the story itself is quite interesting!” Aryn nodded. “I knew Balmorra had been liberated, of course. But I hadn’t heard that House Kaygir was struck such a lethal blow on that world. Not to mention… Malgus and Marr fought a single, young, tired Jedi… and lost?”

“Vajra did go on to beat the Emperor,” Jasme reminded her. “He’s a great warrior.”

Aryn shuddered. “There’s something I never expected to see in my lifetime. The Emperor dead! I remember Sensing it when it happened, but I still can’t believe it!”

“He didn’t escape unharmed though,” Jasme said sadly. “I fear for him. He’s been in a bad place for years now. At least he’s not in danger of Falling.”

“That’s good,” Aryn said fervently. “Vajra, eh? I remember Devel being torn up about his death. He thought he wasn’t the greatest Jedi, on account of his inner turmoil; but the nicest person.”

“Wow! I had no idea that Master Devel felt that strongly about him.”

“He’s a good man too. But very clumsy with feelings. He appreciated Vajra being so kind to his Apprentice.”

“Zahra. Poor girl.”

“What was she like?”

“Shy and nervous. But dutiful. She managed to take down one of the Marauders guarding Darth Lachris.”

“I see. It’s a shame that she died. What’s Devel’s new Padawan like?”

“Nadia Grell. She’s sincere and soft. Eager to please. And royalty, back on Sarkhai.”

“I hope you’re not planning on hooking me up with her,” Theron interjected.

Jasme thought about it for a moment, then shook her head. “I’m trying to get him with Arra at the moment.”

“Sorry. Not unless he sheds some of that eternal gloom.”

“I got you. Hear that, Theron? You need to lighten up, or you’ll never get a girl!”

“I wouldn’t go that far,” Aryn smiled. “Just Arra. He’s plenty cute, if you don’t mind an old woman telling you so. Almost made me wonder if I was secretly attracted to his Mom.”

Jakarro chuckled.

“Say, Zeerid told me he used to be in Havoc—”

“WHAT?” Jasme shrieked. “No way!”

“Did he know Jace very well? Or Satele?”

“Yes, and yes. Jace tried to help him when his wife died, but there was just too much going on. Satele had left the group by this time. He remembers both of them fondly, along with most of his former comrades.”

“What happened after his wife died?”

Aryn hesitated, but Theron said gently “He told me that he did jobs he wasn’t proud of.”

“That’s accurate, actually. Don’t ever tell her this, but there were few places which offered Zee the pay to match Arra’s medical bills. He wanted to buy her a good hoverchair. Maybe prosthetics, someday.”

“And he did.”

“It almost cost him his life. And the last of his values. But he was able to pull out of that life. Most people aren’t. Way too many people get involved with the wrong crowd for the right reasons, but can’t ever back out of it. Still, I imagine there are people out there who would be mighty displeased to know that he didn’t die on Coruscant.”

“Oh?”

“Yes. Zee didn’t resign from his second job. He managed to fake his death. There’s no one here on Dantooine, who knows his past. Here, he’s just another face. But it still took him years, to stop looking over his shoulder. Now, after all of these years, we’re starting to feel a little more confident that we won’t be found out.”

“I hope you don’t. You’ve both earned your quiet life.”

“Thank you. And thanks for giving Arra that peptalk. I hate to admit it, but it’s probably what’s best for her, in the long run. And for Zeerid, too.”

*

Khoonda

This small town had seen better days. It started off as the estate of an old, rich family, which had been killed in the aftermath of Malak’s bombing, three hundred years ago. After that, the local government that had risen up, and attempted to pull the pieces back together, had chosen this place as their headquarters.

Once Dantooine had been rebuilt, they’d shifted operations to Durang, the new capital. But Khoonda remained an important town for a host of reasons; its proximity to the Enclave, the fully-equipped landing pads, the thriving marketplace, and the infrastructure.

He was walking through the town with his hood up for shade against the unforgiving sun, looking for a good snack to take back to his hard workers, when he saw someone that made his blood run cold.

There, at the outskirts of the town, was a small band of merry toughs, dumping excavation supplies on a large speeder truck. There were nine other speeders around the truck, so this convoy was going to have about forty people in it. The leaders, form what he could tell, were a Chagrian and a Cathar.

But that wasn’t what had caught his attention. Thirty of the thugs wore bands around their upper arms that marked them as hired Exchange muscle. And their leader was a man he’d once known very well. His old handler, Oren.

*

The Enclave

Jasme felt a little dizzy after setting foot inside the Enclave. They’d exited the cave system and directly entered the Dantooine Jedi Library. This was once a place of learning and knowledge. Now, it was a forlorn, crumbling ruin. Many of the racks, shelves, and pillars had been crushed. Statues had crumbled, and faceless marble stared up at them as they walked past.

The floor was covered in ever-widening holes, and Jasme—the only one in the group who hadn’t yet trained her reflexes to be faster than a well-oiled trap—almost fell into several of these.

“Thanks,” she gasped at Aryn, who’d pulled her from yet another widening gap. “This is doing wonders for my self-esteem.”

“It’s alright,” Theron assured her. “Never forget, you’ll never beat me on embarrassing stories.”

Jasme laughed. “Right.”

“Translation?” Aryn asked.

“This Darth called Mekhis built several powerful weapons for the Empire, including a super-ship called the Ascendant Spear. I was tasked with sabotaging it.”

“No, you were not!”

“Nuance. Anyway. It got so hot, I had to shed a few layers. By the time I faced Darth Karrid, who commanded the ship, I was down to my underwear.”

Aryn chuckled politely. “I see you know how to make an impression. Just like your parents.”

“Wait, what?” Theron asked, looking shocked. “They did underwear things too? Oh, this I gotta hear!”

“Forget it. I shouldn’t have mentioned it. We’ve all done crazy things for our missions. Or made dumb mistakes. It’s wrong to judge or laugh. For instance. What are some of the dumb things that Vajra has done?”

“Well…” Theron looked over at Jasme, who looked away. She knew just how dark Vajra’s life had really been. His months as the fiend, Warpath. The fighting on Balmorra. His near-death experience on Tatooine. His decision to review the Power Guard procedure. His attempted suicide. She bit back a snort when she thought of his current relationship with Lana. Surely that classified as… no. She was hesitant to tell Theron about this, much less Aryn.

“I can’t think of anything dumb that he’s had to do,” Jasme admitted. “But he did have to resort to drastic measures. He had to wade through a sewer once. He swore it off. His olfactory is more sensitive than most humans’.”

“We’ve all traversed a sewer or two in our time,” Aryn chuckled. Theron snorted too.

“Vajra told me that he gets very snippy when afraid,” Jasme said. “He said that he taunted the Emperor so recklessly, that the thing accused him of having the unfortunate ability to dig his own grave with his tongue. It almost got him killed.”

“That does sound stupid.”

“How did he survive that?”

“He got extremely lucky the first time. The Emperor engaged him via a puppet, something called a Child of the Emperor. That made him significantly easier to beat. It also inoculated his mind to the Emperor’s particular brand of mind control. He wasn’t so lucky, the second time. He was taken prisoner and held for nearly a year. The third time was the charm.”

“Why was there a second time?” Aryn demanded.

“Braga. He thought that his idiot scheme to redeem the Emperor was the best idea anyone had ever had, and he wove too many webs around Vajra for him to escape.”

“I see. I had no idea Braga was such a fool.”

“He was! At least, in the end. He got what he deserved. He’s on menial labor duty now. Spends all his time trimming weeds and cleaning graves and statues. Master—I mean, my Mom decided that his best punishment was to repent for all the lives he destroyed, in his arrogance.”

“Why, though? The Council I know would’ve chosen to rehabilitate him, no matter the crimes.”

“I—I don’t know the full details. But from what I’ve been able to figure out, he turned the Council into… something like the Senate. He lied, cheated, threatened, and bullied them until they did what he wanted them to.”

“How awful!”

“Sorry to interrupt… but where do we begin?” Theron asked. He’d been looking around, searching for anything that was still functional.

<The Mighty Jakarro suggests placing low-yield detonite charges on anything not already destroyed!>

“No!” all three humans and the droid said at once.

“Might I remind you, that this will allow the Revanites to know we’re here?” D4 said worriedly. “They’ll know we’re out here!”

“We don’t have time or detonite enough to sabotage everything,” Theron said.

“The Council will hear about deliberate sabotage,” Aryn grunted. “That’s a serious crime. We don’t want them investigating us. And I don’t want Jedi coming within a hundred kilometers of where I live.”

“And I won’t destroy the knowledge that managed to survive several bombings and their aftermaths on the off-chance that one of them is what the Revanites are looking for,” Jasme said stubbornly.

“Jasme and I can catalogue everything,” Aryn said. “See what’s here, and make a note of their location. Jakarro and Theron can find out what the Revanites are up to, and what their main objective is. Maybe even thin their numbers.”

“Good plan,” Theron nodded. “Not airtight, but good.”

“That’s a lot more sensible!” D4 said relievedly.

<The Mighty Jakarro will revel in hunting his enemies!>

“Worst case scenario, we allow the Revanites to get what they want, then take it away from them.”

“There’s one thing we need to do, however. Theron, this way, please.” Aryn walked up to the exit on the other side. Catching her meaning, Theron restored power to the door with a portable cell, and unlocked it. Aryn had mentioned that she didn’t want to destroy the door unless she absolutely had to, since it gave looters easy access to the Enclave.

There was a surprise waiting on the other side.

Zeerid Korr looked livid; he burst in with a fury and grabbed Theron by the neck.

“ZEE!” Aryn said, trying to pull him off.

“Did you know?” Zeerid asked in a low growl. “Did you know that the Exchange was involved with—”

But that was as far as he got. Jakarro had reached him, and he pulled off the ageing human with all the power of a ferocious Wookiee. His guttural roar was loud enough to make the weak floor tremble. Jasme got in front of her brother, and shakily drew her Lightsaber and blaster.

“Easy!” Aryn said, getting between everybody. “Easy! Zee, take a deep breath, and tell us what happened.”

Zeerid seemed to grow a size smaller. “Oren. My handler from my smuggling days. He’s here, and he knows what I look like. I don’t think he saw me, but my cover is in danger.”

“The Exchange is here?” Theron sounded worried. “How many enforcers did they send?”

“I saw around thirty with Exchange badges. Maybe ten, without.”

“Forty enemies…” Theron was pale. “I can’t believe it. The Revanites aren’t taking any chances.”

“What are we going to do?”

“We continue as planned. Jakarro, you know what this means.”

<The Mighty Jakarro delights in the slaying of Exchange cowards!>

“We do so, quietly,” D4 insisted. “Pick em off. Like a hunter!”

“We need to keep you away from this Oren,” Theron said, looking at Zeerid. “I need to find the security center. See if we can monitor their progress. I noticed that this building is still connected to the power grid. Someone will notice, if we draw a bunch of power, but it should be okay if I only use my handheld computer and a bunch of cameras.”

“That’s an awful lot of trouble to keep me safe.”

“It’s our responsibility, since we got you involved. Besides, we need to learn what it is, that they’re looking for.”

“Right. I’m going to start cataloging.”

“I’ll help.”

*

Chapter Text

*

In a café outside the royal palace, Bimmisaari

Vajra was wearing his usual guise of Bedivere Knave. He sat in at a table right outside the café, and was sketching the palace. He was allowed to, he’d checked.

He still wasn’t anything better than an amateur artist, as he didn’t get as much time to practice this skill as he did others. But he wasn’t trying to create a piece worthy of Karldom’s Emporium, he was just relaxing. And perhaps, doing some low-level observation while he was at it. At all times, he paid attention to the Bond, so he could leave without delay in case something went wrong.

He Sensed little from Lana’s end. No surprise, no worry, no boredom, no annoyance. She was remarkably void of emotion, waiting patiently for her opportunities. She seemed more Jedi than he, sometimes.

After about an hour and a half, he Sensed awe and respect from the nearby patrons and employees. It was an effort not to turn and see what was going on. He only swung around in not-entirely-feigned surprise, when he heard someone clear their throat. He was sitting cross-legged on a carpet, so he was almost face-to-face with a pretty young Bimm woman in rich, blue silks. She had several guards around her, and wore a thick bracelet and necklace with moonstones embedded upon them. Only one family was allowed to wear moonstones on Bimmisaari.

“Princess Nissa!?” He bowed his head hurriedly.

“Rise, commoner,” she said. Her voice was high, like a trained soprano’s. “I have not laid eyes upon you before. Are you new here?”

“Yes, Your Highness! My name is Bedivere. I’m on vacation with my girlfriend, Penny.”

“Is she here too?” The princess looked around. Most of the other patrons were also Bimms.

“No, Your Highness. She wanted to do a little solo sightseeing for a while.”

“Really?” The Princess frowned. “My, my, but this most unacceptable!”

“Your Highness?”

“A couple’s duty is to each other,” she preached passionately. “When you promise your life to another, you are obligated to spend every waking moment together! To love and cherish each other, with every breath; to grace each other’s sight at every turn; to remain faithful by eliminating the very possibility of straying!”

“Princess,” one of her entourage looked at her pleadingly, but the princess ignored her.

“Fidelity is a virtue,” she said earnestly. “As is chastity… you haven’t sinned, have you?”

“Sinned?”

“You haven’t joined with your… girlfriend…?” she made the word sound like it had a repugnant taste. “That is for wedded couples only—”

“I beg you to stop, Your Highness,” the landlord appeared and wrung his hat in his hands. “In fact, I must insist!”

“You insist?” the Princess looked at him dangerously. “You? Don’t you know who I am—”

But before she could say anything further, the woman standing beside the royal pulled her hands away from her face and locked a vise grip on her wrist. “That’s quite enough disruption, for one day.”

“But Nanna—” the Princess protested, as she was dragged away.

“No buts! This man was just minding his own business, and you swooped in and began preaching…” her voice faded in the distance.

“We humbly apologize, my dear gentlebeings,” one of her guards said, who’d stayed behind. “And especially to you, good sir. Everyone here gets their bill settled by the palace. I hope you have a good stay here on our world.”

“What was that all about?” one of the humans nearby whispered, and a waiter answered in an undertone.

“Her dearest friend took his own life, after discovering that his betrothed had sought the company of other lovers. She was most displeased by it, and used her influence to destroy the cheater—and her lovers. They live confined to this world, and aren’t allowed to take any well-paying jobs. The unfaithful girl herself is tasked with overseeing the garden of silence—that’s the graveyard garden. The Princess became quite the fanatic after that incident.”

“I see,” Vajra said under his breath. He thought about the poor Bimm who took his own life. It made him feel sad. He touched his own throat, though the broken tattoo wasn’t visible through the disguise. He remembered what it was like, when he’d attempted to end his own life. The guilt, the pain, the conviction that life was only going to go further downhill…

Mercy, wherever you are, I hope you’re alright.

*

Meanwhile, within the Castle

Lana Beniko was cloaked, today. The Bimms were so short, that any disguise she chose would still stand out like a rancor among nerfs. There were some taller humanoids who worked in the palace, but they were too few, and went through a stringent vetting process. Replacing them took time, effort, and great care; none of which were easy on such short notice.

Perhaps she should’ve brought her backup, after all.

She shook off such thoughts and looked around carefully. The palace was built in the same style as the rest of the city, only, the paint was fresher, and the open spaces wider. The courtyard was quite massive, enough to host most of the city during a celebration. There were six pools in the center, rather than one big one, as many such buildings elsewhere in the galaxy. There were a lot of slender trees as well, which didn’t take up too much of the floor space.

Few lingered around the yard—mostly servants and gardeners. Most of the bustle was in the corridors. There were a few safeguards against conventional stealth field generators—hounds and droids with decloaking probes—which made her glad of her choice to leave her boyfriend behind; and gladder still, for her ability to use the Force Cloak.

Still, there was a lot of foot traffic in here. And the guards’ check points were a tight fit to get through. It took some careful acrobatics, of the sort that only one in ten billion people could manage in the galaxy.

She traversed the corridors of the barracks—which she deemed far too straightforward, considering that this was a royal residence—dodging the patrols and casting a cursory glance at all the décor. It took her less than an hour since her entry, to enter the Guard Captain’s quarters.

The man himself was sitting inside, smoking a cigarra and glancing down a report of some kind. The cup of caf in front of him was still hot, but wouldn’t remain so for much longer. Lana ascended to the rafters and waited for time to pass. Every now and then, he’d call for a servant or runner to pass along orders.

Lana made note of them, though nothing stood out.

Around lunchtime, he had a visitor. It was Iirjali, the lady herself.

“Ahhh, welcome to my humble abode, Major. I trust, you are well?”

“I am!” Iirjali smiled. “Though I’m no Major anymore. I’m retired now.”

“How’s the leg? And the chest?”

The Bimm woman’s smile faded. “The same. The Republic Senate still blocks my assistance request. They ask us to sacrifice everything, yet can’t even be bothered to thank us properly.”

“Idiots and fools.”

Lana was no longer surprised when citizens of the Republic openly voiced their discontent. It was permitted.

“What about you, Kett? What does the great Guard Captain of the ancient and noble house of Rycar say?”

“He says perhaps ‘ancient’ means its time has passed. The King is corrupt, and his daughter is…” the Captain trailed off. “But you know this. That is why you reached out to me. And why I agreed to help.”

“Yes. In just two days, the surprise will be unveiled.”

“So, all your preparations have been completed?”

“They have. The foul and diseased monarchy of Bimmisaari shall be swept away by the chaos that is to come.”

“Good. Here’s that book you were asking for,” the captain grinned. “The ‘Travels of Kett Kettleson the Mariner’.”

“Your namesake, eh?” Iirjali accepted the book with a smile. “I’ll be sure to return it, in two days. Goodbye, Guard Captain.”

Lana waited another hour before the Guard Captain went out for a break. She then quickly looked through his journals and files. She didn’t expect to find anything though. This man was bold enough to discuss treason under his liegelord’s very roof, but she didn’t know if he’d be so careless as to write down his crimes.

But she had to make sure—the Bimms were not as shrewd and cunning as others, like the Sith, Bothans, Dathomiri, Umbarans, or many humans. There was always the chance that this Captain would make slipups like these that most other races would avoid. Unfortunately, she had no luck. She ended the search early, so she could put everything back in its place before the Captain returned.

She didn’t have enough, but she knew the Captain was on the Revanites’ side. She planted a few bugs in the office before finally taking her leave.

I wonder what it was, that got him so disaffected. Perhaps I should look around. Maybe leave a few more bugs behind.

*

The Jedi Enclave, Dantooine

Ajik’s team crept along a corridor in the west wing. According to their schematics, this was once the quickest and most direct way to the library. There was little to fear, thanks to the low levels of radiation lingering in the air. While it wasn’t enough for instant death, a more lingering doom was still certain to any living being without a hazmat suit. Only the creatures called laigreks were truly immune to it, and they were a threat to most humanoids.

Ajik himself held the rear, while at the vanguard was the Rodian quickdraw, Eldoorni. Dorian and Parton held the flanks.

“Over here,” Parton said, approaching a terminal with a conduit. The indicator attached to the top said that it had power running through it. But the instant Parton tested the terminal, it exploded violently. Kilojoules of current trapped all four Exchange guns, killing them within moments.

*

Jevel and Floranna were the only ones small enough to try the ventilation systems even with the hazmat suits on. They got about halfway through, when a panel beside them exploded, rupturing both of their suits and allowing the toxic air accumulated in the vents fill their lungs. They were dead after several minutes of screaming and convulsing.

*

Verroq, Kili, and Oria fell to their deaths when the floor unexpectedly crumbled beneath their feet, as were Divin and Nasha.

*

A cave-in forced Paji, Istin, and Pedra to try an underground passage which led them straight into a Voritor lizard nest.

The mother was grateful for the free meal.

*

The Hammon triplets and their wife walked right into a hive of angry laigreks. The insects tore their armor off of them, one bite at a time, before proceeding to eat them from the toes up.

Screams echoed throughout the halls.

*

At the entrance

Casper Strider thought that the cool evening breeze was pleasant, after the scorcher that was the afternoon. He stood just beyond the dry fountain in the compound, ringed by three of his guards.

“We’re losing the help faster than we’d anticipated,” Javic Palinom moaned.

Casper looked at him and shrugged. “Obai did say that this ruin was a deathtrap.”

“There’s a difference between a natural deathtrap, and an artificial one,” Javic pointed out. “And our team entered at 17:32. It’s now 18:46. We’ve already lost sixteen of our team. This is too many, all at once. We’re facing an enemy, here.”

Casper sighed. Javic had been his friend for years now, since they’d joined the Order together. Javi had been a gladiator before his days, while Casper had been part of an elite mercenary unit called the Talbot Regiment. Both of them had strong survival instincts, but Javic was more used to his dangers announcing themselves openly. He didn’t do well against a hidden one.

“It’s possible,” Casper patted the short Cathar’s head. “But remember; those aren’t sixteen deaths. They’re five mishaps along five very different routes. One of those entered a laigrek’s hive, and another found lizards. There is no way, that any enemy planned for that. It’s still within acceptable parameters. I do share your concerns, but I’m still not too worried.”

“When will you be worried?”

“When we’re heading in there ourselves.”

“Hrrrr…” the ex-Gladiator growled, as he did when he was nervous or frustrated. “Why is it the Master wants these journals so bad? Who or what even are these Naga Shadow, Mark Ragnosa, Ludo Kressh, or…”

“I don’t know. The Master says he hopes to find something there. You know what they say: knowledge of powerful artifacts is power. That kind of thing.”

“Those journals are over a thousand years old.”

“Doesn’t mean they’re outdated. Sometimes, useful knowledge is lost.”

“That there is sense,” Javic bared his fangs. “The Master is as wise as he is strong.”

“Yes. That is why he will win. Why we will win. Now help me get a fire going. The survivors deserve my world-famous gumbo as a reward!”

“I’ll hunt us some Kath Hounds. I saw a few, living close by.”

“That’s the spirit! Take your guards with you. I still don’t think it’s likely that we have enemies, but no sense in being unprepared.”

*

Theron Shan sat back in the dilapidated chair to think. Zee had gotten used to manipulating the power grid rather well. Five groups, all dead. At this rate, the Revanites might get spooked off for a while, which meant more time for his team to find their prize before they could.

And now he had reason for a minor celebration. He felt silly proud of himself for bugging a few locations, including that fountain. It was sentient nature to set up shop near a recognizable landmark, and the fountain was the most iconic one. And just outside the toxic zone. His hunch had proven true. He loved it when that happened.

“Hold down the fort a bit, would you, Zee?”

“Sure. In fact, maybe we should wind up for the day. The opposition seems to have given up.”

“Good idea.”

“So, what have you found out? I know you’ve found something; you’re looking as pleased as Arra, the first time she ran again.”

“We know what the Revanites are after. That should make Jasme’s job a lot easier.”

*

Chapter Text

*

Right outside the Archive back entrance, Dantooine

Jasme didn’t need long to cotton onto what Theron had found out. “So, to sum it up: we need to find these journals.”

“Pretty much.”

“Why?” Aryn wondered. “What could be so important, that they’d want those old journals?”

“Good question. Maybe the location of something he wants, lies in those pages. But what could it be?”

“I don’t want to find out,” Theron said. “The Revanites have been quite bent on building up an army. From what I recall, Ragnos was a genius at playing his rivals against each other, and he and Sadow were both talented war masters. Maybe one of them built something that could be used as a tool of conquest.”

“From what I know of those three, that’s accurate,” Jasme sighed.

“So we gotta keep the journals away from them. No problem.”

“Unfortunately, I’ve no idea where they stored things like preserved journals,” Aryn sighed.

“Me neither,” Jasme admitted. “I can try to connect to the Archives, but this sort of information wouldn’t be easily accessible. If I use my clearance, people like Master Gnost will know.”

“Maybe we can ask someone to look into it for us?”

“The only ones in the know have got eyes on them too, by now.”

“So, it’s a last resort, then.”

“What do we do, in the meantime?”

“We continue thinning the pack.”

“Hopefully that bastard Oren goes down before he sees me,” Zee grunted.

“Maybe the Revanites know where to look. D4 can keep eyes on them. If they find it first, Jakarro can move to intercept.”

<The Mighty Jakarro accepts!>

“Good, good. Now come on. Let’s get some shut-eye. We need to get back inside before the Revanites do.”

*

Bimmisaari

Vajra took over all chores for the day as Lana reviewed all of the data she and T7 had gathered.

He made something extra special today, to show his appreciation to Lana—cheesy bwari potatoes, asaari mushroom, and Bimma finger corn with herbed rice. With spiced-and-iced buttermilk. And Bimm sweet dumplings, for dessert.

The cooking spices began to seed the air with their fragrant aromas, which was in carried out into the drawing room by the gentle breeze wafting in through the window. Lana poked in her head. Vajra’s heart skipped a beat or twenty from the cute, hopeful expression on her face, and the way her hair hung down her tilted face.

“What’s that?” she asked, slurping her lips.

“Kiss the chef, and see for yourself,” he invited.

With a wide smile, she swept along to his left and pecked his cheek. She stared at the pot with the bubbling main course and patted Vajra’s shoulder. “I approve. Seven Beniko stars!”

“Wow! Just what I always wanted!”

“It’s high praise. Nine is the best my parents hand out, and there are only three such chefs in the Empire. All work for my parents.” She tasted the main course. “I hope I get to introduce you to them someday… or reintroduce you.”

“How’s the decoding going?”

“Quite well,” Lana said. “A little disturbing. T7 scanned all of Kaprian and Talvi Shipping corp’s manifests, then investigated the cargo in person. He confirmed that along with items expected for parties, like banners and fireworks, they were also bringing in—smuggling in, to be more precise—crates of chemicals. On their own, harmless chemicals. But what I’m researching what concoctions those chemicals could be used to make.”

“So, they might be used to make chemical weapons?”

“I think that’s most likely.”

Vajra shuddered. He took the pot off the heat and opened the rice cooker. He nodded. They were ready. “How do the rodents figure into this?”

“Carriers. That’s the most obvious use I’d find.”

“Any idea how they’ve been modified?”

“They don’t feel pain, for one. No matter what you do. Ideal for something carrying a chemical weapon, as it will continue to scurry away from the site long after most other creatures would’ve collapsed from the pain. For another, they’re much more agile. Faster. I’d imagine that was to reduce the likelihood of them getting caught or killed prematurely.”

“Do they have any innate resistances? Not like immunity, but a limited resistance. Like mine.”

“Interesting idea.” Lana scratched her nose. She turned her face a little and sneezed a few times. “Excuse me.”

“Bless you.”

“Thanks. Like I was saying. That bears looking into. T7 and HK?” she called out into the room. “Check it out for us, will you?”

“Acknowledged.”

<Acknowledged.>

“Now, come on. It looks like the food’s all ready. I want to finish before the neighbors come in for a bite.”

They dug in at once. Lana clearly had to assert every gram of her self-control to not just bury her face in her bowl and eat like an excited puppy. It made Vajra happy; he wasn’t normally this good a cook, and had tried extra hard today—which was why it had taken him this long. Lana would’ve been done in a quarter the time.

Lana swallowed a mouthful and scowled at him. “Did you just think of me like you would a puppy?”

“You can read my mind now? Wow, our Bond is growing stronger—Lana, you’re looking at me funny…”

“When I’m done with you tonight, you won’t know up from down. You’ll be so drained, you’ll take a year to stand up. And another year before you can walk properly!”

Vajra swallowed a lump in his throat. “And, um… will you be happy, putting me out of commission for two years?”

She giggled. “I suppose not. Damn, I hope we get two years. I hope we get forty! Especially if you keep bribing me with dishes like these!”

“You’re being too kind. You’re an eight Beniko stars chef at least, right?”

“I think so,” she confirmed. “But it’s really something to have someone else cook for me. Especially you.”

Vajra kissed her, aiming for her luscious, gravy-covered lips. “You make me want to be better at everything.”

Lana blinked. “Is this your strategy to overwhelm me, my knave? Feed me a scrumptious meal, kiss me out of nowhere, then tell me you love me? It won’t work." She pretended to swoon against his chest, moaning theatrically. Despite her act, she didn’t stop eating.

Vajra laughed.

When they were nearly done, T7 piped up again.

<Jedi Vajra! Sith Lord Beniko! Terrible news!>

“What is it?”

<T7 = finished decoding Revanite logs. Plan = spread chaos throughout the galaxy! Method = wanton terrorist attacks!>

“WHAT!?” Vajra bellowed. “But why!? How?” He turned to Lana. “How can we stop these attacks!?”

“Don’t panic. T7, tell me everything you’ve discovered.”

*

Rishi Base

Nights on Rishi were beautiful. A little bright for Jerre’s liking, on account of the dwarf galaxy hanging in the sky. But despite having been here for a year, he still took twilight walks to the nearby hillock to see the horizon bathed in the ghostly starlight.

He returned to the Base to find the Master standing at the podium, as he always did. Did the man never tire? He supposed not. “Ah, Jerre! You’re just in time. We’ve received reports from all of our bomb teams. They’re ready to start carrying out their plans.”

Jerre shuddered. The bomb teams. “Tha’s good t’ hear.” He hesitated a few minutes before going on. “Wha’s this all about? Why are we bombin’ civilian targets?”

“All of our actions are for one purpose. Peace. But we can’t have peace until the source of the war is gone.”

What has that got to do with—

“The bombs are intended to cause chaos throughout the galaxy, in places where I believe the enemy is hiding. It thrives on death and mayhem. Is drawn to it, like flies to manure. If we can find out where he is, we can isolate it. Trap it. And kill it.”

“And izzat worth killin hundrids uf people?”

“Their sacrifice will allow us to defeat a far greater evil. They would understand, if they hadn’t been made such slaves to fear.”

“Ah don’t like this.”

“Neither do I. But you have to break a few eggs to make an omelet. Stay the course with me, Jerre. If we can accomplish our goal, we will usher in a thousand years of peace.”

“O’ course.” But Jerre couldn’t help but feel guilty. This time next week, thousands would be dead. Perhaps tens of thousands. People with families, who would mourn their passing. People who might have been running their whole lives, only to find another disaster threaten their shaky sense of security. Or people who thought their worlds were far from the war, only to find its effect blossom in their backyard. What was he doing here?

Had he become what he hated? In his desire to exorcise the phantoms of war from the galaxy, had he become a source? He hated himself. He was starting to sympathize with Juun’s vice more and more.

*

Late Afternoon,
The Enclave, Dantooine

Jasme was lucky she didn’t wake up with a scream. Tired from all the searching, she’d just sat down to rest her eyes a bit. Next thing she knew, there was someone in the room. And not one of hers.

How did she know? Well, her team had accepted her entreaty to be gentle with the surviving items. Whoever this person was, they were carelessly smacking aside vases, data cubes, shelves, cases, and even Holocrons.

Jasme—unnoticed for the moment, since she’d been napping in a particularly dark corner—took a few seconds to shake off the stunned disbelief.

With a pained cry, she charged at whoever it was that dared to defile something she cared deeply about. Caught like a kybuck in the headlights, they stood no chance of evading her reckless shoulder charge.

She slammed into the enemy, knocking them against a pillar on the other end. As they bounced off, she threw him over her shoulder and slammed him onto the floor. She leapt on top of him and began throwing punch after punch at their face, but her enemy’s instincts seemed to kick back in.

Her fists were parried or blocked with expert precision. When he finally got his bearings back, he kicked her off him. She rolled to reduce the impact, but he was on her in a flash.

With horror, she realized two things.

The first: she completely forgot about her weapons.

The second: her enemy hadn’t forgotten theirs. He’d pulled out a thick-bladed dagger and rushed at her. In a blind panic, she tried to recall her own basic combat training despite being woefully aware that she was out of her depth.

“I’M GONNA HAVE YOUR HIDE, LITTLE GIRL!”

“Who’s ‘little,’ you barbaric vandal of a pint-sized shrimp?” she sneered, after miraculously blocking the first three passes. She’d drawn her vibroblade with rather more fluidity than she could’ve hoped for.

The Cathar leered at her. “You will be, when I cut you down to size.” This had to be Javic Palinom, the ex-Gladiator.

Boy, was she in for it now!

Listen, she heard Vajra’s voice in the back of her mind. The crystal on her wrist—a gift from Vajra, along with the basics of his peculiar school of Lightsaber combat—sang for her, and she attempted to rearrange herself in preparation to dance to whatever tune it had for her.

The Cathar charged again. Jasme fought back, doing better than she’d been reasonably expecting. She smacked aside the blade in tune with her crystal’s song, and tried to attack with her own.

Unfortunately, her timing was off the first few times, which gave him a chance to reevaluate her. “Looks like this bird’s talon isn’t just for show! Not to worry, lil birdie. I know just how to clip your wings.”

He began a more sequenced attack kata; a rapid string of jabs and thrusts mixed with blocks and parries. Her windows of opportunity grew ever so small, far too small for her to exploit, and she was thrown in a defensive battle. She grew so afraid to attack in the lulls, aware that he was capable of easily evading her attack and forcing her to overextend. Perhaps even disarming her.

If only I had my Lightsaber. No. Vajra had strictly told her not to use it in live combat until he himself had cleared her for it. It was just as capable of hurting her, as her enemy. And she’d shown a really bad inability to keep a cool head. She had to settle this with the weapons she had on hand. And that meant only her dagger.

The Cathar found a weakness and attacked. Jasme was a millisecond too slow, and was forced to defend her torso with her left hand. She howled in pain when the dagger buried itself deep in her shoulder.

“How does that feel, you stupid slut?” Palinom growled. “Maybe you should’ve dropped that stick, and begged me to put a different kind of dagger in you!”

But he’d stopped to gloat too long. Jasme attacked with her own dagger, slamming it deep into his neck. The Cathar looked stunned. Blood spurted out of his mouth, covering the glass of his visor, which had cracked from the impact on the pillar.

Jasme felt no sense of triumph, only a deep ache in her soul. She’d actually done it. She’d killed someone. She’d ended someone’s life—taken away all possibilities out of his story. No more would he influence the galaxy, for better or worse. Never again would he visit his children, if he had any. Others might not even be born, who may have gone onto do great things. He had eaten his last meal, seen his last sunset, without even realizing it.

He was gone, because of her. Death was the end. She’d heard that line before, scoffed at such a basic idea. But she finally understood what it really meant. And she finally understood the pain her younger brother had felt, that first day on Tython. Or every single day since.

How was she supposed to live with herself, knowing what she’d just done?

“Jasme? Jasme!” Aryn’s voice called as she burst into the room. “I heard a scream, and you weren’t answering your comm—oh!”

“Aryn!”

“Don’t try to move. You’ve got a knife in your shoulder, you’re bleeding out, and your suit has been compromised.”

“I killed him. I killed him!”

“I know.” Arryn patted her back. “I’m sorry.”

“What do I do? How can I—how can I—”

“Easy there, Jasme. Heal first, cope later.” Jasme could see the woman was reaching for the Force. “Sleep.”

And just like a switch had been turned, Jasme felt her eyes close tight, and her senses fade away until she could neither see, hear, or smell.

*

Zeerid Korr didn’t know what had gotten into him. He should’ve done as Theron had suggested, and use the barely functioning security system to keep the Exchange—but especially Oren—at a safe distance away from himself.

But he’d chosen to try and end things, rather than err on the side of caution. He told himself that this wouldn’t be the first time he was about to kill in order to protect his family—recalling that Imperial ex-sniper he’d deep-spaced on Coruscant.

Oren was the only Exchange officer who knew what Zeerid looked like, so he had to go.

And so, here he was, navigating corridors right close to where the Exchange had set up their temporary base.

He heard a woman talking as he drew closer.

“Radiation levels were well below concerning in this section, which had been sealed during the blasts,” the woman was saying. “Not to mention, how well-built it is. Unfortunately, the same shielding also makes it bad for comms.”

“There’s too much interference around here,” said a voice he recognized as Oren’s. “Our cheap comms weren’t calibrated for this place.”

“What’s wrong with Dantooine?”

“Not Dantooine, just the Enclave—”

Bad comms? This was Zee’s chance! He recklessly leapt into the room, guns blazing. One blast took a Gamorrean bodyguard, the second the woman who’d been speaking. The third struck a Weequay, and the fifth the final bodyguard in the room—a Trandoshan.

He continued to fire at the Exchange officer, who took cover behind a pillar. “You can’t stay hidden forever!” Zeerid roared, his voice a few octaves higher than it normally was. “Come out and face me! Be a man, for once in your life!”

“You first, scum.” Oren rolled out from behind cover, but Zee was ready for him.

They both fired at once. Zeerid’s shot struck the boss in the shoulder, but the return shot went wide. It hit the wall behind him, destroying the wall panel. At once, the lights went out and the doors slammed shut, leaving them in the dark.

Zeerid made a mistake then, and fired twice, aiming for where Oren had landed. This mistake lit him up like a Life Day tree for a brief instant, and the other man capitalized. He fired back, and hit Zeerid’s blaster right out of his hand. He fired his second shot at Zeerid’s chest—right below his throat, this time aiming for the source of the sound.

Zeerid fell, hit by a stun bolt. He felt really stupid and enraged as his central nervous system shut down.

His last thought was Fuck, how that backfired!

*

Chapter Text

*

Dantooine

Aryn Leneer began treating Jasme as soon as she’d pulled her out of the Enclave’s back entrance.

Jasme was very lucky. Not only were the radiation levels unlikely to cause long-term harm from such brief exposure, they’d carried medicine to treat radiation poisoning, just in case. She’d be fine with just a few days of rest. More worrying was the wound on her shoulder. The knife had sliced through one of her muscles and lodged itself in her bone. Kolto and Jedi Healing techniques were sufficient to close the wounds, but attempting to knit the muscle back together without equipment, came with the risk of doing so wrongly.

Aryn had to work off instinct and focus. But that resolution was dashed when Theron brought in the second bad news of the day.

“What do you mean Zee’s missing?” Aryn demanded.

“I don’t know. I left to fix a malfunction. I wasn’t gone five minutes. When I got back…”

<The Mighty Jakarro did not notice any signs of struggle,> Jakarro rumbled. <No carbon scoring, no signs of ionized gas, no drag marks on the floor.>

“Zeerid must’ve gone looking for Oren,” Aryn concluded.

“Right. Luckily, we know exactly where he is.”

“I’ll go after him.”

“But—”

“I may be a bit rusty, but I can handle a few Exchange guns.”

“But what about Jasme? You’re the only one who can heal her right now!”

“Are you telling me to abandon my husband?”

“Of course not! I’m telling you to leave him to myself and Jakarro.”

<The Mighty Jakarro enjoys breaking Exchange dolls!>

“I have a responsibility to that man!”

“And I have one to my sister,” Theron said, looking like he was seconds away from pressing his head against the floor. “Please. I will save your husband, so you can save her. Believe in me. Believe in us.”

Aryn relented quickly, after looking over the unconscious Jasme. “Fine. But if he dies…”

She didn’t know what she would do. But Theron simply nodded and left. “Come on Jakarro.”

*

Bimmisaari

Lana followed Vajra across the rooftops again. HK brought up the rear, and Vajra carried T7 on his back. They’d risen early, so they could do as much of their work under the cover of darkness as they could, and now they were about ninety percent done. The sun was just starting to rise.

Two more left.

They’d been breaking into warehouses and rendering the Revanites’ stores of chemicals inert. It had been easy enough to synthesize a neutralizing agent, once T7 discovered what they were producing. Their first heist of the night had been a lab at the edge of the city.

The synthesis had only taken ten minutes, something Vajra had expressed his amazement at.

From there, it had been a simple matter to find each and every storehouse, and insert the agent into the vat of venom. And, of course, confirm that the venom was being neutralized.

Unfortunately, the process wasn’t instantaneous, but the group could not afford to wait until the end. Still, by the time the ‘celebrations’ happened, the venom should be fully neutralized. Worst case scenario, the people exposed to it would only feel minor symptoms, such as dizziness, nausea, headaches, or excessive sweating.

They entered the second-to-last warehouse without any problem despite the growing visibility.

“There are a lot more canisters in here,” Vajra said nervously. “The other buildings only had five.”

“Clearly, this place was meant to be the epicenter of their attack,” Lana whispered back. “I think I know why. We’re in the slums, with the largest population density on the planet. An attack here would have the most damaging impact.”

Still, they were able to complete their work without any incident.

By some strange twist of fate, the final building they raided was also the most significant one.

“Look,” Lana whispered, pointing at a high-security terminal nearby. “The other warehouses didn’t have that.”

“I wish we’d hit this place earlier,” Vajra groaned. “It’s almost 06:30 now.”

“No time for regrets. T7, try and hack that terminal, would you?”

The Astromech beeped a half-hearted agreement and began its work as the others worked on neutralizing the final batch. There was only one canister here, so they were done quickly.

“It almost feels perfunctory,” Lana thought out loud. “Like they don’t want much devastation here.”

“Conjecture: Perhaps they don’t want people thinking this place was spared, for whatever reason.”

“Lana, I’m worried about the rodents,” Vajra said. “If any of them run free, they could wreak havoc on the ecosystem.”

“Not to worry. The Revanites designed these to be sterile. And to have a small lifespan. They won’t live longer than a few more months. Either their leadership care about nature, or their scientists do.”

“That’s neat! I’ll take it.”

<T7 = finished unlocking this computer.>

“Good! Download all of their files. I’ll take a quick look at them right now. Perhaps we can determine some of the other places they’re about to bomb.”

“Lana…”

“I’ll be quick,” Lana promised.

<T7 = has to download files anyway. Estimated time to completion: 10 minutes.>

“Right. HK, help me keep an eye out.”

“Acknowledgement: Of course, Master.”

Vajra closed his eyes and gave the world around them a quick scan with the Force. It was tense, like it always was with impending violence; which was strange, given how the chemical weapons had been taken care of.

Did they have the timing wrong? Was the attack about to commence early?

Couldn’t be! The ‘surprise’ was supposed to happen at the Princess’ birthday party. That was in the evening.

A minute later, a whisper in the Force caught his attention. A hidden door opened, and a large group of Revanites entered the warehouse. He knew they were Revanites, because they were led by Iirjali’s Zabrak friend.

“Looks like we’ve got some trouble here, boys.” The Zabrak was dispassion itself. “Kill them.”

HK was the first to open fire though, and his shots took down two of the enemy at once. Vajra was at a minor disadvantage here. He and Lana were still disguised, so he’d left behind his Lightsaber. All he had were a blaster and a vibrosword. He was a decent shot, but this wasn’t what he was good at. Fortunately, the enemy didn’t seem to have noticed Lana and T7 yet.

What am I doing? I’m a Jedi! I don’t have to cower behind a pillar!

He Sent Lana a questioning thought, and she covertly held up a finger for him, while T7 rolled away from the terminal, and exited the door without getting noticed. One minute. Great.

Vajra leapt out from cover, drawing the vibrosword and dodging all of the shots as he closed in. He dispatched the enemy methodically—one strike, one kill. Even the ones who switched to blades when they saw him close in. He had to hold back a lot to hide that he was a Jedi, so he wasn’t as fast as he could’ve been.

But the Zabrak had noticed Lana, and engaged his stealth field generator before Vajra could get to him. The disguised Raudra was thrown off for a few crucial seconds before dashing towards Lana, leaving HK to deal with the last of the Zabrak’s followers. He couldn’t Sense his enemy unless he made a move first.

But he Sensed disaster coming, somehow.

“We need to get out!” he said urgently.

“Ten more seconds!” she whispered.

“Now!” Vajra insisted.

“Five… four… three…”

Vajra Sensed the Zabrak’s frustration. Maybe he suspected that he was no match for Vajra and HK alone. But he made a decision at the last second—he blew the canister of poison, the door controls, and finally, threw a bomb at the terminal.

“LANA!” With the Force, Vajra Pushed Lana out of the building right before it closed. He was still no good at Breath Control—an egregious oversight, given his previous encounter with a deadly toxin. He was engulfed in toxic fumes, which made his shield too weak to protect him from the explosion that followed. He was burned, struck by shrapnel, and hurled against the far wall.

Through the Bond, he could hear Lana shrieking his name in horror.

*

HK-51 had, fortunately, taken cover behind a pillar as the bomb went off. He rose to his feet and quickly noticed his Jedi Master on the ground. The venom was clearly flammable, as were several other things in this storehouse. As a result, the incendiary component of the bomb had ignited a fire.

Panicking slightly, HK rushed to his side and proceeded to check the alien.

“Analysis: Vitals weak. Poison in bloodstream. Losing blood, but coagulation already in progress.
Conclusion: With immediate treatment, we can yet save you.”

He keyed his comm. “Master Beniko: Your partner is still alive, but in need of medical facilities. Require input.”

“HK! Oh, thank goodness! The Phoenix is close by. We upgraded its medical facilities and stocked it with the best medicine available in my caches. Get him there, now. I’ll head there first, and prep the medbay for surgery.”

“Acknowledgement!” HK remembered to grab the data disc that Master Beniko had pushed into the computer, then carried the Raudra as gently as he could before exiting via the secret passage. He also remembered to seal the way behind him.

With luck, their trail would be wiped clean by the flames.

*

Dantooine

Zee started as he woke up in the most awkward position ever. His shoulder and hip joints screamed in protest as he tried to move them, and he realized that he was hogtied, and in the dark.

Probably not Aryn. She’d untie me the second I passed out. Plus: I’m still fully dressed. “What happened?”

He was given a second start when a voice from the depths of his nightmares rang in his ears. “Ahh… welcome back to the waking world.”

Shit… Oren! He remembered now. What had happened. What he’d done. He clamped his jaw shut.

“Not even gonna say good morning?” The smug bastard clicked his tongue. He lit a glowstick. One of the cheap ones. Weak, short-lived, and single-use. From experience, Zeerid knew it would only last twenty minutes or so. As always, the Exchange was comprised of cheap bastards. Oren took a closer look at Zee. “You look familiar. Rival gang? Rival organization? Come on now, you gonna tell me who you are?”

When he got no answer, he slapped Zee across the face. Tied up the way he was, Zee was rolled onto his side roughly. He realized that he’d been pulled out of his hazmat suit.

“Come on now, you’re not even going to whimper? That is rude!” Oren slapped him again.

Zeerid simply turned his head back to him, to fix him with a level stare.

Oren grabbed him by the hair and rolled him onto his side. He kicked his prisoner in the gut. Not too hard, but definitely left a boot mark. Zee bit back a cry, but he couldn’t stop himself from coughing up blood.

“Better start talking, precious. Or I bring out my blade. You won’t like it.”

I won’t betray Arra… or Arryn. Zee closed himself off, trying to retreat as deep as he could into his core.

“Suit yourself then. Don’t worry; we got plenty of time. My boys will be here by the end of the shift—which should be an hour or two. Oxygen in this room should last well past that. Till then, it’s just you, me, and the dark.”

He began by pulling out one of Zee’s fingernails. One at a time. Then he began skinning his knuckles. Stabbing at his toes, and the balls of his feet. Zeerid lasted longer than he’d expected before his voice box started to grow louder.

The butcher realized. He grinned. “Well now, cracks showing already? I guess that rules out protecting family. I’d last much longer if I was trying to protect my boy!”

“Your boy is dead,” Zee grunted. “Your boss killed him, and fed him to his guests—”

“SHIUT UP!” Oren roared, and attempted to stab Zee’s eyes. But Zee managed to rock back slightly, and took it on his cheek instead.

Zee grinned, even though it hurt to. “And what did you do to protect him? Nothing! You still work for that piece of trash, Kabaream!”

“I SAID SHUT UP!” Oren’s knife cut the top of his ear. “Oh, I’m going to enjoy this—”

“Not like Kabaream’s guests did. Say, weren’t you at that feast—”

Oren punched him in the ribs, the jaw, the ear, and the gut. He placed his hand on the ground and stomped on it, breaking at least one finger. He left light lacerations all over his arms and legs, and kicked his groin more than once.

Zee tried to regain his poise, but steadily broke under the torment. He’d once been a member of the most elite fighting unit in the Republic; but that had been decades ago. He was a civvie now, and had lost much of his former toughness to age and neglect. Despite his best efforts, he started to harbor thoughts of just telling the man everything he wanted to know.

But the torture didn’t last much longer. The doors opened. Oren looked around in delight.

“Ah, here already? How time flies!”

“We gotta get outta here boss,” one of his men said. “There’s someone out there killing us!”

“Ah, darn it. Be a pal and put him back in his suit, would you? I don’t want him dying until I’m done with him.”

Zee felt relief sweep all over him as he was crammed into his protective gear. His hands were secured again, and he was dragged out of the room. Within minutes, they were at the entrance.

That was as far as they got.

Out of nowhere, Jakarro dropped in front of the Exchange and engaged them in a savage melee. Theron Shan began firing on the guards from the darkness behind them. Thugs began to fall like flies that had flown through a cloud of pesticide. Zee’s comrades didn’t say anything, just fought off his captors and pulled him back into the Enclave.

Zee realized that they’d killed nine thugs between them, but Oren was one of those who’d escaped.

“Easy there,” Theron said, his voice different thanks to the filter. “We’ve got you. Dammit, he’s quite bad. Jakarro, you carry him; I’ll watch your back. We’ll administer first aid when we’re safe.”

Zee was picked up gently and taken back inside. He realized he was weeping softly.

I only lasted a few minutes… How the hell did Revan last three centuries? Damn! That man must have amazing will power!

*

Chapter Text

*

Bimmisaari

Lana was deeply grateful she’d stockpiled the medbay as thoroughly as she had, even going so far as to pack several medical droids. She had been given sufficient medical training to do this herself, but was far too jittery.

After all these years, I finally understand why Doctors aren’t allowed to perform surgery on loved ones.

Still, she wasn’t completely useless. She had learned how to use Dark Healing techniques, and kept Vajra wrapped in a cocoon of rejuvenating energy as the droids purged his body of all foreign particles and toxins. It was thanks to her that her injured lover was able to recover from the effects of the chemicals as quickly as he did.

Once the surgery was over—a full three hours after it had begun—they placed him in the kolto tank to aid his healing. By the evening, he was fine. Raudra physiology, boosted by kolto, was quite powerful. But it had been close. Another ten minutes, and some of those particles would’ve reached his heart.

After removing him from the kolto tank, Lana placed him in the bed to recover, and lay down beside him. Not long after, she Sensed him begin to stir.

She did not speak at first, allowing his poor, confused brain to remind him what had happened. Allowing him to speak first.

“Hello, my Wolf.”

His voice is so weak!

“Hello? Hello!? Is that all you’ve got to say!?!” Lana was incensed. She slapped him. Lightly, but still harder than she’d intended. “You almost died!”

“Thank you for making that ‘almost.’ And… who pulled me out of there? Was it you?”

“No. HK was able to pull you out… thank goodness. I wasn’t fast enough.”

Vajra raised his neck weakly and looked around. “Remind me to thank him when I see him. And thank you again…”

“You’re welcome. Stupid ass! As if I could let you die! Why did you do such a stupid thing?! You could just as easily have saved yourself, and left me to reap the price of my own stubbornness!”

Vajra took her hand in two of his. “You’d do the same for me. Or more.”

“How can you be so sure…” Her words trailed off; her head was pressed against Vajra’s chest. Lana felt the thrum of his heartbeat. This close, she could even hear the soft rhythm of his breath. Smell his crushed-pine-needle scent. It was a miracle he had pulse or breath, after what he endured… for her. He almost died to save her… Her anger evaporated.

“You’re right,” she allowed at last, raising her head so they were nose-to-nose. “I… I care a lot more than I should. More than I’ve ever cared in my life. In fact, I don’t think I’m angry that you were being foolish. I’m angry because seeing you hurt… I hated it. It really got to me.” She raised a hand to cup his cheek.

It’s starting to fill out, she realized as she stroked his face. When had that started to happen? She gave it a gentle squeeze, stroking it with a thumb.

“I’m angry because… because I was afraid. That I was going to lose you.” An urgency crept into her voice. “I’m angry that you were going to die… for me. Do you understand?”

“I do,” he replied. His eyes were wide open, including his third one, gazing so intently into the murky depths of her soul, that she imagined something shifting inside.

“Next time you try to save my life, you’ll do it in a way where you get out unscathed. Can you promise me that?”

“Only if you promise me as well.”

She snorted. “Darling, I’m a pragmatist. You won’t catch me playing hero…”

One look at his smile told her he wasn’t buying that.

“Fine. I’ll make the same promise to you as well.”

Light poured in through the windows. The setting sun cast him in a deep, purple light. The natural patterns on his skin were cast into relief now, really making him look like a clear dusken sky. The white eye in his forehead looked like the splendid silver moon of Alderaan.

“I love you. You put the scattered pieces of my heart together.”

Vajra turned serious. He stroked her hair, his fingertips lingering on the curve of her neck. Lana got the sudden feeling that he was measuring his words. Thinking them over, feeling their truth. “I will allow the galaxy to fail and decline, before I let anything happen to you.”

Lana could not believe what she’d just heard. More than that, she couldn’t believe the absolute honesty in his head. Vajra was one of the most stalwart defenders of the innocent. He’d even helped Mercy foil Kothe’s attempted seizure of the Shadow Arsenal, in order to protect the people of Dromund Kaas. He had made a lot of sacrifices, taken a lot of hits, to make the galaxy a better place for ordinary people. He’d spent most of the past few years helping refugee resettlement. In order for him to seriously say something like this…

“Thank you,” Lana choked. “I can’t believe… what you just said… thank you.”

Wrapped in each other’s arms, they drifted off to sleep in the medbay.

*

Around Afternoon

Iirjali was dismayed by the fire. It burned slow, but eventually, grew hot enough to melt all the evidence.

As expected, her people were slow in their investigation. No one could tell whether it was intentional sabotage, or an accident, though she suspected that the latter was likely.

As Samain had said, they’d chosen some truly flammable chemicals, and the wiring in the warehouses was low-grade at best. It was easy to picture a blaze springing up unexpectedly. She regretted the loss of Samain and his team, but she didn’t think the mission was in jeopardy. She needed to move on, even without him.

Fortunately, she and Samain had automated the process. At 13:00 sharp, droids with loaders entered the main warehouse and began loading their carts. At 15:00, they entered the palace, while others prepared to release the surprise at the secondary sites.

It was now 15:59. Sixty seconds until the grand unveiling. Sweat poured down her smooth face. It was only now, that the enormity of her actions hit her. She was about to commit high treason against her king. And she didn’t even feel guilty about it; merely nervous.

How had it come to this? How had the absolute adoration she’d once had for her king and his family, vanished in a mere two sentences, leaving a burning desire to rip it out by the roots?

Twenty more seconds until the palace and the hypocrites that was the king and his family would die screaming. She could almost hear them. She could picture the Princess as she died, covered in burns and welts, coughing up blood. They would be rid of her corrupting influence soon.

Ten seconds. She pressed a syringe into her arm, injecting herself with the antidote to the chemical that was about to be unleashed. She noted that all of Jirishil’s subordinates were doing the same. No one had noticed, as all eyes were on the princess, who was ascending the podium.

Perfect.

Five. Four. Three. Two. One. Zero.

*

Dantooine

Oren had not escaped the ambush unharmed. He had taken a shot to the right knee and left foot. He had tripped on the way out of the compound, and broken a wrist in the fall. But decades of working for the Exchange allowed him to ignore the pain and banish the fear, focusing almost everything on one goal: survival.

He crawled forward as quickly as he could. He was willing to damage his body past repair. He had enough saved up to replace all of his limbs, after all. And pain was nothing.

But he also dedicated some of his mind to figuring out who his first attacker was. He’d seemed—and sounded—quite familiar, but not a recent acquaintance.

A rival? Perhaps. But few rivals knew about his son. Only a few had heard the news when his employer informed him that he had killed little Benton as punishment for his monumental failure on Gabon. He’d also mentioned that he’d served him to his guests, but Oren was… almost sure that he was lying.

But who knew that detail? Not many, that was for sure. As Oren approached safety, he ran through a list of all of his subordinates who may have overheard that conversation.

But no one fit!

Wait a minute… no one living fit. He tried again, this time thinking of those of his scamps who’d been killed. There was one man… just one, years ago. A pilot, one of the best who had worked for Oren.

He thought he was dead… a high-stakes mission, right after the Sacking of Coruscant. Carrying engspice into the occupied Republic capital. He had been shot down attempting to run the blockade.

What was his name? What was his name!?

“Z-man…” he muttered to himself. Then he raised his voice. “THAT’S IT! Z-MAN! I’M GONNA GET OFF-WORLD, AND WHEN I DO, I’M GONNA FIND YOU! YOU WON’T HIDE FROM ME EVER AGAIN! DO YOU HEAR ME, Z-MAN? YOU CAN’T HIDE!”

“So, you do remember him.”

Oren turned, attempting to level his blaster at the speaker, but it was shot right out of his hand. “Urk--!” There was a human approaching him, a human with a red jacket, and cybernetics above his eyebrow. “Who the fuck are you?”

“Someone who’s seen the shitshows caused by the Exchange way too often. Someone who hates exploitative scum like you. Someone who looks out for his friends. Someone who’s about to kill you. Take your pick.”

“Fuck you.”

Red jacket didn’t waste any more time on him. One shot. Two. Three. He turned and walked away as darkness closed in on Oren.

The Exchange Boss noticed that a nearby kath hound had taken interest in him, and was closing in for a quick meal. He wanted to sigh and shake his head. He closed his eyes, and tried to think of his son.

Z-man was half-right. He’d failed to protect his son. But he had never intended to let his boss get away, scot-free. It had always been his intention to accrue power and men, until he could do to Karbin, what Karbin had done to him. Yet another plan that had never come to fruition.

He tried to remember his son. The last time he saw him, delightedly holding onto a balloon as he cut a cake for his birthday. He was dressed in colorful clothes, and nice, shiny shoes. He had only three friends at the party, but he didn’t care. His dad was there. That was all he needed.

So cruelly taken from this galaxy… so cruelly killed… Oren felt sad, as he finally passed away. His last thought was… I wish I coulda visited his grave. Just one more time.

*

Jasme was awake. And she wished she wasn’t. In her dream, she was back in the Academy. She was the bestest Jedi in the Order, and the most respected historian in the galaxy. She was Vajra and Kira’s partner in adventure, and Mom had openly announced she was her daughter, like Dad had. Theron was happy too, with a partner and a few kids. Kids she was a happy aunty to.

And Kairegane! She was about to marry the woman of her dreams, and retire to a life of luxury and study on her home.

Then she woke up. She was in a lot of pain, due to the shoulder wound; and racked by nausea and headaches thanks to the lingering effects of the mild radiation poisoning. Worst of all, she remembered killing that Cathar.

Her guilt, shame, horror, and shock all came slinking back in like a bad stench through a suddenly destroyed window.

She hugged herself, and mentally begged someone for help.

No one heard her, of course. She was alone, in a tent. Whoever had been treating her—Aryn, probably—had left her to rest once the procedure was done. She wanted to sob, but couldn’t. She wanted to turn over and go back to sleep, but she couldn’t. The only thing she could think about, was how she’d taken a life.

How different it had been, from what she’d imagined in her ivory tower!

She continued to hug herself, and berate herself, until Arra entered the tent. “How’re you feeling?”

Jasme didn’t answer. Arra put a hand on her shoulder.

“Don’t worry. You’ll be just fine. Listen… Jakarro asked me to bring you some news from your friend, Lana. Apparently, she sent two messages. In the first, she said that Vajra got critically injured saving her from an explosion.” Jasme sat up with a jerk like an icepack had been pressed against her back. “Umm, sorry,” Arra said, jumping back. “The second said that the treatment is over, and that he’s sleeping. He’ll be just fine.”

“I need to talk to him,” Jasme said.

“That’s not possible right now. Dantooine’s subspace antenna array is down, thanks to a magnetic storm. Only short-burst text messages are possible. I’ll let you know when that changes. But we wanted to let you know.”

“Thank you.”

Arra smiled. “Here, I got you some grub. It’s camping fare, but you’ll need it after what you went through.”

She left a plate of porridge and a mug of steaming cocoa before leaving her behind.

Jasme picked up her bracelet, clutching the Keleth stone in her fist, and prayed. I know she said he’s okay, but… please, if anyone is listening, look after that little guy.

*

Casper Strider was not in the best mood. His men had discovered Javic’s body in a forsaken corner of the Enclave. It was evident he’d been left there postmortem, given the lack of blood. Perhaps to hide where he’d been killed.

And he had been killed. There was no hiding the gaping dagger wound in his neck.

With his death, he only had seven members of the Order with him, not counting himself. He didn’t know how many Exchange mercs survived. They’d played their part though, in braving the corridors. They’d sprung many of the traps and hazards. But they’d failed in one, crucial task. There were intruders in the Enclave, and he had no idea how to find them, or even who they were.

But he was closing in. He had to be. His subordinate, Ralm, had mere moments ago found several rooms full of tomes and Holocrons from the right era. They would start going through the finds right away. It might take them all night, or longer, but he dared not risk withdrawing and giving his enemies a chance to regroup.

Soon, Master. Soon.

*

Chapter Text

*

Bimmisaari

One minute passed. Two. Three. Ten.

Thirty.

And still no mayhem!

The Princess’ speech was over—more like her sermon, where she passionately spoke out against vices—rich, coming from her—especially lust.

It was the King’s turn now, and he talked about how proud he was of his virtuous, conscientious darling of a daughter. He talked about several incidents from her childhood, of the people she’d helped, of the laws she had and still championed…

Iirjali could take it no more. And nor, it seemed, could Jirishil.

She saw the Guard Captain speaking into his comm, and his men rearranging themselves to cover all of the exits. And subtly arranging themselves around the King’s more loyal guards.

He caught Iirjali’s eye and made a subtle gesture. She nodded and made for the back, preparing to leave the fiasco before it could begin. It was not the kind she’d come here for.

As she reached the gate, she heard a great screech. At first, she thought it had begun, but she then heard the shout “A RAT! A RAT! NO, MANY RATS! WHY ARE THERE SO MANY RATS!??!??”

It was then that Iirjali noticed the modified kiri rats she’d been given for this mission. There were, indeed, dozens of them. Evidently, they’d been here a while, going by all the chewed shoes and shrubs. They had the toxin canisters on their backs too, and as far as Iirjali could tell, they were active.

Was it the gas then, that had failed? Suddenly, Iirjali knew for certain that the fire earlier hadn’t been an accident. Someone had sabotaged her plan!

But the chaos was enough of a smokescreen for Jirishil and his coconspirators.

While everyone was distracted, they stunned the loyalists and moved in on the royal family.

But Jirishil’s colleague, Karshali, had noticed what he was doing. Iirjali heard her barking orders at her own subordinates, and they formed a tightly-knit perimeter around their charges and began escorting them out. Shots were exchanged between the two sides, and the confusion rose further.

Guard was fighting guard, and no one knew who was who. Jirishil’s people had tied ribbons to their belts, armbands, and badges; but these were difficult to see in the chaos. Iirja was certain there was more than a little friendly fire going on, as there had been between Imps and Malgus’ supporters back on Ilum.

People started to scream even louder and more fearfully. Many realized that there was no place to run, and took cover, pressing themselves against the ground or walls. Eventually, the loyalists managed to exit the field with their precious charges, leaving many dead and dying in their wake. More of theirs had been lost than Jirishil’s.

Iirjali’s friend mounted the dais, looking furious. He barked orders, demanding that cameras be turned back on, and live broadcasts resumed.

“Citizens of Bimmisaari. My unfortunate brothers and sisters. No doubt many of you are too frightened to be thinking of questions right now, but make no mistake: you will have questions when you’ve calmed down. You will want to know why this happened today. Why I and so many of my fellow guards, foreswore our oaths. Why we attacked those who stayed faithful to the king, even though they were our brothers-in-arms. Recently, our capital has been plagued by a debased murderer; a creature so foul and vile, that their like is looked down upon in all corners of civilized society. A serial killer. What you do not know, is that the kill count is much higher than has been reported. Not four kills, but twenty-seven. And the killer… is our ‘beloved princess’ Nissa.” His mouth twisted. “The same woman who preached virtue today. The same woman whose father told us was a sweetheart who could never hurt a fly. He knows. He is not some willfully blind parent. He knows. And he is the reason the killings have been covered up. My guards have spent the better part of two years covering up after that evil bitch and her treacherous family. But don’t take our word for it. Here’s all the evidence you need. We are making the recordings of the acts available to the public, as well as pictures of the Princess’ personal diaries. Trophies she took from her victims, every one of whom was guilty of nothing more than the crime of adultery. We invite you, our brothers and sisters, to examine the evidence we place in your hands. Once you are satisfied, join us as we cleanse our world of our faithless monarchy. I do not know what fate awaits us, but anything is better than a rule of despots.”

Sobs went still as he progressed in his address. People stopped shuffling or groaning. Everyone heard what he had to say, eager for answers. The speech shocked them. They watched the video evidence that was broadcast live. Many had expressions of horror etched on their faces. Sobbing resumed once the presentation was over.

“My guards will stay and protect you until you leave. If you return… join us.”

Iirja felt some small satisfaction. Her portion of the plan had failed, but Jirishil had salvaged something from it. There would be a revolution, a bloody one, and revolutions brought chaos.

*

Dantooine

Casper was feeling exhausted. They’d been searching for almost three weeks now, with little to no progress made.

On the positive side, he had lost only two more of his people. After the high death toll of the first few days, that was quite a welcome change.

But that was where the good news ended.

He’d vastly underestimated just how many entries the ‘relevant period’ could have. He’d combed through thousands of journals every few days, and realized that most were as mundane as his nine-year-old self’s diaries.

With only five subordinates remaining, he couldn’t afford to be lax. He had to be as balanced in their assignments as possible. He needed to work them hard without burning them out, and he needed to maintain a guard at all times.

Unfortunately, he couldn’t call for more reinforcements. Dantooine’s subspace antennae were still damaged, and from what he’d heard, the planet was too low on the priority for anyone to take notice for the at least another month.

But then at last, they caught their first break—the box of journals by Naga Sadow. Not long after, they got Ragnos’, then Kressh’s. That was when he lost two more men to a cave-in.

“That’s it, we need to leave,” Casper said. No one argued. They quickly secured their prize, packed only the most important of their tools, and all but ran for the exit. Ralm and Pana couldn’t help cheering when they emerged out into the sun.

They were just approaching their speeders when one of them blew up.

“AMBUSH!” Casper cried. He should’ve known it was going too well! Now that the enemy knew that they were expected, and his side’s numbers were thinned, it was obvious that the best way to get to them was during the escape.

The other Revanites tried to screen him from the enemy, going down one after the other. Their armor allowed them to take two or three more hits than otherwise, but it was still not enough; right before Casper made it into his speeder, the case full of journals rocked and broke in his hand. Books spilled all over the floor, and were set on fire.

NOOOOO!

This was worse than defeat! Much worse! There was no salvaging the treasure at all, no coming back for it later!

Seized by stunned bemusement, Casper gunned the engine, making back for Khoonda. He didn’t know what his fate would be, but the Master needed to know that this prize was beyond him.

He felt wrath engulf him. He wished he could swing back and take a look at his ambushers so they could be marked for death. But the rockets whizzing past him were a stern deterrent to that idea.

Escape was the only option left open to him.

*

Theron almost cheered when he saw the speeder zoom away into the horizon. “You sure that was a good idea?” he asked his sister.

“Yes. I switched a few labels before running into Javic. What we destroyed was census data from a thousand years ago. There are records of it, elsewhere. We can switch the labes back once the Revanites are dealt with.”

<The Mighty Jakarro is impressed with Aryn Leneer’s skill with rocket launchers!”

“Thank you. A Jedi at war must be proficient in all manner of skills. Now let’s head home, shall we? We can have a small party before you leave.”

“I’m cooking,” Jasme said firmly. “I need to thank the both of you for helping us out.”

“I need to thank you properly for saving Zee’s life.”

“And we need to thank you properly for saving Jasme’s,” Theron said.

“I guess we can make it a real party then.”

“Yes. Let’s get going.”

*

Bimmisaari

Varrec Harrod had served as King Talin Rycar’s butler for over forty years. He had seen his master in various states of distress over his career, but never had he seen him so completely lacking in words or energy.

“My liege,” Varrec prompted.

“You have to address the crowds, Sir.” Captain Garard was the only loyal Guard Captain the palace had left, and only twenty guards remained. Even many of the servants had either fled, switched sides, or been killed. Much of the palace had been taken, but for the king’s residence.

The king did not respond. Not until the worst news reached him.

*

Nissa knew that snake Jirishil’s vices. She’d always hoped to end his life, one day. He was disloyal to his wife and family. To think, he’d have the temerity to be disloyal to hers, too!

The brothel was open again, today, after several weeks of having its shutters down. Nissa had expected Jirishil to be one of the first customers, not even waiting for sundown. She was right.

He entered, looking so pleased with himself, that it was plain for her that justice was not his main plan. He was angry, and lashing out at the world that had not seen him born in power. Fury was a sin. Lust was a sin. Pride was a sin. Hubris was a sin. Adultery was a sin.

Jirishil deserved to die.

She hissed, moving up to him through the milling crowd. She waited until he’d been shown his room, where he was alone, before she struck.

With a screech that unleashed her pent-up wrath, she leapt out, knife drawn. The guard captain was startled, but her battlecry had given him a moment of warning. He avoided the first blow and blocked the second and third with his unhooked pauldron.

The fourth took him in the throat. As he fell, Nissa noticed that his expression was a cross between hatred and satisfaction.

It doesn’t matter if you kill me, they seemed to say. I have accomplished my goal.

This enraged the Princess.

“YOU STINKING SONOFABITCH!” Nissa shrieked, kicking the betrayer’s corpse. “HOW DARE YOU GIVE ME THAT LOOK!? DON’T YOU KNOW WHO I AM? I LOOKED AFTER YOUR WIFE WHEN SHE FOUND OUT ABOUT YOUR INFIDELITY! I COMFORTED YOUR CHILDREN WHEN THEY WERE HURT BY THEIR MOTHER’S DEATH, AND THEIR FATHER’S INDIFFERENCE! I SHOULD’VE KILLED YOU THEN, BUT I WAS TOO KIND! IS KINDNESS A SIN TOO? NO, IT ISN’T! YOU WILL ROT IN HELL, TRAITOR!”

People had started to rush into the room, having heard the commotion. They were afraid at first, but they began pointing at Jirishil’s corpse and then at her.

“It’s her!”
“It’s the butcher!”
“It’s Nissa!”

“PRINCESS NISSA!” she screamed at the commoners.

That was around the time she was attacked. Jirishil’s escort ran at her with their tulwars shing-ing out of their sheaths. Nissa wished she had her sword. She began fending off blow after blow after blow, eventually striking a guard in the arm, and another in the face.

Then she felt a water jug break against her ear. She fell in a daze, looking up at the wobbly ceiling above.

One of the guards kicked her weapon out of her numb fingers, and the crowd began piling on top of her, immobilizing her legs and hands.

“Get your filthy paws off of me!” she demanded. “I am your princess! I wll not be treated like thi—”

“SHUT UP!” a woman yelled, and smashed a flower vase on her head. “You killed my husband!”

“You’re a serial killer! A butcher!”

“You’re a criminal!”

“They were sinners!” Nissa declared, shaking off her pain. “They broke their sacred vows to their—”

“So what? You don’t have the authority for summary justice! Even your father needs to go through the courts!”

“Is that what you’re going to do to me?” Nissa sneered. “Or will you kill me?”

“You have already been tried and sentenced,” a human shouted. “The Council of Elders saw all of Captain Jirishil’s evidence, and declared you guilty!”

“We should take her to the gallows! Let the world see the moment this asp’s body swings from a noose!”

Everyone shouted in approval. Nissa tried to struggle, but she got punched in the gut for her trouble. I wouldn’t have lost if I had my sword, she complained bitterly.

There was no dignity in her lynching, but as the switch was pulled and the noose began to strangle her, she felt some gratitude that these beasts hadn’t even tried to violate her.

*

The King took one look at his beloved daughter, swinging from a noose in the courtyard, and retched noisily. “My girl!” he sobbed. “My little girl! What have they done to you!? Oh, curse this world and its ungrateful inhabitants!”

The retinue behind him exchanged nervous glances. Everyone knew what their princess had done, and her father to keep her crimes quiet.

“I give up!” he said loudly. “Garard? Garard, where are you?”

“Here, my liege.”

“Let my reign end here. I am spent. Take my life, and distribute my jewels to all those who still remained. You may take my crown for yourself.”

“I—”

“Do it.”

Garard didn’t hesitate any longer. He drew his blaster and shot the king in the back of his head.

“The king is dead,” he said sadly. Varrec was already busy dividing the wealth among the servants and guards. They probably had another ten minutes before the palace was breached, and they needed to be safely away before then.

*

Prince Hojim Rycar was a mere twenty years old. He was also known to be a sickly and whiny child. Many now believed that he’d been bullied by his sister, and ignored by his father. Everyone was happy to believe the worst of their monarchy now, except for Hojim, who was still quite young. With the princess and king dead, the hottest of their tempers were cooling. No one wanted to kill a child.

And so, the monarchy was given one last chance, though it was only half a chance. The king’s powers had been curtailed by the Council of Elders, which would have greater say over the planet’s governance, and authority over the monarchs themselves.

Hojim sat nervously, looking like he’d rather be elsewhere. Anywhere. A new crown was placed upon his furry head, and the applause was polite at best. He took the oaths of the monarch, old and new, and a box of asaar doves were released into the air as a symbol of a new dawn.

*

Iirjali saw the doves released into the air with melancholy. After all this, her foolish people still weren’t willing to give up their past chains completely. No matter. With Jirishil’s help, she’d constructed a bomb as a last resort. It was under the king’s throne now. Those doves were her signal to act.

But the bomb didn’t respond to the signal. “I suppose I’ve failed again,” she sighed. “How humiliating.”

“You didn’t fail. We disarmed your bomb.”

She turned to see a human man walking up to her. There was cold anger in his eyes. “Are you the one who foiled my other plan too?”

“Yes.”

“You made a fool out of me.”

“You made a terrorist out of yourself. How many innocents would’ve died for your little coup?”

“Their deaths would have served a greater purpose. I don’t know what that is, however. I’m just a soldier.”

“What do you know?”

“I know that mine wasn’t the only plot that was foiled. Other worlds were spared the torch. Kashyyyk. Bothawui. Ryloth. Rodia. But I know about the places you failed to save, too. Selonia. Onderon. Telos.” She sighed. “Who are you? Why do you stand in the way of peace?”

“I stand in the way of terrorists.”

Iirjali drew her blaster and fired in a smooth motion. The human surprised her by dodging. He closed in on her, and rammed a fist against a pressure point under her rib cage. She fell down. But she wasn’t caught. She destroyed her false molar, and consumed the poison within.

“I’m sorry, great Master.”

“The ones you should be apologizing to, are your people.”

She didn’t care what else this man had to say. The poison was strong and made her choke, but the end came quickly. At least she wouldn’t divulge anything. The Order of Revan would still prevail.

*

Back aboard the Phoenix

Lana Beniko had finally cracked the logs she’d discovered in the storehouse, logs that had been dearly bought. They were a treasure trove of information, though it wasn’t complete. She still didn’t have an exhaustive list of names, but she knew about three thousand important people who weren’t Revanites. More, she had a list of the Revanites’ next few goals.

Tatooine. Arkania. Sullust. Iridonia. And Vortex.

“We’re getting somewhere,” she said to herself. “I hope we’re getting there fast enough.”

*

Jerre had had enough. The Master was displeased with Casper’s failure. He just killed him. Dropped a crate on him.

Was this what he’d signed up for? They were killing and hurting innocents, damaging the Republic war effort, shaking up local governments, causing unrest, prolonging the war, and killing their own.

He’d never been part of an outfit that executed someone for failure.

He returned to his room to cry. To try and banish the images and thoughts from his head.

He decided that it was nearly time to leave.

*

Chapter Text

*

Tatooine,
Ten months later

Kairegane Rooks felt a strange affinity to extremes. A lot of species out there either liked hot climes, or cold ones, never both. But she herself was alright with Tatooine and Hoth. She did prefer Hoth, but she liked it here, too.

Unfortunately, most of her comrades were not as good with Tatooine. Vette had labored through it, many years ago, but never again. Quinn decked himself out in full desert gear, and kept a full set of stimpacks ready. Jaesa was also wearing thick robes to protect herself from the twin suns, and carried so much water that she needed the Force to pick it up.

Their contact was waiting at the cantina. Sharack Breev was a dark-skinned woman with several piercings on each ear and white hair. Her face had grown lined since their last meeting, probably due to the planet’s twin suns.

“Ah, Dark Lord. It is my humble pleasure to meet you again.”

“Sharack Breev. How have the sands of Tatooine been treating you?”

“They are harsh to king and peasant alike, Dark Lord.”

“You know why I’m here.”

“Yes, Dark Lord. You’re here about the letter I sent you, three weeks ago.”

“I apologize that it took me so long. I’ve been getting swamped with paperwork. Even with five secretaries and droids for each, important letters slip through the cracks.”

“I see. I will remember to send three, next time.”

“That would be nice.” Kairegane held out her hand, and Quinn placed the datapad in it. “Here’s what you said:
‘I recently caught sight of someone distinctly out of place in the Dune Sea, apparently attempting to barter with a Jawa clan for lodging. When I closed in on her, I recognized her: it was the Sith wanted for the murder of Darth Arkous!

I shadowed her, hoping to see where she would ultimately find sanctuary. I am an excellent tracker, but she is Sith. She slipped away. I later learned that someone bearing her description departed the planet with the assistance of a Wookiee pilot. That is all I know, I’m afraid.’”

All eyes turned to Sharack. “I remember it. The sands bury their memories, but they keep them preserved, too.”

“As you might’ve guessed, we need to find Beniko. She’s a high-priority target.”

“Of course, Dark Lord. I have tried to follow her trail here on Tatooine, but was unable to find much of value. Whoever it was that she was running from, they were dangerous.”

“She was running?”

“Aye, my Lord.”

“From whom, Twin Suns? Exchange? Hutt soldiers? Republic ones? Surely, I’d have heard if the Empire was the one who nearly cornered her!”

“None of those, I think. Word gets around, if one of the many powers are hunting for someone. This was a different faction, one who came with a purpose and didn’t intend to stay long.”

“Tell me the story as you’ve discovered.”

“Lady Beniko stumbled out of the Dune Sea with wounds and a mild sunburn. I traced her path for nearly twenty minutes after losing her, and discovered a speeder that had run out of fuel and coolant, which she’d abandoned. It was evident that others had arrived before I had, for the speeder had been stripped and searched. Its computer had been pulled out. Not Jawas, for they would have taken the speeder.”

“Strange that Beniko stood out so much. If she was so unsubtle, she’d have been caught months ago. Or died.”

“She didn’t seem to know her way around the Dunes, that was for certain. When negotiations with the Jawas failed, she fled to other groups. She even approached a clan of Tuskens, though I lost track of her around then. Despite being out of her depth, she was able to lose me. She’s crafty.”

“Did you speak to any of these groups? Learn what she tried to offer them?”

“She started with credits. Five thousand, an amount which reeked of desperation. When that failed, she offered the location of moisture vaporators, buried close by. Then, her stores of water.”

“That is desperate.”

“She approached the J’rarrku Jawa Clan first. They are deep within the desert at the moment, making the Great Crossing. Several remote farmsteads; the Gray farm, the Mathisson farm, and the Deja farm. And finally, the Bhaille K’shorr Clan of Tuskens. That one almost gave in to the location of the moisture vaporators, but that was about when she noticed me, and begged their leave to depart. I have no idea how she disappeared. I thought she’d run off into the desert and died, but then I heard about a Wookiee pilot who came to her aid. She was picked up close to Outpost Rennar.”

“She got very far.”

“Yes. It’s easier in the dark, when you’re not beset by the heat. Still an achievement.”

“Did she have any other help?”

“Not that I’m aware of, my Lord. Only the Wookiee.”

“What do we know about this Wookiee?”

“His name is Jakarro. He’s a smuggler and mercenary who has been to Tatooine before, though I’m told he hates it here. He was on Tatooine a few months earlier, hunting down an old rival of his. Deszam. He’s recently had several death marks placed on him, though we don’t know why.”

“So, a fugitive helping a fugitive.”

“It appears so, Dark Lord.”

“Curious. Do we know he left the planet after picking up his traitor friend?”

“Yes. Scanners picked up his ship exiting the atmosphere and making the jump to Lightspeed. But there has been no word of him returning.”

“Perhaps we can acquire the data about his ship,” Kai looked at Quinn. “It’s model, name, and ID.”

“I’ll make the inquiries at once.”

“Why did the farmers refuse her shelter?” Kai asked. “As I recall, they have something of a gentlemen’s code out here.”

“That only applies to anyone who looks like a civilian. Beniko does not.”

“Right. Pierce, Sharack: I want you to help me find out whom it is, that she was running from. Jaesa, maybe you can help me speak to the Tuskens. Quinn, find out how she got here in the first place. If she has any other associates still here. And if she contacted anyone while she wandered these sands.”

“Of course, Dark Lord.”

“This was our first real lead in nearly two years. Anything that we can discover about the fugitive, anything at all…”

Perhaps she has information on Mira too.

“As you command, Tiarna!”

“Let’s go.”

*

Dromund Kaas

Lord Hekaten Kallig—also known as Darth Nox of the Dark Council—rose to greet his right hand as she entered. “Ah, Imperius! You’re early today.”

“I’ve got to keep you on your toes somehow. Can’t have you slipping into a rhythm. Getting complacent.”

“What’s this? A joke?” Hekaten turned to her Apprentice. “Did you hear that, Kariya? Your Master just pulled my leg!”

The human smiled nervously. “Um. Yes, congratulations, my Lord.”

“No, truly, this is a day to mark on the calendars! What say we declare today the Imperial leg-pulling day?”

“Kat. Silence, or you will never hear a joke from these lips, again.”

“Right. So, what’s the real reason you were early?”

“We were supposed to receive that report on the Hapsaki pyramid today.”

“Oh, yes.” Hekaten turned to Talos Drellik, who cleared his throat.

“Apologies, Dark Lords. It’s running a little late. It should be here in an hour.”

“Shoot. I guess this means I have to entertain you for the next hour. Want to visit the Starfield gallery with me? Or perhaps, we can watch an opera on the holo?”

Kariya tugged on her Master’s sleeve, and Minara sighed regretfully. “Not with my girl here, Kat. Dates are for Date nights, only.”

“Right. Sorry. We can look through some of my other reports, if you like.”

“We need to get those out of the way, at some point.”

“Right. Kariya, do you have any preferences? I’m not trying to tease you.”

“Thank you, Dark Lord. I, um. How about this one? The Iridonia incident?”

“Iridonia, eh? That’s a Republic world, right?”

“Yes,” Minara nodded. “It’s where the Zabraks originate from.”

“Right. Well, it’s a world we’re not very interested in, at the moment. I wonder happened there, that would find its way to my desk?”

Minara began scanning the summary. “It’s from someone called Sergeant Tarsten. Do you know him? His tone’s a bit familiar.”

Hekaten had to squeeze his memory a little. “I think I met him while planning for the attack on Tython. He served Arkous. Like… served him. He was more errand and messenger boy than soldier.”

“Well, he says he found a lead on the traitor, Lana Beniko.”

“Lana Beniko… I haven’t thought of that woman in years. Clever or not, I’m surprised she’s still alive. Must have been hiding in some corner of the galaxy somewhere.”

“What does Tarsten say?”

“He says he was deployed to the planet on a secret mission. To assassinate a Republic Senator and his retinue. They were thwarted by Lana Beniko. He didn’t see her, but the team got killed by a Lightsaber.”

“I see. His teammates were killed by a Lightsaber. Anything else?”

“No.”

“That’s such a terrible, weak link! What next, ‘I saw an eclipse, so I think all the crops in the Empire are going to fail’?”

Minara snorted. “What are you going to do?”

“Xalek.”

“Yes, my Master.”

“Take a few of our soldiers. Seek out this Tarsten. Bring him in. See why he bothered us with such a bad conspiracy theory. Politely, if that’s enough. Rough, if it’s not. Don’t let him know you’re coming, until you’re in front of him.”

“I obey.”

“Well, that was a total bust. What’s next?”

“Here’s a report from Arkania. Someone called Marko Ka. A new turbolaser design and prototype that he was sent to steal, were destroyed… Lana again.”

“Any credibility in this one?”

“He claims to be a Cipher Agent. He claims that Lana is the only known Force user who can hit a target the size of a fist at three hundred meters. With a single shot.”

“Is she? Never knew. Was she working with anyone?”

“Yes, but he couldn’t tell who it was.”

“Does he describe them?”

“Human. Average height, lean build, dark skin and hair. No matches in Imperial or Republic databases. But he was likely disguised.”

“Here’s the second question. Why?”

“You mean, why would Lana be actively working against the Empire, if she’s trying to lay low?”

“No, why are we getting reports about her?” he typed the name ‘Lana Beniko’ in his search, and he realized he had at least seven more messages pertaining to her. “Why are we getting so many reports about her? Bringing her to justice is Mortis’ responsibility, not mine. As much as I would love bringing her in, I have my own house to maintain.”

“Right. I’ll pen a message asking everyone to kindly not reach out to us in matters related to law and order.”

“Unless they’re known to have trespassed on my domain, of course. Or threatened me or one of mine.”

“Right.”

“Here’s one you might like,” Kari said, holding up a report. “One of Angral’s caches have been found, and it’s suspected to be brimming with trophies he stole from Coruscant.”

“Anything formerly of Angral’s rightfully belongs to the Scarlet Queen. Verify the authenticity, then drop her a line telling her to pick it up if she wants it.”

“Yes, Lord.”

Lady Kai rarely ever took such articles, so Hekaten was reasonably certain he would be able to place it in his own vaults. But he wanted to maintain the courtesy. He was finally returning into her good graces. Perhaps she would be delighted to have such artifacts. Perhaps she would return it to the Republic, as a gesture of good faith.

“Anything else?”

“My Lords! The Hapsaki pyramid report is here!” Good old Talos was excitement cloaked in flesh.

“Ah, good. Let’s begin the main course, shall we?”

Minara smiled wide. “Yes, let’s!”

*

Corellia

Senator Krasul was touring the restored Corellian Museum when the assassination attempt occurred. A quartet of young, disaffected men and women with daggers and blasters. But before his bodyguards could intervene, a Zabrak stepped out from the crowd and shot all four assassins.

He already had his badge out when his bodyguards challenged him, but Krasul knew who he was right away. “Ah, Major Roban Queens. I take it, your presence here is no coincidence?”

“In part, Senator. I was invited for the parade that’s to be held later in the day, but Director Trant was worried there might be assassins after you.”

“Trant this time, eh? Hmm.” He looked at the would-be assassins. They were alive, having been hit by stun bolts. His guards were already binding their arms. “I suppose this is the second time I owe you, my life.”

“No thanks necessary, Senator. It’s my duty to serve.”

“And mine to show grace.”

The Zabrak took that as his dismissal. He saluted and left.

*

As Roban left the museum—shaking off a reporter to do so—he got a call on his personal comm.

Garza?

She hadn’t contacted him in months. It had to be important. He got into his speeder—for it was soundproof and regularly swept for bugs—and took the call. “Sir.”

“Hello, Major. I trust you’ve been well.”

“Yes, Sir. As well as can be expected.”

“Good. Are you in a secure location?”

“Roger that.”

“Good. I have a request for you. A new, experimental unit called Eclipse Squad has gone rogue. I need them dealt with discreetly.”

Just like old times. “Where are they?”

“They’ve scattered, I’m afraid. I have reason to suspect that some are on Iridonia, or will be there shortly.”

“I’m already on my way there, General.”

“No need. The parade on Corellia is important for morale. It’ll be good if you attend it. But take off before the sun rises tomorrow.”

“Copy that.”

*

Corvus

‘Lord Scorn,
The Council has accepted your generous gifts and terms, and ordered a full review of the Jabiim incident.
Unfortunately, our analysts went over everything we found at the site, including examining the bodies of all Imperials found inside the < - - - Redacted - - - >. None of them match the description of your missing comrade.
Master Gnost Dural says that he Sensed two Sith escape the fighting, but was unable to pursue due to lack of manpower, as well as the need to prioritize the safety of the cultural heritage site over the status of enemies.
Upon close inspection of all datapads, journals, and letters found among the dead, there was no reference to any Lord Travvor. Or, indeed, any indication of what they were looking for, in the first place.
Nevertheless, we are sending you copies of everything we found, including the full incident report (with sensitive information redacted) and names of the deceased. Perhaps this will help you find your missing friend.
We hope you find her soon.
Yours Truly,
Selma Hines, Archivist of the Jedi Order.’

“Darn it… another dead end…” Rrayden Scorn was desperate for answers. No, he was desperate a year ago. Now, he was bordering manic. He had allowed Gault to take over the running of his operations, as he was too frantic to do so.

At least the wily Devaronian was proving trustworthy.

“Hey…” Vette poked her head in and dashed to his side. She pulled a tissue from the box at his table and wiped his face. “Another bad lead?”

“I dunno… at least the Council was willing to entertain my request at all. Pretty nice of them. They sent me a list of her ‘friends.’ The ones who were killed in their dig.” He looked through the list. It was small, but had several Mandalorians and Sith in it. “I can ask our usual channels for info on these names. Hope they find something.”

“Actually, I went and did a little something myself,” Vette confessed. “Remember Jasme? Lady Kai’s old girlfriend? She’s with the Jedi Archives. Not a Jedi, just a librarian. I asked her about Mira this morning, and she sent me back a reply.”

“This morning? Damn, we should’ve reached out to her from the start. What does she say?”

“It’s better if you read it yourself.” She handed Ray a datapad, and he began reading at once.

‘Dear Vette.
As it happens, I was on Jabiim around the same time as Mira. She Sensed my presence and tracked me down. Twice. The second time being days after the battle in orbit. She seemed fine, when I last saw her. A little upset that her work had been interrupted, but fine, nonetheless. It’s my belief that she safely escaped Jabiim. No incidents were filed, of a ship being shot down while attempting to flee.
I don’t have any other leads for you, except a name she mentioned. A boyfriend named Turan Rasmus. A Sith Lord. Maybe he knows something, if he hasn’t gone missing either.
I’m sorry I couldn’t be of more help.
I’m sorry she’s missing. Despite the circumstances, she was nice when she met me. I hope you find her soon.
Love,
Jasme.’

“Turan Rasmus…” Ray tried to recall anything about the name, but it meant nothing to him. “Nothing. Another name I have to look up.”

“I’m sorry, Ray.”

“No… I’m sorry. I’ve even put off our wedding because of it—”

“I’d be upset, if you hadn’t. I’d do the same, if Jaesa or Lady Kai went missing.”

“If Lady Kai went missing, the whole Empire would be in an uproar.”

“I guess… here, I’ll ask around for this Rasmus guy. And that list, too. You get some sleep. You look like you need it.”

“Thank you, Vette.”

*

Rishi

Mirabelle Travvor looked at her reflection. She did not like what she saw. She’d started getting soft. Literally. Having been forced to neglect physical training for months now, her muscles were starting to lose their definition.

Her hair was growing, too. If only she had some shears, she’d trim it herself. But she was no longer allowed anything that remotely looked like a weapon. She was a prisoner now.

She suppressed another pang of rage. I will get back at you for this, Revan.

Unfortunately, her threats felt empty. No, she tried not to call them that. She needed to hold onto her righteous fury. Revan had corrupted the Order that bore his name. They were fanatical cultists now, rather than a humane secret society. Willing to burn the galaxy, if it meant allowing their head honcho to get the prize he wanted.

If he can achieve what he set out to, it will be worth it.

The doors parted, and the man himself walked in. “Travvor. You’re looking well.”

“You need your eyes checked, you asshole.”

“Has being cooped up so long sapped you of your courtesy?”

“Courtesy… I’m your fucking prisoner here!”

“A dishonor you brought on yourself.”

“What dishonor did you bring on yourself, for your own failures?”

“Imprisonment. Death. Return. Do not pretend that I have lived a cushy life. Now get on with it. What have you found?”

Mirabelle glowered for a moment, then relented. “Here. I found the place we’re looking for.”

Revan approached her, and examined the document she was holding out. “The Yavin system. The third planet. A forest moon… a Temple of Sacrifice. Good work, Travvor.”

“What’s going to happen to me?”

“As a reward for your success, you will be allowed to join me on my expedition there. You will help me set up the base and explore this Temple. Are you excited?”

“I would’ve been, under ordinary circumstances. Your promise?”

“Yes. I won’t harm Scorn or Rasmus. We’re so close… so close… after all the failures this past month, I thought the Order of Revan was the biggest insult my name had ever taken. But you alone have proven the worth of my decision to seek you out.”

“Back to insults, are we? I wish you’d stayed the fuck away.”

Revan ignored her. He was already on his way out. “I need a distraction,” he was telling himself. “Something our enemies can’t ignore. Too often, have we been thwarted by Shan and Beniko. If we can tie them down here…”

“Oi!” Mira called one of his guards, who turned. “I haven’t seen Kraot in a while. Where is he?”

The pink-haired captain had visited her every week for a few months, until he stopped. Abruptly.

“He’s in prison. The rat was planning to turn tail.”

“Well, that’s got to have been hard on the Master.”

She was being sarcastic, but the guard nodded sagely. “It was. He was most upset. Good day, Lord Travvor.”

*

Tython

“Grand Master, are you well?”

“Yes, just tired,” Satele lied. She hadn’t noticed someone had approached her table.

Jaric nodded. “Well, here’s a report I wanted to pass along. We need to talk about this at the next session of the Council.”

“Thank you, Master Kaedan.” She quickly looked over the report. Pirate activity had started to increase along the Rishi Maze.

Satele would’ve been more interested in this, once upon a time. It was now almost two years since she last saw Jasme or Vajra. Or Theron, for that matter. She still received weekly messages, but she wanted their self-imposed exile to end. She wanted them safe and sound.

Unfortunately, it seemed like the day of their reunion was still a long way off.

Be safe, children.

She got back to reading the report. Her kids were hard at work killing shadows. The least she could do was show an equal commitment to the Republic’s safety. And the Jedi Order’s.

To protect their home, and have a triumphant celebration lined up for them.

*

Chapter Text

*

Vortex

Vajra felt a certain affinity to this planet, and a kinship with its people.

The winged people of world were emotionless in comparison to others. But they appreciated the beauty of music, to the point that they all but lived for it. Their magnum opus, the wonder of their world, was a structure called the Cathedral of Winds, which was a delicate, intricate, crystalline building that took advantage of the almost violent wind currents of their world to make beautiful songs.

And today was a special day, where the changing season—which happened instantly and could be felt across the planet—caused such powerful winds that the Cathedral could be heard for hundreds of kilometers around. The Vors—the people of Vortex—would cover the many holes in the cathedral to produce beautiful, soulful music in a day aptly called the Concert of the Winds.

It was a rare treat, and while there were tourists who loved to see this for themselves, it still wasn’t an event that drew more than a few thousand every year. And thanks to their work in saving the Cathedral’s secrets from Revanites, Vajra and Lana had been granted seats on a nearby gallery. They both listened in awe and silence as the Cathedral was played like a set of giant flutes.

It was far different from anything they’d imagined, and was a reminder to even Lana that there were wonders in this galaxy beyond even her imagining.

“What do you mean ‘beyond even my imagining?’” She teased. “I think someone has a very high estimate of my capabilities!”

“After all this time, wouldn’t you say that I’m justified? I’ve seen your pretty head in action for a long time.”

Lana giggled softly, and somehow, the Cathedral sang a note in tune with that lovely sound. “Then you should know, I’m not arrogant enough to believe I know more than a teensy little drop of the wide ocean of knowledge that this cosmos has to offer.” She sighed happily. “There’s an ethereal beauty to this song. I wish I could etch it into my soul forever. I wish I could rewrite my poem, so that it matches the melody and texture. I wish I could just sit here and bask in these songs for a hundred years!”

“To be honest, I hear much more precious music whenever your mind brushes against mine. Your soul has a beautiful music of its own.”

Lana looked round in surprise. “Really? Alright, I have a new goal. You’re going to teach me how to hear the songs in souls. I want to hear yours. No doubt it’s one of the nicest in the galaxy.” She snorted after a few heartbeats. “You hear music in everything too, don’t you? Your people must have a deep, spiritual kinship with the Vor.”

“I think I was just lucky. My awakening came thanks to a Lightsaber crystal’s song, after all.”

“Yes. Yes, it did.”

They continued to listen to the rest of the concert for almost four hours in silence. Their satisfaction echoed across the Bond, amping up the moment.

It had been a good day.

*

Late at Night

Vajra and Lana returned to their rooms earlier than they would’ve liked. Left to themselves, they would’ve stayed up the whole night. Listened to every last second of the concert. But they had a meeting to attend.

They were late, clearly having kept the others waiting.

“Ah, there you are at last!” D4 exclaimed. “I thought something had happened!”

“Apologies,” Lana said, dipping her head. “The Concert was even more beautiful than we could’ve imagined.”

“It really moves the soul,” Vajra said. “Jasme, I think we should come here with Kira and Satele when we get the chance. Maybe the Tiarna, too.”

“Oooo, I’d like that!”

“How about we skip to the main course?” Theron asked. “Sorry, but it’s been a long week. We need to sleep.”

Jakarro rumbled in agreement.

“Sorry. The Revanites were after the designs to the Cathedral. From what we could tell, they wanted to figure out how to build a similar structure, on a smaller scale.”

“They were also trying to perform a ritual here,” Lana said. “I think it was a scrying ritual. But none of the Revanites knew what the end goal was.”

“What about you guys?”

“We raided the Revanite base on Telos. It took a while to set it up, but we know more about them now. It was worth coming here purely because this was the only semi-permanent base we’d discovered until now. Lots of files, lots of reports. We got some really strong leads this time. We know some more hidden Revanites, and we know our next objective: Rishi.”

“From what I can tell, pirate activity has been on the rise in Rishi,” Vajra said hesitantly.

“I don’t know if it’s related yet. Could be. I do know this: the presence there is strong enough, that we need all hands on deck.”

“Did you hear that, little brother?” Jasme beamed. “We get to meet again!”

“I’m so excited!”

“You’re telling me everything. EVERYTHING, YA HEAR?!”

Vajra and Lana both laughed. “Of course!”

“What have you found out?” Theron interrupted after a long yawn.

“We’ve discovered a few high-level personnel who aren’t Revanites,” Lana replied. “As expected, Tiarna Kairegane and her inner circle are clean.”

“Vette hit me up this morning,” Jasme said guiltily. “She and Lord Scorn are missing Lord Travvor. I felt guilty not telling her about the Revanites, but I did tell her about meeting her on Jabiim. And her partner, Turan Rasmus.”

“I’m not sure that was wise,” Lana frowned slightly. “We don’t yet know if Lord Scorn is clean. Or if he has someone watching him. Still, I’ll trust you on this. Perhaps he can give the Revanites something else to worry about. I’ve also cleared all of Havoc Squad, the current Dark and Jedi Councils, and a lot of major figures on both sides.”

“Good. Us too. We can compare lists on Rishi.”

“I wanted to ask, how did the Tatooine job end up?”

“You distracted them long enough—and completely enough—for us to enter that hideout and copy and delete all of their blackmail data. They had little else of value.”

<Lord Beniko makes for an enticing decoy!> Jakarro chuckled.

“I didn’t like leaving her alone down there,” Vajra said.

“It’s not like we had a choice. The droids were on their mission, and you are weak to Tatooine.”

“I know, I know. Besides, you’re a big girl. Can take care of herself. But let’s not leave anyone without backup, ever again.”

“Right. I’ll be honest, I was worried too. But you impressed me. You managed to paint quite a target on your back, then stay alive despite that. And no one suspects that you were trying to be noticed. There were some hiccups though. Did you know that Tiarna Kairegane is currently there, trying to follow your trail?”

“Damn! It must have been that woman… she was one of Baras’. I didn’t know that until after I escaped Tatooine, of course. It makes sense that she’s transferred her loyalty to the Tiarna. Still, the Tiarna will find nothing.”

“Good. Jasme, Jakarro, and I will take a few days off. Need to catch up on some sleep. We’re headed to Rishi in about a week.”

“We’ll meet you there.”

Lana turned to Vajra once the feed had died. “I admit, I’m feeling sleepy too.”

“Shall we keep the windows open?” Vajra suggested. “I want to sleep to that music.”

“Good idea.”

*

Vajra found the music bringing out memories that he had long since forgotten. Or rather, which had been forgotten for him.

Not the ones lost thanks to Master Oteg’s actions, no. What he recalled were visions from Voss and Dromund Kaas.

He Saw his Mirror, which had shown him his future. He fought against wave after wave of adversaries; sometimes alone, but more often surrounded by friends and allies. Fighting to protect a brilliant jewel that burned with a bright flame. He saw the Sith standing shoulder-to-shoulder with him and Jedi, including Tiarna Kaimeryn… and a pale Sith with an orange Lightsaber, whom he now knew to be Lana.

This is incredible! he thought. Was she always meant to play an important part in his life?

He Saw the Vision granted him by the Vision Stone of the Mystics. He saw himself addressing a large crowd of prominent Sith, Jedi, Imperial and Republic soldiers and soldiers, and some people whom he still didn’t recognize.

But he now recognized the violet-skinned Twi’lek sitting on a hoverchair beside the angry, young brunette. Darth Nox.

Lana was beside him as well, though older than she was now. She wore loose robes rather than her crisp uniforms, and he realized with a start that she was pregnant. He also realized that the toddler in Master Satele’s arms—the one with his skin and third eye—also had hair as blonde as Lana’s. He felt giddy.

He only heard snatches of the conversation he had with his guests, and more of what he had with Lana’s phantom later. But unmistakable, was her love for him. And her declaration, that she would be there for him.

He then saw his descent into the Emperor’s old throne room on Dromund Kaas, where Lana’s was one of several voices which helped him steady his nerves.

“I love you. I will always believe in you. Even though we haven’t met yet.”

He remembered many critical moments in the fight: when he was trapped in the mind maze, when he was assailed by Lightning, and during that final clash. Lana’s voice had been the one to stay with him throughout. It had kept him strong.

“Even if the shield fails, I’ll remain until you’ve won. In fact, I’ll be out there even after you do. But once you leave this world, you will forget much about me. Only pieces will remain, including this heartfelt entreaty: Try and wait for me, and we will heal you for good.”

“Just a little more now, my Knave. You’ve been so brave… you only need to last a little longer. Just the end of the day, and it’s over. You can rest for a little while.”

He woke up, gasping like he’d just swum a marathon. The waning notes of the Concert filled the air. It was around 05:30.

Vajra sat on the edge of his bed, running a hand through his hair. Lana stirred and rolled in her sleep. She mumbled something about a kitten.

Vajra chuckled, feeling a rush of emotion. He remembered a mirage of their Bond. He remembered now! That was it, that was why Lana had always seemed so familiar to him, why he’d felt so comfortable with her!

He remembered… he remembered…

His heart missed a beat as he contemplated the consequences. How would Lana take a revelation like this? This was bad… very bad.

How do I tell her? He just had to do it. He couldn’t not tell her. Regretfully, he shook Lana awake.

“Lana? Honey, we need to talk.”

“Mmffff… six more minutes…”

“It’s important.”

An eye opened grudgingly. “Everything you say is important to me. But I was hoping to sleep in, tonight.”

“Alright. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” She kissed his hand and went back to sleep. “I love you, my Knave.”

*

Chapter Text

Lana felt like someone had shattered her world. Vajra’s confession had left her feeling like she’d had her legs cut out from under her. Like she’d just been told that the lovely, scrumptious cake someone had baked her, had been poisoned from the start.

“I need to—” she stumbled out of the bed. She was so upset, that she closed herself off, prepared to sever their tie for good. “I need to go—”

“Lana—”

“Don’t stop me!”

“I won’t. But please—don’t hurt yourself.”

Lana’s rage cooled a little. She heard the unspoken ‘I don’t care if you hurt me,’ in his voice. He was worried about her. She took a few deep breaths, then sighed. “I… I have to acknowledge your telling me this. I know it can’t have been an easy decision.”

“Being honest with you is easy,” Vajra insisted.

Lana chuckled. “Still, you must have predicted it would unsettle me. Yet you chose to tell me. I acknowledge that. I appreciate it.”

“I don’t want you to feel forced. To do anything.”

“Of course. Thank you for respecting my freedom.” But do I really have that? Freedom? Did everything happen, because the stinking Force preordained it?

This relationship of ours always was an unlikely romance. It needed several big shockwaves to be pushed into the realm of possibility. Something helped us. Forced us. The Force… the flaming Force!

“Despite my anger, I can’t be angry at you. You’re trying to do right by me. Don’t worry. I promise, I won’t hurt myself. Or you.”

“Thank you.”

“I need some time. To think.”

“I’ll wait. However long you want, I’ll wait. If you decide that you want to end things… well, that’s okay. I will try to work with you, professionally, until this threat has been ended. I won’t think less of you.”

Lana smiled at that. Pulling on a few thick boots and a poncho, and a hat over her head and ears, she stepped out into the night. She made straight for the nearby river.

She didn’t think until she got there. She passed by house after house, acknowledging the simple construction that blended into the surroundings. Her gaze lingered on the Cathedral, which was operating normally now.

The act of listening calmed her down a little. By the time she reached the river’s edge, she was much calmer, though still quite shaken.

What should I do now? She sat down on a stone bench and decided to meditate. An idea came to her head. She needed someone else’s perspective on this, someone who understood her and her core beliefs. Right now, that meant only one person in the entire galaxy.

She needed to look within.

*

Lana entered a world full of dull grays. Light seemed to lose its reason for living just reflecting off the stark, minimalist surfaces. No wind flowed through here, no water splashed or bubbled. It all made her deeply uncomfortable. Unconsciously, she reached for her Bond, and reluctantly let the wonder of life back into her. The effect was instantaneous: the lushest green grass and flowers with internal lanterns began to grow at her feet. Little, multicolored fireflies began circling her, and butterflies began to flit around her ankles, trailing rainbows in their wake. The beating of their frail wings finally got a gentle breeze in this dystopian landscape.

“Alright, I get it,” she told herself. “Pragmatism is a good work ethos, but terrible as a life mantra.”

“You said it, not me.”

“Ah, there you are.” Lana turned towards the voice and immediately felt confusion halt her in her tracks. “Wh—why are you hanging upside down?”

The laughing woman was suspended from thin air, in tight, elastic bonds. She had her usual wide grin on her face. Her long, black hair was pointed straight at the ground. “Oh, me? I’m just a little capricious. You know that!”

“But… but hanging upside down? Why? Is this some… fetish?”

“I… I guess? I dunno. It’s fun.”

“Would you mind untangling yourself? I wanted to have a serious discussion.”

“Oh, I know alright. I heard it all, you know. I’ve got your pretty ears, and your juicy connection to Vajra.”

Lana sighed. “Come down. Stand up. Please?”

“Oh, alright. If you insist.” The woman freed herself in moments and neatly flipped so she landed on her feet.

“Neatly done.”

“You can do it too, you know.”

“Not anymore. I’ve not done this kind of thing in years.”

“But you do work out. And you’re quite young. A few weeks, and you’ll have our old, fluid agility back. Just don’t expect to be as nimble as the boyfriend.”

“Ah yes. ‘The Boyfriend.’ Just what I wanted to talk about.”

“What’s there to talk about? You’re in a deeply passionate and romantic relationship with the nicest, sweetest being we’ve ever met.”

“But was it my choice to do so? You heard what he said! He knew who I was before we even officially met! I helped him defeat the Emperor, or a simulacrum of me did! He saw me in visions that clearly told him that we were going to get together! He—”

“It’s alright. Let it all out.”

“I—I don’t know what to do! I love him, but… but… but…”

“You’re starting to have doubts,” the smiling woman finished. “You wonder, if your love for each other was manufactured. If you have any say at all, in this.”

“Exactly! I can’t even… I can’t even destroy this damn Bond! I can’t bring myself to!”

“That doesn’t prove you have no free will, if you ask me. You’re hesitating before throwing away what looks like the best thing that ever happened to us.”

She had a point there. “I’m not the Force’s pawn. I make my own decisions. My own rules. Not some Darth, not any Dark Councilor, not the Emperor… not even Vajra. I love him because I choose to. Or not.”

“What do you choose?”

“I don’t know. It’s like I wasn’t allowed to choose. Now that I’m with him, I can’t turn away. Not unless something monstrously big happens.”

“He’s not to blame. I hope you realize that.”

“Of course, I do! He’s so artless and open… unlike us. Unlike the secrets we hide from him.” She laughed, all of a sudden feeling a surge of self-hatred. “Do you think that’s why I hate this? Because he deserves better than us? Under ordinary circumstances, he wouldn’t be attracted to us?”

“That might be part of it, but your anger stems from your perceived threat to our independence.”

“Right. The Force… I am not its servant. It is mine.”

“Debatable. The Force is bigger than you.”

“Doesn’t stop me from controlling it.”

“It allows you to. Or at least, that’s Jedi philosophy. Vajra’s philosophy.”

“I’m not him. I’m Sith.”

“Of course. Don’t ever change that. But from what I can tell, there is some truth to his perspective, in this case. Why would it bother putting the two of you together anyway? From what you told me, this vision of yours doesn’t say your love is important. Or even your children. Just that one event in time, where he’s meeting with all those happy people.”

“While that is true—”

“Besides, maybe there’s something else we need to consider. Do you remember when ‘we’ first met him? Face-to-face, I mean?”

“It was on Alderaan. The almost-date.”

“Exactly. That was the moment when we realized our year gave us feelings for him. And him for us, too. The Visions and shit came afterwards, once the sapling of those feelings had already been planted. Not before. It’s just as possible the future we’re heading for, was born of this love.” The woman’s smile twisted. “That… sounds so fucking cheesy! Please hit me! No, wait. Ask Vajra to do it. Not my face, my butt will do.”

Lana ignored her alter-ego wagging her posterior, and thought about those words. “It’s unconvincing. Sweet, romantic, and like something out of a fairy tale. But unconvincing.”

“You’re no fun at all. Except when Vajra’s nearby, that is. You happily let down your hair for him. No one told you to. Not even the Force. He won your heart—our heart—by himself. You remember how, don’t you? All those little presents he left us. All the letters we exchanged.”

“That was you, not me.”

“I am simply a mask you once wore. A lie.”

“You were real enough for him. It might hurt him when we tell him that.”

“Or, it might make things clearer for him. Come on, Love! We know him better than he knows himself! You really think he’d feel cheated?”

“Well… no, I suppose not.” Lana sighed heavily.

The smiling woman nudged her, and pointed to the landscape around her. “Look,” she said.

The whole world had turned into a bright painting, full of life and vigor. The austere structures had been decorated now, statues and features having grown out of their bleak pillars. A magnificent spring had come to life nearby, and it filled the world with clear, cool, crystal water. Animals roamed the Dreamscape, and some people too. Birds sang in trees and atop pillars. Quite unrecognizable from the earlier ordered deadness.

“If this is what our boy Vajra does for you, I think you should take it. Regardless of where it comes from. He loves you, and you love him. That’s all that matters. Doesn’t it?”

“Yes. Yes, it does.”

“That settles it, then. Seize the day. And your man. A love like yours… you won’t find it again in your life, even if you live a thousand years. And about that stupid imposter syndrome of yours… so fucking what, if you don’t deserve him? You’re what he wants. What he craves, even. Can’t you feel his hunger? I can. It’s why I’ve gotten so horny, lately.”

“You always were more amorous than I.”

“I was a mask, after all. But a mask that couldn’t contradict who you were. Not without your permission. I slept around a little, flirted a lot, because you required it. I was goofy and passive-aggressive because you wanted me to be.”

“And you had thick skin. You would never have blushed at Jasme’s teasing.”

“You’re a lucky girl, you know that? I wish I could meet the glory of the Shans.”

“I am where you put me.”

“And I’m here because you made me. So, what are you going to do?”

Lana thought about it. “Whatever I want. And I want to be with him, no matter what brought us together.”

“Good. I’ll be watching, and thinking it’s my name he’s screaming as you ride him to the galaxy’s edge and back. Ta, now!”

Lana lingered for a moment after the other woman melded into the shadows. She tugged on the Bond, and filled it with her renewed pride and determination. She also gave him a taste of how this colorful world made her feel. Of what their love made her feel. She felt his relief and joy in response.

Come, she Sent, and knew he would be by her side in moments.

She left the Dreamscape, intending to come back to it when she could. It took her nearly a minute to emerge from her trance. Vajra was waiting in front of her, on his knees and holding her hands.

Lana smiled right back at him, forgetting her inner world at once. This was the world she wanted. A world with the love of her life gazing into her eyes.

*

“Welcome back,” Vajra said with a teary smile.

“You’re beautiful,” Lana said, and kissed his nose. “Come here.”

He accepted her constrictor embrace with only a teasing squeak. “I’m choking. Heavens, I think I like it! I think we need to try this in… situations…”

“I love you,” Lana told him, ignoring the teasing. “I don’t care who conspired to put us here. My feelings are my choice, and mine alone.”

“Of course, they are. Nothing can control Lana.”

“Well, I give you permission to. How does that sound?”

“You—you’re giving me an early birthday present?”

“Yes. My life is yours. Nothing held back.”

“You… you really don’t have to.”

“I know. That’s the beauty of it!” Lana’s smile was fierce. “And don’t tell me I’m the only one sharing her most precious treasure in this scenario. What’s Rudra’s final edict, again? ‘Don’t surrender your soul’?”

“A little more flowery than that. But in essence, yes. But you can have mine.”

“I already do, my Knave.” She gave their Bond a slight squeeze. He flinched and blushed, then smiled. “You are mine. Mine, you hear me? I already marked you, after all.”

“Yes, you did.” He kissed her neck. “Would you like to turn in again? Unless you want another round. You’re brimming with energy.”

“I am, aren’t I? But… I want something else right now, something more profound.”

“Name it.”

“Vajra… allow me to Feel you. And Feel me, in turn. Wait, that sounds dirty, doesn’t it? I mean, through the Force. I want to experience our love through just the Bond. With everything else closed off.”

“How do we do that?”

“We unite our hearts, as we did during our last little session. I don’t know how, without sex.”

“Maybe…”

“Yes?”

“I think I have a way.” He took out his Lightsabers. All of them, then nodded for her to do the same. “I did this… thing once. Where I wanted some answers, and no book or Holocron had one for me. I meditated on my Lightsaber crystals. The blades.”

“You meditated—?”

“Yes. I coaxed the crystals into one, cohesive chorus, then let them guide me where I needed to go. That was how I found the inspiration for my Rath form.”

“Is that right?”

“I sought wisdom. And I found it. This time…”

“This time, we seek our souls.”

“I meditated on my Master’s crystal last time. This one.” He flexed his primary Lightsaber. “But maybe we should use the Keleth stone for this occasion, and your Lightsaber crystal. The one you purified during your trial. They bear traces of our soul, after all. Let me do it. You join in.”

“Alright.” Lana kept her Lightsaber hilt on top of his, then covered all five with her hand. Vajra leaned forward, and Lana mirrored him. Their foreheads touched again, and she closed her eyes.

“Listen,” he said softly. “To the song of the crystals. Can you hear them?”

“I can’t… no, wait. Yes… yes, I can!”

“Good. Now listen, as I guide the separate songs into one, strong melody. Let it fill your heart and soul. Follow me, as we explore the depths of this siren song…”

Lana Listened. And through Listening, she Saw. She Smelled. She Tasted. She Touched.

But how could one even begin to describe the experience, of staring at literal love right in the face? When she tried to write it down in her journal later, she realized she had no words for it. It was like a block existed, somewhere between her brain and her fingers, which interfered with all attempts at journalling.

She felt a strong mixture of peace, hope, contentment, acceptance, and delight take physical form. She could see, feel, smell, and hear it. It was like standing on the bow of a ship with her arms outstretched.

The spray and surf rejuvenated her skin. The wind, though cool, was refreshing.

The scent the wind brought her was of a coniferous forest that played with the first frost of a kindly winter. She could smell the pine trees and mountain flowers, the lush, dew-covered meadows, and sparkling rivers and lakes.

She could see the entire universe in front of her; an infinitely massive collection of stars and galaxies that should have stretched out in front of her, but also had the shape of a four-armed humanoid who held her close, accepting every little detail about her, no matter how much she herself hated it.

She could see rainbows and auroras gently kaleidoscoping in and out of existence. A light rain fell, each drop containing a world of silver and precious gems. Fountains rose into the heavens all around her as her vessel skipped forward, ever forward, towards that one star that was a constant throughout the ever-changing galaxy.

A star she called Vajra, and which he called Lana. For this was a vision they both shared. They were in this together, now and forever.

I wish we could travel these ethereal star trails together, my Knave. Forever.

Maybe we should. Even if circumstances force us apart again, perhaps our Bond will remain. Perhaps our hearts will always be on this journey. To infinity.

Yes. To infinity.

The two of them reveled in how they could hear each other’s thoughts now. Their journey inwards had taken them closer, it seemed. All was perfect in the universe, even if it was just for a moment.

*

When the couple rose, they realized that the sun was entering its midmorning quadrant. Vajra quickly checked his chrono.

“I wouldn’t have been surprised if we’d been here a few weeks,” he chuckled.

“Or longer. I suppose I’m glad it was just a few hours. Theron and the others are expecting us, after all.”

“Right. But we have a few days till then. Got something you want to do?”

Lana considered, then shook her head. “Not today, Love. I think we can have a lazy day for a change. Maybe we can discuss our next date tomorrow.”

“I like that. Come on. Maybe we can rent a boat. Laze around in the lake.”

“Lazing for a day sounds good.”

*

Chapter Text

*

The next morning

Vajra began his morning in his favorite way; exercise. An hour of free-running practice, followed by an hour and a half spent practicing the Forms.

He ended with a thirty-minute-long meditation session.

He Listened to the various sounds brought to him on the Currents of the Force. He opened his third eye, Seeing beyond the mundane world, and into the spiritual.

The Force was always in motion, and thus, the pictures and tunes he saw were ever-changing. Sometimes, he could make out small details from what hung before him, in the foggy cloud of his mind’s eye. He could rarely tell if he was staring into the past, present, or future.

Sometimes, the things he saw were more metaphorical or thematic in nature, not tied to reality, but suggestions and possibilities.

That was what he saw today.

He stood in a dark cave, with a single, oil lamp in his hand. Water dripped down around him, down from the stalactites hanging from above, forming pools around the stalagmites below. The air was heavy, pressed down by not only tons and tons of earth, but memories too. Each surface seemed to be an illustrated page out of a book. Each drip-drop was a whisper of a forgotten conversation.

None of it was comprehensible to him. Much like trying to make sense of a multitude of voices, or discerning thumbnails from twenty meters away.

Fireflies and glowbugs helped illuminate the air, along with a few species of bioluminescent mushrooms.

Vajra made his way to through the tunnel without incident, which eventually opened up into a giant, open cavern. It was full of pine trees. Icy water emerged from a spring and fed three small rivers. Bats, rabbits, owls, dwarf deer, wild cats, and other small animals played in the shrubs and trees.

Cool, gentle moonlight lit the tableau, giving it a serene, ethereal beauty.

And there, on a slab of stone in the center of the cave, sat a woman with dusky blue skin, and eight arms. Her long, dark hair was tied in a single braid that rested on her lap. Vajra walked up to her.

“Who are you?” he asked. “Where am I? What am I doing here?”

The woman looked at him with ancient eyes. She stood, and got closer to Vajra. She held a trident in one hand, while the rest were free. She had a sword at her hip, but her recurve bow and quiverful of arrows were left close to where she had been sitting. The mound she’d been resting against stirred and rose, and Vajra realized that it was a mighty warbeast. Some species of tiger, if he wasn’t mistaken—no, given the setting, this had to be a baghra. From Raudraksha.

And the one he was looking at…

“You know who I am, don’t you, Son? Child of Rudra.”

“Yes, Great One. You are Adi Shakti, the great goddess of our race. The personification of the Force.”

“You don’t have to bow to me. They consider you a great god too. Or an avatar of one.” He could not help but notice the gently humorous tone in her voice.

“I’m no god—”

“Stand,” she insisted. “Please.”

Vajra obeyed. The entity dipped an empty basin in the water and held it before him. Remembering the ancient custom, he gathered water to wash his face, feet, and hands.

“There. Sit. We have some things to discuss.”

He sat on the rugs she had indicated, which had conveniently appeared opposite her own seat. “Is this… Kailasha?”

She looked around. “You could call it that, certainly. This is not what that mountain really looks like, however.”

“Got it.” They were speaking in Basic, rather than Raudra.

“I am always watching. It is my gift and my curse. I watch, listen, and remember. Naturally, I have watched you, your entire life.” She pushed a small bowl of dried fruits in his direction. He took a few figs and began munching on them. “You have lived admirably; despite the many dark corners your path has twisted through. You have lived a life of service. Of duty. Of conscience. You have faltered a few times, there’s no denying that, but you always find your way back to your true nature. So far, in any case.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, the universe has a way of changing people. Past what they once were. You might one day decide to give up the mantle of champion. Live your life as a simple farmer, or cowherd. Or, you could become a king. A tyrannical one. You could drown many worlds in blood; under your own steam, this time.”

“I will never—”

“That doesn’t seem likely, but it’s not impossible either.”

Vajra found it hard to argue with a personification of the Force. It knew things he never would.

“I have seen many lose their way. Or change their minds. Revan, for instance. The Revan of three centuries ago was a strong man, who would never have resorted to genocide. But such lengthy solitary confinement, all of it in darkness and pain, wounded his sanity. Another example is the one you call the Sith Emperor. While immortality was always his goal, he eschewed things like Empire-building or wars. He stuck to mysticism and studies until he performed the ritual that made him the being you slew. You too, will change. You already have, several times. But you are still not the man you need to be, to protect those you love from what will come. Soon.”

“The Emperor. He’s still out there.”

“Yes.” She approached him again, and knelt in front of him. She stroked his hair kindly, like a mother would her trembling child. “You have come so far, my Son. But you need more. You need to change and grow. To that purpose, I want you to return to your roots.”

“My roots?”

“Yes.” She stood, and placed a hand on his brow. “I hereby decree that your exile is lifted. Return home. Seek out your purpose there. Find what you must do, to initiate the next step in your growth.”

“I understand, Great One.”

“You may bring your beloved with you, unless she chooses otherwise.”

“Where must I go?”

“Follow your heart. You will know, when you get there.”

“As you command.”

The entity surprised him by embracing him. “My greatest wish is for my children to thrive and be happy. I hope you succeed in your task, my Son. This one, and your life’s work. It will bring peace not only to yourself and your loved ones, but to many billions around you. Stay strong. Trust in your friends. Trust in the Force.”

*

Lana could Sense that something was happening. Vajra’s meditation had ended in a revelation, of a sort. She could somewhat follow the exchange between him and the entity that had seized his full attention. It scared her a little, but also roused her curiosity.

She ached to get all the details through their connection, but they had both agreed not to overuse that link. It was fun to talk, after all.

“What happened?” she asked him the second the door opened. He entered slowly, and took to look around, to ensure that everyone was there before speaking. He picked Lana up in his four arms and sat her down on his lap. “Is it that serious?” She teased.

“Lana… T7. HK. I’ve been invited home. To Raudraksha. Any of you want to come with me?”

*

Chapter Text

14 ATC,
Raudraksha

Vajra, Lana, and even T7 were watching with rapt attention as the Phoenix pulled out of Hyperspace. To say they were all curious about Vajra’s homeworld, was an understatement.

Lana and T7 both cared deeply for the four-armed alien, enough to feel chills when his people were mentioned. Vajra himself hadn’t been here since he was a little boy. Too young to remember more than snatches of memory.

And what little he did remember was undoubtedly warped by nostalgia. He certainly didn’t remember what it looked like from orbit.

The world was quite blue, with a large landmass along the equator. You could see the many mountains, rivers, lakes, and forests from space.

Vajra didn’t know what to feel, but Lana placed a hand on his shoulder and whispered, “Give it time,” then kissed his cheek. Resting her head against his shoulder, she went on, “It’s normal for emotions to just stop dead for a time, in response to surprise or uncertainty. Or apprehension. You’ll feel better when they’ve had some time to sort themselves out.”

<T7 = thinks Raudraksha = beautiful!>

“Thanks, guys.”

Vajra allowed himself to wait, as Lana suggested, and felt the awe and anticipation almost knock him senseless; as if the lack of emotion had been the receding before the tsunami. He found himself staring at the land, eager to take it all in.

As they entered the atmosphere, he could see the terrain with better clarity. He thought he could see the outline of the nearby major city in the distance. He felt quite excited. According to the map which Jasme had given him, that was Jnanaprastha, the capital of the Raudra. But that was not his destination; not today.

He allowed the Force to guide him, taking the Phoenix to the foothills of mountain range some distance away from the capital.

‘Here,’ the voice said, and he set the ship down as close to the site as possible. He instantly Sensed a wrongness in their immediate surroundings. Darkness.

“The Dark Side hangs low,” Lana said. “Despite the passage of time.”

“Yes. I wonder if Bellicose was more potent than people thought he was.”

“Either that, or the pain he wrought is what lingers. I’ll follow discreetly. Do what you’ve come here to. And take HK with you, since you don’t have a protocol droid. Just in case.”

“Statement: I have downloaded the files on Raudra customs, language, current events, history, and geography. I stand ready to serve.”

“Thank you, HK.”

Vajra stepped out into the air, feeling the light of his home’s sun for the first time in over twenty years. The sky looked like it might rain later, or snow. The ground was covered in a thin film of frost, and he saw more than a few animals flit about in thick winter coats. A snow leopard emerged from the drift to study him. He could Sense its curiosity.

He Stretched out, and conveyed his peaceful intentions. It came closer, still cautious, and sniffed at his legs before darting away.

Vajra began to move forward, drawn by the Force’s whisper. He continued to push his Senses out as far as they could stretch. At the back of his mind, he Sensed Lana keeping pace with his trek. But beyond her, he Sensed a few other sentient minds. His people were nearby, and might have seen him land. There was little he could do about it right now. He’d deal with them if he met them before his task was done. With luck, they would advance cautiously.

He heard a weak scream ring out from the light mist. “Did you hear that?” he asked HK.

“Confused Query: Hear what, Master?”

“I just heard a scream… there it is, again!”

“Report: My auditory sensors pick up nothing, Master.”

“Then it might be the Dark Side at work? Lovely.”

He edged forward, suddenly much more cautious. He followed the screams to a stone shelf, beneath which a child hid. She trembled from head to toe, clearly frightened out of her wits.

“Hello,” Vajra said gently, his tongue stumbling slightly over his native Raudra. “Whatever it is that you run from, I can protect you.”

“Statement: I see nothing, Master.”

Vajra nodded at the droid, but kept his eyes on the child. It was a girl, he thought. Around three or four years old. And she looked very, very familiar. “Shreya?” he asked.

“How you know?”

“I am your older brother,” he answered, feeling a chill as he did. “I’m Vajra.”

“Vajla¹?”

“Yes. Whom do you hide from?”

“The angy man,” she whimpered. “He no nice! He like to hurt me! He make me cry!”

“Can I come closer?” he asked. He waited for her to nod before moving close. He gently placed his arms around her, and drew her out of her hiding place. She didn’t resist him; rather, she yearned for the perceived safety of an adult’s arms.

Vajra felt a deep pang of loss when the reality hit him. This girl would have been twenty-four years old now. What life might she have lived, had it not been so cruelly cut short? Perhaps a teacher, weaver, artist, dancer, hunter, warrior, leader, wife, mother, or more.

The question made him think on all the deaths he’d ever witnessed. And the ones he’d caused. He felt a deep wound stir in his heart. Lana stirred too, and roused his soul into protecting itself from his guilt. Vajra rose, child still in his arms.

“Well, look at this! Another freak!” a gleeful, deep voice said. This one spoke in Basic. Vajra turned to see a human in black armor. A Lightsaber with a blazing red blade burned in his hand. Unlike most Lightsabers, it gave off thick clouds of smoke. It burned, more like a brand than a blade. The human was white as chalk and bald as a smooth stone. He had a skull-like tattoo of red ink on his ghostly face. His eyes were alight with bloodlust.

“Bellicose, I presume?” Vajra asked dispassionately.

“Ah, so this one knows my fearsome reputation!”

“I know you’re dead. Killed by a Raudra. An old centenarian from a primitive world. Well done.”

The man’s face contorted in rage. “Your death will be painful.”

“Perhaps. But not by your hands. I’ve killed hundreds of your kind, even the likes of Darth Angral and Malgus. I’ve even killed your Emperor on Dromund Kaas. You, pathetic little bully, can do me no harm.”

“What?” The ghost recoiled. “The Emperor is dead?”

“Can’t you Sense it? Or is your power that weak? I imagine you were trying to compensate for something, targeting only those who couldn’t fight back. Either way. I’m better trained than my people. If you come forward, I will destroy your ghost.”

The shade was trembling now, courage having left him. “The Emperor… he really is dead! I can’t Sense him! And you… you killed him?”

“That’s right.”

“You lie… you lie!”

“Come forward and test that theory.” Vajra didn’t know why, but he was absolutely certain he could hurt this shade. And it was clear it seemed to think so, too. It backed away slowly, its pace quickening as Vajra began to march forward. He didn’t draw his weapon, nor flex his meager strength in the Force. But he did test the Flows in the Force by opening his third eye. He saw a huge Shatterpoint that marked where the ghost’s connection to the living world was—it was already fraying and brittle thanks to fear and doubt—and disrupted it with a sharp thrust. The ghost screamed and vanished like fog in the morning sunlight.

It was pitifully short for such a malignant evil.

“He gone!” Shreya sobbed. “He gone!”

“Yes. See? Your big brother keeps his promise.”

“He been hurting us for long time!”

“He can’t anymore. Who’s ‘us’? Where is everyone else?”

The girl pointed. Vajra turned around, but could not see. She pointed again, insistently, and They began to appear. They did not have proper form, like she did. They were hazy and amorphous, like the weakest of shadows.

They spoke in a united whisper. “We are free…” “At long last, we are free!” “Thank you!” “Thank you!”

Many evaporated once they’d spoken, but the girl clung to him. She sobbed hard, like she was finally allowed to give voice to decades of pain. Vajra cradled her in his arms.

“It’s okay, it’s okay! Your older brother is here. I’m here as long as you need me.” He kissed her brow, then her cheek, then held her close to his chest. He could feel the moment of parting approaching, and he didn’t want to let go. He wanted to save at least this one child from oblivion.

Why had he waited so long? Why hadn’t he come sooner? He could’ve cut everyone’s suffering in half, if he’d made the trip here within the first few months of receiving his Knighthood!

Lana approached him, and placed her arms around them both. She was still Cloaked, but even if she hadn’t embraced him, Vajra was well aware of her position at any given time.

Several shadows did not dissipate. They approached him with the gait of crippled and maimed soldiers. But their injuries seemed to vanish as they stepped forward. And their forms became stronger and more visible.

He recognized them all, as he thought he might.

His mother was the first to reach him, stumbling up to him and holding onto him for dear life. “Vajra!” she exclaimed. “It’s my boy! My little Vajru has come and saved us!”

His father embraced him as well, still as wordless in death as he had been in life. His second mothers and eldest sister were the last to enter the tangle.

It was only then that he realized that he was quite a bit shorter than everyone, except Trilochana.

“Come with me,” Shruthi tugged at his arm, letting go reluctantly after five minutes.

He followed the ghostly procession through the terrain, which looked much friendlier without the ghost of Bellicose hanging around close by. But the Darkness wasn’t gone. Not yet.

“You’ve saved us all,” Jamuna said. “Somehow… somehow, he kept us here. Stopped us from moving on.”

“He hated dying,” Shruthi said, “And he wanted to make everyone understand that.”

“Where is Aparajitha?” Vajra asked. Everyone looked at each other.

“He was not caught along with us,” Mother said at last. “Perhaps the preta was unwilling to contest with his killer again.”

“A coward, through and through,” Vajra said through gritted teeth. He saw a large rock up ahead, something that had been jammed into the ground, and realized where they were going. But as he approached, he Sensed people taking up positions around him. Fifteen of them close by, with another group—noncombatants, probably—ready to flee. He decided not to test their strength. Not that he had any thoughts of failing, but he did not want to fight his own people on his first encounter with them in decades.

But he did place his hands on two of his Lightsabers.

“HOLD!” came a strong, masculine voice. “Stay where you are!”

Vajra did as commanded. He didn’t need to look around; he knew exactly where everyone was.

“What is your name!?” the voice called out again. Vajra had difficulty understanding their rapid speech, but turned in the direction of the voice and opened his third eye. White as the heart of a lightning bolt, unlike most Raudra eyes.

Although the woods remained silent, there was a loud gasp in the Force.

Eventually, someone blurted, “An Avatar of our Father?!”

Twelve Raudra leapt out of the trees and ran to him. The one in the lead was an adult male, and at his side was a woman who looked vaguely familiar. They slowed down when they saw the ghostly form in his arms, but began peppering him with questions.

“Can you speak a little slower? I’m not used to speaking this tongue, anymore.” Vajra requested them. Or tried to. His Raudra was not good enough to manage such a large sentence without mistakes and stumbles.

At least I can still speak it.

The Raudra shared a shocked glance, then went one at a time. And slowly.

“What is your name?” the familiar-looking woman asked. The leader asked, “What tribe do you belong to?” “Why are you alone out here?” asked a third. “How did you receive Rudra’s blessing?” “Where did you receive that beautiful attire?” “Where are your weapons?”

After struggling with his words for a bit, Vajra tried to answer. “I think you know the answers to all those questions. I am Vajra, of the Devarath.”

There was another moment of shock. Some looked at each other with anxiety, many others with awe. But the woman stepped forward with tears filling her large eyes. “Vajra?”

“Yes.” Vajra did not shrink away from the woman’s fingers.

The leader stopped the woman, who looked ready to embrace him like she too, was lost family. “You were exiled,” he said, looking reluctant at having to say so. “You said you were called away by a voice you could not ignore.”

Vajra took a moment to interpret those words. “I was led back here by that same voice. By Adi Shakti. This was my sister, Shreya.” He indicated the child in his arms, who was looking around cautiously, but not in distress.

“‘Was’?” the woman asked.

“Yes. She died over twenty years ago. I was about to uncover her body.” Vajra reached out a hand. The rock ahead of him began to tremble. A little more effort, and it sprang out of the dirt like a cork out of a bottle. There, splattered and squashed between the rock and the mud, was a corpse of a young child that had clearly been crushed to death. Shreya’s ghost took one look at it and began to sob again. This time, she reached for her own mother, who took her into her arms.

“Thank you, my son,” Shruthi whispered, briefly becoming visible to the rest of their people, who yelped and leapt back. One of the three still in hiding accidentally loosed an arrow at Vajra, but he caught it without turning around, and handed it to the startled leader.

“Be well, Vajra,” Mother hugged him tightly, and he returned her embrace for the last time in his life. “Thank you for freeing us,” said Trilochana. Father signed <You have grown into a good man. I am grateful.> Shruthi kissed him, and allowed Shreya to do the same. Jamuna brushed his hair fondly. One by one, the ghosts folded their arms before him and disappeared, leaving a dull void in Vajra’s heart. Emotion almost made him double over, but he suppressed it, for now. But he also reveled in it. He reveled in the freedom to love and mourn his family.

After a moment, he sighed and turned back to the living. “I’m sorry. You were saying…?”

Many of the Raudra looked completely stupefied. They didn’t look like they could speak.

“Perhaps we could try again,” Vajra attempted. “My name is Vajra. What are your names?”

Slowly, the introductions began.

“We are of the Veerabhadra,” the leader said. “I am Kuberan. We will take your sister’s remains back to Jnanaprastha. We will see to her final rites.”

“Thank you.”

“I am Sukanya,” the familiar woman said with a wan smile. “I was chosen as your adoptive mother twenty-one summers ago. I held you during your first encounter with the Jedi. I still see myself as your rightful mother.”

Vajra did not know what to say to that. “It’s… it’s really nice to meet you again. I don’t remember much from those days.”

“I’m not surprised,” Sukanya laughed sadly. “You looked like a living ghost. It was my hope that you’d recover, someday. With my help.”

“I’m sorry you never got that chance.”

He waited for everyone else to be introduced before Kuberan brought up his question again. “Pardon me, Great One. But why have you returned home after leaving? Your return is not permitted under our law.”

“I am no longer Raudra, that is true. I am here as a Jedi. The Force has called me here—what we call Shakti, or the Gift. She appeared to me in a vision, and said that my Exile is briefly lifted. I do not yet know why. I never thought I’d walk the land where I lost my family.”

“This is a blighted land,” a woman named Sujatha shivered. “People traveling through this land are prone to injuries and bad luck. The air is still, like a mad bear lurks behind every shadow. People hear voices—screams of abject terror—”

Somewhere along the way, Vajra lost his ability to keep up. He made a subtle gesture to HK, who began providing the translation directly into his earpiece.

“Bellicose,” Vajra whispered. “The Sith who killed the four tribes. He refuses to move on, despite the death of his flesh. I’ve sent him away for the time being, but that won’t be enough. Where is his body?”

The Raudra stared at him in renewed wonder. It was only now that he realized how different it was to see a white third eye, for everyone here had three dark ones. Seeing them, hearing them, thinking about them… it felt strange looking at so many of his own people. Far too used was he to strangers, than his own kind.

“His body was entombed over there,” Kuberan pointed. “Or what was left of it. Aparajitha’s attack left him charred beyond recognition. The only reason we knew he wasn’t one of us was the strange armor he still wore.”

“And his arms,” Chandra added.

“What will you do with his remains?” Sukanya asked.

“I will take them away. Dispose of them someplace. That should be enough to get rid of his curse.” Exorcisms were a tricky business for ghosts of those who had been powerful in life, but Bellicose wasn’t such a Sith. Vajra had already confirmed that his anchor to this world was what was left of his body. Tossing them into some random star would be enough to stop him from bothering someone ever again.

“What of his possessions?” Sukanya asked. “His armor is still on him, but his weapon is not. It was taken away, and placed in Aparajitha’s alcove.”

“Has there been any problem in Jnanaprastha?”

“No, Great One,” Kuberan said. “But it does make us uneasy when we approach.”

“Will I be allowed to take a look at it? I might be able to solve the problem by just cleansing it.”

“You are an exile,” Kuberan looked down. “Although few wish that to be so. We are sorry.”

“I see. What if Tarsten is the one to make that request?”

“It… it will be highly frowned upon.”

“Then there is little I can do. But don’t worry. The… malice² in his Lightsaber crystal shouldn’t be enough to hurt anyone. Not by itself.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means, if someone were to pick it up, they might be influenced by its evil. Over time.”

Everyone looked at each other uneasily.

“Come,” Vajra said softly. “I’d like to lock Bellicose’s remains in my ship’s storage. We can talk after that’s done. Lana, HK, I think you can show yourselves.”

Lana and HK emerged from the trees, much to his people’s shock.

Lana bowed low and offered a courteous greeting³. “My name is Lana Beniko. I am Vajra’s companion. I was watching his back… though he’s perfectly capable of looking after himself. If his people possess a tenth of the wisdom and compassion he does, it will be my utmost honor if you would allow me in your company.”

“It is a pleasure to meet you, Outsider,” Sukanya said, lowering her bow.

“You meld into the shadows like you are one, yourself,” Kuberan whispered. “Not one of us noticed your presence.”

Lana smiled politely. “Thank you, kind sir.”

“Are you his wife?” Sukanya asked, looking more eager.

“No, madam.” She was clearly ready for that question, as her face didn’t even twitch. Vajra, however, was caught off-guard, and was glad no one was looking at him for the moment.

“And this is HK-51,” Vajra indicated the assassin droid. “Unlike the droids you met before, HK is programmed for combat. He is also capable of translating, however.”

“Greeting: It is a pleasure to meet you all, Masters. HK-51 stands ready to serve.”

“It is a shame that a living god cannot speak our tongue very well,” one of the older Raudra, Janavi, said in mild annoyance.

“Perhaps that’s indication for you to not treat me as a god then,” Vajra shrugged. “I haven’t been on our world since I was a boy. Skills rust, when not polished. And I have no one with me, who can speak in this tongue.”

“You are a living god, Great One,” Kuberan said pointedly, glaring at Janavi. “Everything about you is unprecedented, so we must not complain.”

“Please, just call me Vajra,” the Jedi said in embarrassment. “I’m just a simple man, no god.”

Lana’s face remained neutral, but Vajra could Sense her amusement through their Connection.

He followed the Raudra through the woods, answering their questions and asking his own, until they found a large stela.

“This was where a temple of Aparajitha was to be set up,” Kuberan sighed. “Since this was where his body was discovered. But the evil in this place did not allow us to do so. Our tribe was charged with patrolling this area, which is why we often come here.”

“That is where the Sith’s body is stored,” Sukanya said, pointing at a medium-sized coffin—more like a chest—some distance away from the stela. “We made sure to place every last bone and fragment of cloth.”

“Good.” Vajra studied the coffin and nodded. “It’s well-constructed. I don’t need to put it in another box.” He reached out and picked it up using the Force. “Come. I’ll take this to my ship. We can sit down and have a proper chat once this is safely in my cargo hold.” Reluctantly, he added, “I think this place should be fine now. Keep an eye on it for a few months, then begin setting up that Temple.”

Everyone nodded enthusiastically.

“There will be a celebration such as we’ve never seen,” Sukanya smiled.

“You will have to keep my involvement secret, however. Since explaining my presence might stir debate.”

That request was met with rather less enthusiasm.

*

The journey back to the Phoenix was quite a lively one. More Raudra joined them towards the end; servants who had stayed away from the potential danger, and runners who were ready to flee back to the city, if Vajra had proven dangerous.

Many plied Vajra with questions of his exploits, having been treated to nothing more than a few vague stories from Tarsten.

His defense of Coruscant and Tython were already well-known stories, thanks to Jasme, but that was ten years ago. So much had happened since then: Angral, the Emperor, Malgus, and so many others. He’d even led the Jedi during the war on Corellia.

He didn’t know where to begin.

So instead, he pressed his hosts with questions of Raudraksha; of a world he’d been forced to leave behind. When questioned more insistently, he told them about the many wonders of the galaxy, and of some of the interesting people he’d met over the years. Master Satele, Kairegane Rooks, Theron and Jasme Shan, Kira Carsen, the Voss… But everyone was most interested to hear his story.

“Allow me,” Lana suggested, then launched into a thrilling but brief retelling of his tale.

Her audience had been uncertain of her at first, but they warmed up as she spun the story—with a few strategic exaggerations, downplays, euphemisms, and metaphors—of Vajra’s many victories. The thing she downplayed most, was the number of people he’d killed. He was grateful for that.

“How much of that is true?” Sukanya asked in surprise.

“It’s true,” Vajra replied softly.

“You have truly experienced much, since you left,” an older warrior called Ujwala said.

Kuberan stirred. “We have not seen war in many years, yet you have won several. You have led armies larger than the population of Raudraksha. What even can we say about such magnificence?”

It’s quite common out there, Vajra thought quietly. But he didn’t say it out loud, at Lana’s suggestion. He realized that it was a bad idea to tell his people how small their world really was. It was the price one paid for traveling the galaxy, Vajra realized. Their sense of scale was changed. Under ordinary circumstances, most worlds were wide enough that people could live very comfortable, fulfilling lives.

After storing the remains in the cargo hold, they camped outside the ship. Vajra gave them a brief tour of the lounge, engine room, hyperdrive, and cockpit. All they understood was that everything in that ship was alien to them. He didn’t show them the bedroom, however, as he felt self-conscious about his people looking through his stuff. Why was that? Was he reluctant to show them how ordinary he really was? He couldn’t say for sure.

It’s not good to assume that there are no thieves and trophy-seekers among your people, Lana admonished. We keep our valuables under lock and key.

Or at least, that’s what he thought she said. Translation was still not perfect.

Camping out was a nostalgic experience for Vajra, who found memories of his past resurfacing as tents were pitched, food was cooked, and everyone sang, danced, and swapped tales in the fading embers of the campfire.

“Before we turn in, perhaps I may request a demonstration?” Kuberan asked.

“What kind?”

“I would like to see your skills, firsthand,” the war chief replied.

“Alright. But I’ll need one of your weapons.” He wasn’t willing to use the Lightsaber, as that would have granted him quite an advantage. Awe alone would be enough to make Kuberan hesitate. The sword he was given was about seventy centimeters long, with a thick, double-edged blade that flared at the tip. The metal had distinct mottled patterns, like flowing water. It shimmered in the fading light of the bonfire. The hilt—which was long enough for a two-handed grip—had a finger guard on one end. It was heavier than vibroblades that he had sometimes trained with, but a few swings got him used to it.

Once they were ready, the Raudra cleared a space for them. Vajra and Kuberan both stood still for the first seconds, before advancing at virtually the same instant. Blades clashed rapidly in midair before they both disengaged.

Kuberan seemed impressed. Vajra… wasn’t, though he tried not to show it. The man before him was undoubtedly skilled, but nothing could compare to all the hours of experience from a battlefield. After having crossed blades with the likes of Kavi Taa, or Darths Marr and Malgus, or even Master Satele and Kira in the training grounds, this was nothing. He wasn’t even using the Force.

With luck, he wasn’t broadcasting his thoughts.

The older Raudra attacked again, and this time, Vajra paid attention to the martial art. How his opponent moved, lunged, thrust, swept, danced, and disengaged. He realized he needed to reevaluate his rather arrogant first impression. While he still maintained that he was the better swordsman here, this man had spent his life training. And some of the movements seemed just as economical as the ones used by Jedi. Perhaps more so. If he could observe a little longer, he might be able to learn from him. Add elements of his swordplay to his own.

With that thought, he began to test the other man’s defenses, steadily increasing his attack speed and strength. Kuberan’s conservative attacks did not leave him too open, even when parried. Every so often, he threw in a heavier attack as well, but these were infrequent in order to confuse his opponent. Perhaps keep him on his toes. His footwork was exemplary. And his tactics were sound.

His defense on the other hand, wasn’t designed with someone like Vajra in mind. He wasn’t able to parry, aside from the first few slower, testing blows. Perhaps this was why the Jedi moved on from Shii-cho and invented Makashi, which was a better form for dueling.

Once he decided to get serious, Vajra switched his stance. He’d been using the former in his initial test, but the Contention Form was far better suited to a duel such as this. The shift in patterns threw off his opponent for a few heartbeats, but Vajra allowed him to regain his breath.

Once his opponent seemed to understand the new pattern of attacks, Vajra sped up again. His attacks were simple and orthodox at first, but he soon began to mix things up a bit. His parries turned into ripostes. Jabs turned into thrusts. He began controlling the momentum of the fight even when he was on the defensive. In ten minutes, he drew out the other Raudra’s reserves. Kuberan began attacking almost frantically, throwing a rapid series of powerful blows until he overextended. Vajra disarmed him and moved the sword to his chest in a single movement.

“I yield,” the older man conceded with a smile. He was panting hard, and sweat poured down his face. “My goodness! Never have I been bested that soundly before!”

“I should point out that your opponent was Vajra,” Lana spoke up. “He’s one of the best swordsmen in the galaxy. You’d probably be a match for many Jedi and Sith, on pure swordplay alone. I don’t think I could have fared as well. I had trouble keeping up with you at certain points.”

“But you could keep up with him?” a warrior asked. “I could only see a blur.” Many others agreed heartily.

“Kuberan is the best warrior in our tribe,” Sukanya explained. “Perhaps one of the best on Raudraksha. In this warband, only I can watch most of his movements.”

“Then you must be pretty good too,” Lana complimented her.

Sukanya grinned. “If not for Kuberan, I would be the best of our tribe. I spar with him daily, though our record is…”

“Seven hundred and twelve wins for me, three hundred and eighty-three for Sukanya.”

“That’s still quite good!”

“Thank you!”

The Raudra began to turn in, shortly afterwards. Their tents were not wholly like the ones Vajra had slept in as a child. These were meant for scouts and hunters, or travelers. But the bedding was the same. And the thick, woolen blanket.

As he drifted off to sleep under the tent they had been provided, he recalled his childhood again. He cried again, for maybe the tenth time today. From her bed in a women’s tent, Lana patiently comforted him through their Bond, though he could tell she was mildly amused that the ‘hero of the galaxy’ was such a crybaby.

I am not! She insisted. And you’re no crybaby. Anyone would be moved in your situation.

Right. Are you having a good time?

Yes. This was just what we needed for our next date.

Do you have any plans for tomorrow?

It’s not like I have an itinerary. Do you have something for me?

Yes. Sleep well. We rise early.

*

Chapter Text

*

The couple parted from their hosts at dawn.

“Must you leave already?” Sukanya asked sadly. “You could stay with us a few days. Learn more about your people.”

“I wish I could,” Vajra admitted. “Unfortunately, I have my own duty to fulfill. My exile has been lifted, but only temporarily. I cannot risk failing to complete my task here, before I’m asked to leave again.”

“We understand,” Kuberan was resolute. “I wish you could stay, for there are certain rituals and gifts you are due, since you came of age. Your marks are incomplete, for instance.” He indicated the tattoos on his own forearms and chest, which were much more intricate than Vajra’s. “You also need to be initiated.”

“Initiated?” Lana inquired.

“It is a ceremony,” Ujwala replied. “Which is usually done when our children reach the ages of twelve. Well. All children who are noble, priests, warriors, philosophers, merchants, and artisans. It is to mark their spiritual rebirth before they begin pursuing their vocation. Before they become students and apprentices.”

“They are also bestowed with a sacred mantra,” Sukanya said. “One which invokes the sun-god for grace. As the son of a warrior and a huntress, Vajra would have been expected to undergo this ritual, and presented to one of the Great Temples.”

“I don’t think that’s possible anymore,” Vajra felt quite sad as he said that. “I am an exile. If not for my… invitation, I wouldn’t even be here. Shouldn’t be.”

“Surely the lords and high priests will understand,” Sukanya said. “They will welcome you back, should you tell them your exile was lifted by the Mother herself!”

“If they believe me.”

“They will. They will have no choice.” Kuberan gently tapped Vajra’s third eye.

“Why do you keep it closed?” Janavi asked “Are you ashamed? Be proud of who you are.”

“It’s not shame,” Vajra looked at her. “Whenever I open it, I See beyond the ordinary.” Well, that was because he’d trained himself to. “I keep it closed, because the mortal world demands my attention.”

The answer seemed to surprise everyone. Vajra felt a little guilty.

“It is a gift from our Father!”
“It has to be!”

“Well, I’ll see what I can do. I will complete my task here. If I am allowed, I will visit Jnanaprastha afterwards.”

Everyone nodded, still looking impressed.

“Be well, my Son,” Sukanya made a blessing gesture.

“Thank you,” Vajra smiled. He felt a heaviness in his soul as they walked away. Something within was telling him that he might not meet another of his kind for a long time. Or at least, these people, some of who had pulled him out of the dead.

Lana placed a hand on his shoulder. He accepted her gesture for a few minutes, then spoke up reluctantly. “I’m ready.”

“So am I. It’s not far from here, so I should be able to get to Jnanaprastha and back again by afternoon, assuming everything goes off without a hitch.”

“Don’t push yourself too hard. I have no idea how long I’ll take.”

They both took speeders from the cargo hold. The ones Lana had stored in her Hutta cache were of the silent variety, all the better for stealth. Hers would come in handy—she should be able to get close to Jnanaprastha without anyone noticing.

As for Vajra, he felt pulled deeper into the mountains. Based on the direction, he suspected he was heading towards the Lake of the Enlightened. It was, at least according to the few stories he recalled from his childhood, a pristine lake upon whose surface not a single eddy or wrinkle could be found.

Perfect stillness.

Like the mind of a sage who had mastered his senses.

He realized he was right. His instinct led him right to a small islet in the middle of the lake, upon which a large tree grew. Vajra was fascinated by the tree, which seemed out of place in this cold clime, as it looked like it belonged in a rainforest rather than near mountains.

Had someone planted it here?

He walked around the tree once, observing its branches and crevices. He thought he might paint it later, when he got the chance.

Curiosity satisfied, he sat down underneath the shade and began to meditate. He focused his attention on the lake this time. The stories were true; the surface really was still as a mirror. With a start, he realized that it was also powerful in the Force. Looking deeper, he noticed that there were crystals growing deep in the depths. Crystals that sang like those used in Lightsaber; but different, somehow. Like the ones he’d seen on Tython, during his Trial of the Mirror.

When Vajra attempted to commune with them in his usual way, he felt like he was being welcomed into a paradise. He instantly felt a deep peace around him, gentle acceptance and love, a nurturing energy that made all of his anguish fade away; anguish which he had been dealing with, but which still troubled him.

It was like being in the company of excited dogs, friendly cats, energetic songbirds, playful rabbits, and other similar animals; it was impossible to not have your spirits lifted.

Hours after his worries and cares were leeched away from him, he felt himself open up to another Vision.

He was still on the islet in the lake, but the colors and scents were sharper. He was also, not alone. An old man sat on a rock at the water’s edge, with several small, colorful birds hovering around him. The man’s gray hair was dirty, long, matted, and thin. He was bent over from age, and clutched several thick shawls around his shoulders. He turned at Vajra’s approach, and the younger Raudra saw that his face was quite lined from age.

His lower eyes were grayish-green, while his third one was white.

“Ah… Vajra. I have been waiting for you.”

“Elder…”

“You don’t have to call me that. You have grown past what I can teach you. You dealt with that monster’s spirit so easily… I have no doubt you’d have defeated him just as quickly when he was alive.”

“It’s what I was trained to do.”

“I thought I was too. I thought I’d trained my whole life, to protect our people from wraiths and demons. Yet, when the time came, I failed everyone. All I could do was join the retreat, then watch as I allowed everyone to die.”

“It wasn’t your fault.”

The old Raudra snorted. “Do you remember that day?”

“Not very well. It was… chaotic.”

“That’s a good word for it.” He placed a hand on the water. Deep within, the crystals began to glow. Pictures formed on the water’s surface. Vajra was startled first, then fascinated.

“Can we do that in the waking world too?”

“Yes, but it’s not as quick and easy as I’m making it look. Some effort is required. Many of our people will be unable to do this. Now… tell me what you see.”

Vajra concentrated on the pictures. “I see… a falling star. It lit the sky red, like blood. When it landed, the world around it trembled.”

“Yes. We were quite a long distance away at the time, yet even we saw it fall. Felt its impact. I felt it deep in my soul. I felt this great foreboding in my heart. I had… a bad feeling about that star. We’d seen its like before, we’d mined precious metals and ores out of them; as a result, the tribes always tried to explore such sites when they could. I voiced my doubts—” The image on the water turned into a council, all of whom Vajra vaguely recognized. “—but when the others asked for more definite reasons to turn away, I could not say more than ‘I do not like it.’ Respectfully, they told me that that wasn’t enough. We made our way to the fallen star. But then, I had a Revelation. I knew what was on the falling star.”

The picture became one of fire and pain. Of slaughtered warriors and screaming children. Of several figures with red blades standing in the middle. They laughed like beasts in cloaked as people.

“Worse, we had gotten too close. They knew that we were coming. They were eager for more blood. I sent word to the head of the column, demanding they halt. I called for another council. This time, everyone listened, for I had something beyond vague feelings. Incidentally, you were the one I chose as my messenger. You were my assistant for the day, after all.” Vajra saw a four-year-old version of himself. He was quite small, and had his third eye open, as dark as his lower two. “You were also the one who led me away when the monster came. But I digress.”

Dozens of people entered the picture. The faces were all grave; some were frightened, others, resolute.

“We had no choice. We had to ask our warriors to make the ultimate sacrifice. Our hunters too. I knew in my heart, that it was not enough. I knew that we were doomed. All I could do, was pray. A short while later, he came for us. He was wounded, but the injuries only served to make him angrier. Stronger. And there were none left among us, who could face him. He fell upon us like a vrka among chickens. You led me away, protecting me as your mother no doubt told you to.” The old Raudra snorted again. “Protecting me… how humbling. How ironic.”

“I’m—”

“Do not say you are sorry. I admit, I was upset with you at first. I even wanted to shout at you, when I saw my great-great-granddaughter dead. Fortunately, I didn’t abandon my dignity. But I often wish I had attacked him sooner. If I had, perhaps more of the Devarath would be alive. Some of my great- and great-great-grandchildren. Instead, you were all I saved, and you had to leave this world too. Everyone else is dead. Everyone else. I failed in the worst, possible way.”

“That’s not true. Weren’t there Devarath who married into other tribes?”

“Yes, but they are not of the Devarath anymore. They are part of whatever tribe they married into. Such is our way.”

They were both silent. The water showed them a reflection of the starlight above. Was it nighttime in the real world? Vajra could not say.

“It’s pathetic,” the wizened Raudra sighed at last. “They call me an avatar of our father, same as you. But you and I are mountains apart. I may have killed that creature, but I failed to stop him. Even in death, he lingered, trapping the souls of our kin as he did so. I could do nothing. Yet you banished him like you were waving away a fly. You’ve killed demons even worse than him. Compared to you—”

“That’s a bad comparison, isn’t it? You didn’t know how to deal with him. I do. Besides, it’s wrong to decide someone’s life’s worth based on just one failure. How many years did you serve as our leader? How many times did you save us from destruction? How many times did you heal the injured, treat the sick? Were you not the one to stop that enraged gajah, when you were seventy? Or that stampede? The landslide? You have done great things in your life. Imagine if I failed in my own old age. Does that erase all the good I did? All the people I saved?”

“You won’t understand. I can deal with failure. What I can’t deal with, is absolute failure. Of watching everyone die. Perhaps you will understand one day. I hope you do not. But I thank you for trying to help this old man. As you helped the others, when you freed them.”

“I watched Uphrades die, Aparajitha. It was a world I spent ten years on. It had nearly sixteen million people living on it, all farmers. I knew people in several villages and towns. Darth Angral appeared one day, not because he knew what the world was to me, but because he chose it on a whim. He killed them as a test. Cooked them alive. I Felt them die, and I know that I could have saved them, had I been there a few hours earlier.”

Vajra placed his own hand in the lake. He didn’t know the method Aparajitha had spoken of, but he did know how to commune with the Force. And with crystals. A few thoughts, a little focus, and images from his own memory appeared on the water. Uphrades burning, the utter devastation of Balmorra, the fighting on Corellia.

“It hurt me so deeply, to think that I had failed. Enough that I tried to end my own life.” He raised his chin, showing the broken pattern in his tattoo. “So do not tell me that I don’t understand.”

The old Raudra appeared shocked. “I see… I see. You’ve seen more than your fair share, haven’t you?”

“I’m not the only one. There’s a war going on out there, one seemingly without end. Every single day, thousands of children experience the unfiltered cruelty that the galaxy has to offer. I, at least, am lucky. I have people who care about me.” He changed the picture on the water. Jasme, Kira, Bengel Morr, Lord Scourge—wait, what? —Masters Kiwiiks, Devel, Gnost-Dural, Syo Bakarn, Kaedan, and Satele. Most important of all… Lana. And then… Master Orgus.

Vajra lingered on his poor, departed Master’s face for a few moments before turning back to his elder.

“There are people who don’t even have that much. I try not to complain, even though… even though…” the Vision trembled as his old guilt returned.

After another spell of silence, the old man spoke again. “Thank you, young man. You helped me again.”

“You’re welcome.”

“I suggest you point your words inwards from now on. As often as you can. You are not your failure to protect this… Uphrades.”

Master Orgus’ reflection, still lingering on the water, spoke then. “Nor are you your other failures.”

“Master!?”

“I see my time with you has ended,” the Raudra said. “It is time for your teacher to speak. I bid you farewell. May you live long, and find happiness.” He faded into the starlight. Vajra stared for a few moments. Was this a little abrupt? He hadn’t got to say a proper farewell!

From the lake, Master Orgus beckoned. “Come on in, youngster. The water’s just fine.”

*

Jnanaprastha

When the Raudra capital was properly in sight, the spectacle was enough to stop Lana Beniko in her tracks. She had not been prepared for such a beautiful little city. Per Jasme’s report, it was well-planned and beautiful, but the reality outstripped even her store of words.

Every surface—be it walls or doors—was covered in intricate sculptures and reliefs. Gods and demons, birds and beasts, and strange crosses between humanoids and animals—the sort you saw in primitive iconography. She was a little surprised to see many faces carved without the iconic third eye. Did that mean the long-extinct cousins they’d once shared this world with didn’t have it? Perhaps many of these deities and stories were coined by those people—whose name eluded her at the moment.

The houses beyond were elevated from simple mud-brick base to a work of art by all the color and statues. The air was thick with the scent of flowers and cooking. Having tasted their cuisine the previous night, Lana wished she could try out more. Especially here, in the big city.

Since she was Cloaked, Lana had to avoid the crowds milling through the streets, and instead take to the walls and rooftops. She got a good look at the city and its bustle from her vantage points. The markets, the temples, the houses, the people, the children, and all the activities.

Speaking of the temples, you could tell which ones were them, by the tall, pyramidal structures sitting on top of them. The tallest of these was the Maheshwara Raudra Temple—her destination—which also housed the government building. Lana walked along the rooftops, feeling Vajra deep in his trance through their connection. She wished he could’ve been there with her. That he could’ve seen this! He had, once before, but he had few memories of that time. If only time wasn’t a factor here…

When she reached the Temple, she felt guilty about going inside with her shoes on, since everyone seemed to be leaving footwear at the door. She didn’t want to leave hers, however; nor did she want to disrespect this culture. A little thought later, she stashed her boots behind a statue on the roof and entered through a window. There was quite a crowd here today. Perhaps it was there every day. They watched and prayed as the priests performed some ritual.

Lana could do little, since her objective was the shrine, the priest was working at. She watched as he waved incense, threw small handfuls of petals, grains, leaves, and powders, and rang bells. She couldn’t follow what was going on one bit, so she looked around instead, returning to admiring artwork and construction. Though the ritual ended shortly afterwards, the place remained crowded. There was another ritual at dusk, and another late at night; and though both those had smaller crowds in attendance, she still couldn’t approach the shrine. She was forced to spend the day in meditation.

Then at last, around 23:00, the priests and servants began to clean up the place. They left, soon afterwards. Lana waited a moment to ensure that the coast was clear, before approaching the main shrine.

She crept inside, and found several alcoves, each to one of the twelve avatars of Rudra. The ones whose third eyes had turned white after they’d died protecting their kin. In most cases, they had done what Aparajitha had—summoned a tower of Lightning from the heavens. He was the eleventh one, according to Jasme’s description. The twelfth was Vajra. His likeness had been installed shortly after his Knighthood. His statue was much smaller than the others, and built with the proportions of a small child, since that was when he’d been seemingly marked.

Lana saw some irony in that, since he was still much shorter than most adults she’d seen here. He had been a little self-conscious about that, though he hadn’t given it voice. He still had a few years to grow. With luck, he would be a good two meters tall, like everyone else in here.

She turned her attention back to Aparajitha’s alcove. The Lightsaber of Darth Bellicose sat within it. Using the Force, she gently eased it out of its stand and began disassembling it.

The Emitter came off first, then the hilt, then she separated the internal components. At last, she exposed the Lightsaber crystal. It was a burning red, and its malice filled the air around it. She’d been able to Sense it from almost the gate, though Vajra had been accurate in his assertion that it could do little more than unsettle the citizens unless it was wielded.

After reassembling the Lightsaber and putting it back in place, she pocketed the crystal and made her way out. She was glad there were no locks and doors to this place. This might be the first act of theft this temple had seen in all its years, because none of the inhabitants would dare steal from this sacred place. She mentally apologized to these people, but she was doing this for their own good after all. And at the request of one of the beings they worshipped, no less.

She chuckled softly. Most days, she wouldn’t have worried about this sort of thing. It was only because they were kin to her boyfriend, that she gave them this much consideration. Love did make people go against their nature, sometimes.

Once she had exited, she found her boots and vaulted over the walls. Her landing was a little wobbly though. I guess I’ve been neglecting my training.

Once she was out, she climbed a nearby hill to give the temple city one last look. It was beautiful in the night, with streets lit by oil lanterns and some street musicians playing flutes and drums. Few were out in the streets; she suspected it would be fully asleep in another hour, except perhaps for the guards.

She looked in on Vajra, and noticed he was still not done with his Visions. She had some time to kill. She sat on the branches and watched the scenery in front of her. It was quite tranquil.

I wonder if we can return here. Openly. Tour the many cities and towns. Meet the people. See what their culture has to offer. We could make it a vacation. Maybe we could bring Jasme! And my parents! Damn, I’m getting sentimental in my old age.

*

Back at the Lake

“Master Orgus!”

“How long are you gonna make me wait? Come right in. It’s not as cold as you would think.”

Vajra obeyed. He dived in like a man in a race to pick up a treasure at the bottom. His skin didn’t feel like it was entering a water body, however. It felt like he’d stepped through a door.

One that took him from the cold climate of the mountains…

… and at the edge of a pleasantly warm town near a sea. He could smell the salt of the sea, and hear the crash of waves.

“Where is this place?” Vajra started to ask, until he saw a fucking galaxy hanging in the sky like some pretty cloud. “WHAT IS THAT!?”

Master Orgus laughed heartily at his astonishment. He looked very much alive in this vision, and he stood some distance away, close to a lone, run-down house. “That’s a dwarf galaxy. The dwarf galaxy, I should say.”

“The Rishi maze?”

“The very same.”

“That means this is—”

“Rishi. I was born here, many years ago.”

“You were born here?”

“I was. Come on. In here.” Orgus walked inside. Vajra followed. It was a simple wooden hut, with barely any technology that wouldn’t be available on Raudraksha. “I grew up here, you know. In this house. I was young, and the Jedi found me. I don’t remember much more than the walls, a blanket, and a few friendly faces.”

Vajra looked around. “It’s good to know that heroes and champions can be born anywhere.”

Orgus chuckled. “You are a better example of that than I, don’t you think? You stopped Angral and the Emperor. You killed Malgus. You saved more people than I ever did by protecting Coruscant.”

“Life’s not a number’s game. The Force itself reminded me that even now, my story is not written. I can become anything. Fall to great depths. Aparajitha told me that the only thing he felt was shame, for ‘failing’ his tribe. Despite over a century of service.”

“Do you fear falling to the Dark Side, young Vajra?”

“Yes.”

“Good thing you have me then.” His Master almost sounded self-deprecating when he said that.

“You sound… you’re thinking about Bengel, aren’t you? And K’ilika?”

“K’ilika?” Orgus turned to face him. “How do you know her?”

“I met her. On Belsavis. She helped me stop the Revanites from killing a team of scientists and making off with some tech.”

“I’m glad.”

“You feel guilty, don’t you?”

“I’ve had several students over my career. You. Bengel. K’ilka. All three were touched by the Dark Side, in some shape or form. Bengel Fell, and K’ilika was tricked. And you, of course, were Broken.” He snorted. “And then there was Harron Tavus. He was a friend of mine. Very close friend. He saw the Sacking of Coruscant. Fought by my side for years. On the Republic’s side. He knew exactly what the Sith were capable of. Yet he had no qualms about switching sides. It strikes me, that I am a symbol of bad luck.”

“All four of us made the right decision in the end. Bengel is back with the Order. He helped stop the Dread Masters. K’ilika returned to the Jedi, even though it meant having to surrender. Tavus surrendered too.”

“And you returned too… yes. I suppose that just goes to prove your point. So. Bengel really helped defeat the Dread Masters?”

“Yes. He, Praven, and Kavi Taa, among others. I believe it was tough, out there.”

“You have no idea. They understood insanity and phobia in a way that even their Master didn’t. You would have been a poor match for them, unaided.”

“Bengel’s still recovering from the horrors. But he’s proud. He’s happy.”

“Very good.”

“Tell me about K’ilika.”

“Well… I took her as my Apprentice, even before Bengel. She was my Padawan almost from birth. I raised her. Cared for her. Taught her everything, from letters to astronavigation. She was… she was my daughter, my child, in a way that even Bengel wasn’t. Or… or you.”

“I understand. We knew each other for just a year, after all.”

“Right. She got her spurs at a young age, just like you. She was sixteen. And, like you, her first assignment as Knight was on Coruscant. She took over from a Knight named Taryn Wilcom, a slightly older Jedi, so she could be freed up while K’ilika was eased into her new role. She was at the Senate when the Sith came. She managed to protect a whole bunker full of senators and their families from fifteen Sith, which earned her a commendation. But… well, she saw the Temple fall. It was her home. Her safe space. And Bengel was like an older brother. She also had an adoptive sister there, a Twi’lek named Vena Partha. Losing them both was like adding rocket fuel to the fire. For a while, she managed to pretend that everything was alright. But that changed, several weeks after the Treaty came into effect. Before I knew it, she’d skipped town. Joined forces with a Sith who wanted revenge against several prominent Republic Senators and soldiers who had betrayed the Republic. The people who’d pushed for Coruscant to be left undefended, and who were getting ready for new lives of luxury back in the Empire.”

“Why did Rust want revenge on them?”

“They were also the ones to allow Balmorra to fall into Imperial hands. But they had messed up. The Balmorra Campaign wasn’t as neat and straightforward an affair as the Sacking of Coruscant. Rust, who had put his faith in them, lost everything there. He committed far more than he could afford to lose. As a result, his territory was seized by Angral, his family enslaved. He and K’ilika had a common enemy, so they joined forces. Unfortunately, he unlocked her hatred. Where earlier, she might have just apprehended the traitors, she now killed them without remorse. The best that can be said, is that she made it clean. She did threaten them into revealing their treachery and donating their ill-gotten gains to charity, but merely stabbed them in the heart afterwards. No torture, no torment. But sadly, it didn’t end there. Rust discovered secrets even they didn’t know they had, which he sent back to the Empire. It allowed them to blackmail several worlds into joining them. K’ilika was horrified. Rust, confident that she had nowhere else to go, persuaded her to defect. Promised her vengeance against Darth Angral too, his next target. He thought he had her. She answered by burying her blade in his mouth. She left the Lightsabers there. Returned to us and confessed her crimes. I was forced to recuse myself, as I was too close. The Council considered merely rehabilitating her, but the Senators who knew insisted on harsher punishment. I tried to protect her, but she was sent to a secret prison, to live out the rest of her days.”

“She’s no longer on Belsavis.”

“What?”

“When I gave Kira the Garuda, I asked her to smuggle away K’ilika and another prisoner. Kira said she left her on Shili. Thanks to the chaos on Belsavis, no one knows they’re missing yet.”

“Well… that was a reckless thing to do.”

“You said yourself, she didn’t deserve to be there. What was more, she’d healed.”

“You broke her out for me, didn’t you? Anyone else, and…”

Vajra laughed. “Really, Master? On the Vajra scale of reckless, that was a four at best.”

“Don’t start that with me! Your scale is busted thanks to the extremes! On an Orgus Din or Satele Shan scale, that had to be an eight!” He laughed shakily. “Still, I’m glad. She deserved a second chance. Thank you. Much as I like reminiscing, we should move on. Our time isn’t unlimited.”

“So, what now? Why here?”

“We’re here, because ‘here’ seemed as good a place as any for this. Got time for a final lesson from an old friend?”

Vajra hesitated. “After the Braga incident—”

Master Orgus sighed. “I know. You must blame me for that.”

“I wouldn’t call it ‘blame.’ It did work out, in the end. But I am nervous.”

“I understand. You must think me the herald of doom.”

“That’s a little gloomy.”

“So how about we start off with something you’ve come to enjoy, before you started hunting Revanites? You’ve been neck-deep in a game of betrayal, lies, and espionage for more than a year now. What’s worse, the war has only gotten uglier, since the Emperor’s fall. There are dark times coming. For the galaxy, and for you.”

“You’ve Sensed what’s to come?”

“I’m one with the Force now. I can See much… though I cannot reveal it. And I’m worried that you’ll forget why you’re fighting. Defending the Republic, vanquishing the Sith; those are tools a Jedi uses in the service of life. Of people. Not ends unto themselves. And the many deaths you’ve seen, over the course of your career… and the ones you’ve caused. You’re still much the same child I met, eleven years ago… or is it twelve? I can’t say, anymore. You still feel the weight of every life.”

“I’ve come to accept it. To a point.”

“Not as much as you could have, but I’m almost glad. You’re still a good man. The nature of war is something that will always repulse you. I went through it too. I want to help you reconnect. Help the people of Rishi. Folks eking out existences good and bad, living in the fear of guns and violence. You’re going to make their lives better, as only you can. You’re going to feel why you’re a Jedi.”

“That doesn’t sound too bad. Where do I begin?”

“There are a lot of people without homes on Rishi. Those people are catching Tanemum fever. On Corellia, they’re cured for free. Here, no one much cares. No one but you. You’ve got a ship packed with food and medicine. You’re no doctor, but you can deal with this much; synthesize a cure as common as this.”

“I understand. This will be so exciting!”

“‘Exciting,’ eh?” the old man laughed. “No Sith Lords, no ancient evils, no hidden enemies this time. Just doing a bit of good.”

Vajra began his task at once. His ship, he found, was a hop, skip, and a jump away from where he’d started from. The Garuda felt quite strange after all this time, but C2 greeted him as if no time had passed at all.

“Welcome back, Master. I’ve reprogramed the air circulators to emit the aroma of Alderaanian nectar. Enjoy!”

“Hey, C2. I was hoping for your help synthesizing the vaccine to the Tanemum fever.”

“Of course, Master. As it happens, it’s a quick cure to synthesize. How many batches will you need?”

“Say… a hundred? And standby for producing more?”

“Gladly, Master.” The protocol droid entered the medbay and emerged not five minutes later, carrying a crate of vials and an injector.

Vajra spent the next hour treating delirious patients. Every now and then, Master Orgus would whisper in his ear.

“Too weak to talk, but he’ll remember this. Not only that, in a few months, he’ll be back on his feet. He’s a gambler—a conman—but he’ll do what it takes to stop the fever on Rishi.”
“This one won’t remember you. Don’t take it personally. But he will bring joy back into his wife’s life. She’ll be stronger for it. And together, they will build a stronger community.”

There were a lot more tasks he had to fulfill, each of which brought some peace to his mind. It felt selfish, to help others as a way of therapy. But so what? In the end, he was helping. That was what he’d told himself as he worked in various refugee camps. It didn’t help much at first—made him feel like a selfish fake—but things got better before the Revanite incursion made it worse again… briefly. He had much to thank Lana for.

He repaired faulty equipment that protected people from the elements, cleared garbage from the streets, helped mediate arguments, tracked down lost family members and pets—sometimes a treasured possession—and gave company to those people in their final moments, who had no one else for comfort.

“That’s everything, then,” his Master’s voice whispered. “Return to me in my hovel. I’d like to speak to you again. Maybe, for the last time.”

Vajra returned to an Orgus who looked almost apprehensive. “Master?”

“When I died, it wasn’t my victories that gave me comfort. It was all those faces. The people I’d helped, the people I’d served. It made the pain bearable. Suppose you live to see the war’s end, how will you live? How will you find comfort?”

“I’m surprised you’d ask, Master. I had a Vision on Voss. I know that retirement is not in my cards. I can only hope… I can only hope that my friends are by my side more than not. And Lana.”

“Yes. Lana.” Orgus smiled at the name. “I remember you once asking me about Sith you could reason with. Make alliances and friendships. I shouldn’t be surprised you found something even more. She is… a good woman. And good for you, which is more to the point.”

“Thank you for approving.”

“I don’t have to. I’ve seen the effect she has on you. Have you looked in a mirror recently? An ordinary one? You should. You’ve changed perceptibly.”

“I’ll have to look, sometime.”

The spirit of his Master chuckled. “A good friend of mine always dreamed of dying in a shop holed up on Coruscant. There’s always something to fight for. What we did today… I lied a bit. It wasn’t about remembering what we fight for. It’s not like you could forget that. It was about preparing you for the healing.”

“The healing?”

“The wound that you’ve almost forgotten. One which still aches.”

“The Emperor. What he did to me.”

“How well do you remember it?”

“Not well at all.”

“His darkness soaked through to your spirit. When you broke free, I was able to make you forget the true depth of the horrors. But this step was always meant to be temporary. For you cannot heal, unless you confront it.”

“I—I see.”

“I won’t lie. You won’t like all of what is to come. But it is necessary for you to bear it. I wanted to do this sooner, but I wanted to protect you a while longer. The time is coming, when your life, and that of those around you, will be decided largely by whether or not you’ve healed. How whole you are.”

“I understand. I—I still fear him, even though I’ve beaten him. But I know I must stand against him when he returns. I cannot afford to fear him in my memories.”

“Good. Fear is a path to the Dark Side. But you know something more important; you know love. That is why you instinctively sought to aid refugee resettlement, for there is a special community to be found in a group that helps each other stand. You have always sought people like Jasme, Bengel, myself, Kira, Satele, and Lana. Your love for them helps you stay strong in the face of weakness. All of your memories will return, in the near future. When it does, remember the love in your heart. And in theirs. It is the key to making you whole again. When you are finished, your soul will be protected for your final battles.”

“I’m ready.”

Master Orgus placed his hands on Vajra’s temples. Vajra felt something stir within him, like air currents being shifted. But no memories resurfaced yet, except for one word: Warpath. “It has begun. Return to the real world now. To Lana. Leave as soon as you are able, and find your way to Rishi, for it is the next step in your journey. I hope you heal, my son. Moreover, I hope you survive and thrive. Even now, not everything is writ in stone.”

“I’ll fight as hard as I can, Master.”

“Good. Wake now, my son. Return the way you came.”

Vajra exited the hovel and went straight for the seashore. He began wading through the surf, then dived in when it was about waist-high. He emerged back on the islet.

A woman with blonde hair and yellow eyes was sitting in front of him. Her smile made his heart flutter. “Hello there, Sailor!” She leaned forward to kiss his nose. She clapped her hands on his shoulders. “Had a pleasant day?”

He embraced her with a chuckle, and kissed her pretty hair. “It was interesting, that’s for sure. Waking up with you in front of me was the highlight. Here, sit down. It’s best we talk about it. I think the coming future is going to be a little… difficult.”

She sat on his lap. “Difficult how?”

“Warpath. I need to confront Warpath.”

Lana’s shudder spoke volumes. “I’ll be there for you.”

“Thank you.”

*

Chapter Text

Rishi

“WHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA! THAAAAAAAAT’S PRRRRRRRRRRETTY!”

“Settle down, Sis. It’s just a dwarf galaxy—”

“Oh, excuse me!” Jasme thumped Theron on the head in mock outrage. “‘Settle down,’ he says. ‘Settle down! It’s just a Dwarf Galaxy!’” She shook him by the shoulders. “‘It’s just a dwarf galaxy!’ Where is your sense of wonder!?!?!?! Look how pwetty that is!”

“Alright, alright, I got it!” Theron patted her shoulders gently. He chuckled wryly. “I guess one of us had to enjoy the scenery.”

Jasme was no longer listening to him. She was looking out of the viewport, deep into space. The dwarf galaxy hung just beyond Rishi’s star. She’d seen holos of the Rishi maze, of course. But it did not compare to the real thing! It was glorious! She wanted to pull it out of the port and plop it in her mouth.

“Just wait till you’re on the ground!” D4 said happily. “I’m told it looks even prettier from the planet!”

<Rishi has pretty sky, but the mighty Jakarro hates the sand and sea! And then there are the pests…>

“Pests? Are there rats?”

“I believe my esteemed master is referring to the pirates. Rishi is a haven for them. Presently, the Nova Baldes hold the top spot by a wide margin.”

“Right.”

<Taking us in for landing.>

“We had a message from Lord Beniko,” D4 said. “They’re already on the ground. They’ve picked out a nice place for us. One big enough for several ships. But we’re already coming in for a landing at Raider’s Cove.”

“She says they'll meet us at the landing pad,” Theron said, returning to the Copilot’s chair.

“I can’t wait to see my little brother again. I haven’t hugged him in so long!”

“Easy there,” Theron advised. “You held out this long.”

“But he’s right there now!” Whimpering, Jasme pointed at the planet. “So close…”

“Closer every second.”

“Can I ask a favor, Sis?”

“Umm. Yeah?”

“If I’m not nearby when you return to Tython, ask someone to record your reaction for me. To getting back to the Archives.”

Jasme turned a teary-eyed gaze at Theron. “The… the… the Archives!?!?!”

“You can stop with the theatrics now.”

Jasme complied, and laughed cheerfully. “Sorry. But it does get my spirits up, when more family is close. I feel more complete when there’s more loved ones around me.”

“You’re… built so different. I wish this was a perfect world, where you could just be happy.”

“I am happy, Theron.”

“You’re also quite sad.”

Jasme dropped her gaze. It was true. Far truer than she cared to admit. Life didn’t let her carry her loved ones around under her arm like dolls, like she wished it did. She’d love to meet them every day. Or at least, every week. Vajra faithfully kept up his correspondence, even when she’d been a prisoner—her inbox was still full of messages he’d sent her every day, wishing she was safe. Mom also sent her little notes now and then, and more recently, so had Dad. But it was different from meeting them on a regular basis.

Lost in her reverie, Jasme kept just half an eye on the ship’s descent. She disembarked mechanically, but the first breath almost made her sick.

“This is it? This is the place?” She was appalled.

Theron nodded. “Yep. Raider’s Cove.”

“I hope you weren’t expecting something better,” D4 put in. “This is a pirate town, after all.”

“So what? Do you mean to tell me, that there’s no such thing as a clean pirate?”

“Afraid not,” Theron replied. “At least, none I’ve ever seen.”

“Maybe ye can be the first, me matey, arrrr!”

Jasme and the others, in the process of exiting the landing pad, turned around in shock to see who it was that spoke with the stereotypical accent.

It was a woman in the most garish outfit imaginable, a mix between skimpy and ostentatious; like someone cosplaying as a well-dressed gentlebeing, but giving up halfway. Despite the bright colors, her bright purple frock coat was of magnificent quality, as was her feathered cavalier hat, but she had… basically… a thong wrapped over her chest and bottom.

Little was left to the imagination.

In fact, even her blasters looked like they were bought from some brassy costume store.

“Ummm. ‘Ello,” Jasme said brightly.

“Ahoy there, matey!” she cried in return. “I ‘eard what yee wuz sayin’! Might I interest yee and yer fair company in a few rounds in the pub?”

“Sure!” Jasme said confidently. “Come along, Ronnie¹!” She pulled a very confused Theron behind her.

<You go!> Jakarro roared. <The Mighty Ja—Kruurarrlf must resupply his ship.>

“Have fun!” D4’s merry, fading voice called as they hurried to push through the milling crowd. She looked around interestedly as she passed by, and the smell got a bit better as they left the docks. Little by little.

Much of the town was built with wood, and more than one roof was canvas. The planning was haphazard, as if people had just tossed down their boards and started setting up shop. They were also far too close together, so speeders couldn’t fit in unless the crowds were cleared. All cargo was moved the old-fashioned way.

Many landings were joined by treacherous rope bridges and walkways. No, scratch that. Even some of the main path was rickety. A few ramps led underground, which smelled like a drain. She hoped no one lived there.

Theron and Jasme had no trouble keeping up with the woman, for she was slowed down by a lot of jeering. And her reactions made her stand out even more.

“OY! WHOOYOO THINK YOU INSALTIN, EY?”
“LIP AT ME AGAIN, AND YOU’LL WALK THE PLANK, SAVVY?”
“I’M GON TER CRUSH YER BARNACLES, SLIME CRAWLER!”

Jasme laughed harder than she should’ve. Soon, they emerged from the congested section of the town and into a more open one. This place looked like it was built with cargo in mind, or at least, pirates. Most of the streets and doors were large enough for a cargo crawler to fit.

A large number of people trying to look tough stood around. Some wore tight, sleeveless shirts to emphasize their imposing physique. Others wore decorated coats, though none so gaudy as Jasme’s… ‘new friend.’

“Pirates,” Theron said in an undertone. “Nova Blades, Carida Corsair, Death’s Claw, White Maw, Tonvarr Pirates, Corellian Blackstripes, Children of Balmorra, Rodian Shivs, Cutlass and Skulls…”

“This place really is a haven for them.”

“Right.”

They soon entered the cantina, the Blaster’s Path, which was thick with the smell of booze and the laughter of drunks despite the early hour. A man equally as flashy as the girl stood up. “Well, look who it is, matey! Me big sister is back, arrr!”

The woman gave a silly laugh and sat down. “Arrr indeed, big brother!” She turned to the twins. “Me name is Alzabeta Redlion! And this ere is me big brother, Eduaredo! He’s the best pilot to ever take to the skies!”

“Me big sister here is th’ grayt’st shot this side of the outer rim, arrr!”

“So… Alzabeta and Eduaredo, is it?” Jasme chuckled. What’s with the big-sibling shtick²? “That’s what we’re calling ourselves now?”

“Aye!” ‘Alzabeta’ said strongly. “Those be the very names our parents gave to us, right, Big Brother?”

“Aye, Big Sister!”

“I can’t… I can’t take this anymore!” Jasme was laughing openly now. She gave them both a tight hug. “You two are cracking me up!”

Theron looked uncomfortable. “Umm. Taryn³?”

The so-called siblings’ looks of hurt only made her laugh harder. “What can’t yee take anymore?” “Why we be crackin ye up?”

An interruption came in the form of an angry woman with dark skin and hair. “Well, look who it is! The idiot duo dares come into the cantina again!” She turned to the bouncers. “What do I pay you guys for? Clear these two out!” She turned menacingly in Theron and Jasme’s direction. “Are you with them?”

“Sorry, my charming friend,” Theron said quickly. “My associate here seems to have mistaken these for someone else.”

“Really? What a laugh! Who in blazes could you mix up with those two weirdos?” The pretty landlady turned back to the bouncers and gestured with her chin. The security did their jobs at once, dragging the ‘siblings’ out screaming in bad pirate language.

Jasme tried to interfere, but Theron stopped her. “You thought that was them, didn’t you?”

The Archivist turned to her brother in complete shock. “They’re not!?”

“Nope. Our contacts are over there.” Theron pointed outside the door, where a woman with long red hair walked in, and was looking around. Or pretending to. A human male stood behind her, with spiky black hair.

Jasme sort of remembered them. She and Theron had passed them by near the entrance. But those two looked like they fit so perfectly… or at least, she did. The man was a lot more conspicuous in how he held himself. And he seemed to have a slightly hunched back. That was what Vajra looked like, when he was hiding his secondary arms behind his back. He gave her a very big smile before making his way to her with the woman in tow. “Oh, damn.”

“Right. You just hugged two complete strangers.”

“Fuck.”

“Hello there,” Vajra said cheerfully. That was his voice, dammit! He hadn’t even changed his accent! “Was there a reason you accepted ‘Captain Redlion’s’ offer for a drink?”

By comparison, Lana was role-playing almost as adeptly as Theron. Her Kaasi accent was imperceptible, and her voice was at quite a bit higher, her cadence faster. “Easy there, Mister Knave. Greetings, Ron. Hi there, Taryn. It’s good to see you in person again. Did you really think that was me?”

“We are not going to talk about this. Ever.”

“I can’t imagine how she could confuse me with Eduaredo though,” Vajra said seriously. “Do you really think I’m that bad?”

“They were so obviously out of place!”

“Of course, they were,” Lana sighed. “They’re rich brats looking for an adventure. I’m not totally stupid, you know. Nor is your other brother.”

Chuckling, Vajra hugged Jasme tightly. She buried her burning face in his shoulder. “Your girlfriend is bullying me,” she complained.

“Is she?” Vajra sounded horrified. “Bad Wolf! Apologize, now!”

“I’m sorry, Taryn.” Lana’s apology was half-sincere.

“Ahhh, don’t worry about it!” Jasme pulled the surprised Sith into a hug. “It’s good to see you too, sister-in-law!”

“We’re not married yet—”

“Are you still on about that?” Theron asked exasperatedly. “You’re seeing things. There’s nothing there!”

Jasme almost started laughing again in disbelief. Her blockhead twin could see through a perfectly good disguise, but he drew the line at feelings? “Never change. ‘Big Brother.’” She moaned sourly. “Damn, that phrase is ruined for me.”

Her companions laughed.

“So, where’s the Mighty Kruurarrlf?” Lana asked.

“He’s securing his ship,” Theron answered. “He’ll be a while.”

“You want to talk now, here? Or, we can go back to our place.”

“Do we have to go through the town again?” Jasme groaned.

“We can circle around it,” Vajra answered. “We know some alleyways around the town now.”

“Really? But you’ve only been here for like… a day!”

“We found a charming guide,” Lana explained. “A friendly local.”

“How friendly?” Theron asked.

“His kind seem to be rather guileless and accommodating.”

“I see.”

“Look, I take all precautions. I’m not a novice.”

“Right. Sorry. It’s been a long year.”

“A year in which you had her for company—” Vajra nodded at Jasme, who offered him a high-five. “How could you be gloomy after that?”

“He’s stubborn,” Jasme replied. “But I’ll change him, yet.”

“Let’s get to this hideout of yours. I trust it’s pest-free?”

“The droids are seeing to it,” Lana replied, leading the way out. Vajra fell in step beside her. Really beside her. Close enough to discreetly take her hand. Jasme was proud. “It should be clean when we enter.”

“The district is cleaner than the slum,” Vajra said reluctantly. “And a lot more spacious. We have some privacy.”

“Yes, though it’s far out of the way. It’s an old sick house.”

“A sick house?”

“Yes. Back when the town was faced with several deadly, contagious plagues, about two dozen such buildings were set up as quarantine zones. Anyone who fell sick was thrown into them, and only allowed to leave if they recovered. Unsurprisingly, few did.”

“Damn. Why are we shacking up in such a cozy place?”

“Because it’s isolated,” Lana replied. “And spacious. People give it a wide berth, for obvious reasons.”

“Besides, we couldn’t find room anywhere else. The slums are overcrowded… not that I’m keen on staying there. And the prime locations are all occupied by pirates. We want better, we need to evict a few crews.”

“And we’re not ready for it yet.”

“But trust me on this much: there is no lingering trace of suffering, beyond what our preconceptions tell us.”

“We also hired a few crews. Deep cleaning, plumbers, electricians, movers… It’s spotless now. Has good amenities. There’s a yard big enough for two ships. We can ask Jakarro to bring his ship over there.”

“Thanks,” Jasme said. “That does make me feel better. Hey, I wanna get a tour of your ship! You’ve really made it sound so cool! Besides… I need to see you.”

“Me too.”

*

Jasme was not disappointed by her first sight of the Azure Phoenix. The ship was even grander than the Garuda, and bigger too. And pretty too, despite the successful attempts to camouflage that beauty.

But all that was forgotten once they stepped inside. And dropped their disguises.

“Oh… my… goodness…” Jasme’s fingers ran over Vajra’s face. “Vajra?! You look so… healthy again!”

He laughed bashfully. He was no longer the gaunt boy she remembered. His cheeks had filled out. He was lean now, instead of emaciated. His eyes, skin, and hair were healthier and shinier too; there was a slight luster to his dusky blue skin that she couldn’t even recall seeing. It was only now that she realized just how bad he’d been all these years. She stared at him for a few moments, then began to ugly-cry. She squeezed him tightly, happy with his progress.

“I love you too, big sister.”

“Thank you! Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you!” She kissed his head, then turned to Lana. “What have you been feeding him?” It had to have been her! She’d seen how the Sith proactively got Vajra to eat and sleep more in their first few days. She’d clearly kept it up!

The Sith smiled, looking pleased with herself. As she should! “Whatever it was, it was in larger portions. It was hard, those first few weeks. But he let me in. Let me take some control of his food intake and sleep schedule. Allowed me to help distract him, or offer him some counselling. Psychology was something I had to study for my training in Intelligence, so I was able to help him.”

“You did a fantastic job. Thank you.” Jasme gave her a tight hug too. The smaller woman was looking quite good too. Her hair looked a lot longer, tied in a loose braid that almost reached mid-back. Her eyes looked less tired, and she seemed to be taking greater pride in her looks. She held herself a lot more confidently. Before, she seemed guarded. Confident in her skills and abilities, but uncertain in her personal charm and appeal. She was still quite pale, but that always looked good on her, anyway! Her voice sounded content too. And there was something about her aura… something Jasme could not quite define. “As thanks, I’m giving you a free pass,” Jasme told her, still sniffling. “You can do one extremely Sithy thing, or fifty small ones.”

“Just what I’ve always wanted,” Lana led her further inside the ship. “Come on. We’ll give you that tour, then we can talk. There’s some food ready.”

Wiping the last of the tears out of her eyes, Jasme turned around to speak to Theron, only to see him looking confused. “What?”

“That was… quite the reaction.”

“I’m happy, alright?” Jasme didn’t want to go into the full details of Vajra’s history with poor mental health. Not just yet, and not without him taking the initiative.

“Well… alright. Listen, I’ll call Jakarro here, then help him unload our equipment. Take a look at what we have, and what we need. You guys enjoy.”

“Your loss.”

The Jedi and the Sith took great pleasure in pointing out the many things the previous crew had done to make this a much better ship than its original specs, as well as the few non-cosmetic changes they themselves had made, such as the stealth drive and electronic warfare systems.

As to the décor, they’d been given a lot of the trophies in the lounge. “Captain Jelbin was happy with Vajra’s enthusiasm and curiosity.” She poked him. “This little man here allowed the old Captain to talk for hours and hours! Get all his reminiscing and nostalgia out of his system! Every last drop of it! Jelbin gave us all this, even though we told him it wasn’t necessary.”

“Awww, my little sweetheart.” Jasme rubbed Vajra’s hair. “Anything you added to this collection?”

“Mostly trophies from our missions, dates, and excursions. That one was from Corfai,” Lana pointed at what looked like a Twi’lek tile. “As were those—” A few wooden sculptures made of a very rich wood.

“That one was from Falleen,” Vajra pointed at a small crystal ball. “And that one’s from Vortex. These…” he tapped a few articles, including musical instruments, rocks, a small jar of dirt, a vial of water, and a sword. “These were from Raudraksha.”

“That’s amazing, I’m glad you both kept adding to—wait a cotton-pickin’ moment. What did you just say?! Raudraksha!?” Jasme took a closer look. Yes, the blade really did have the flowing-water patterns on it. And she recognized the prayer inscribed on the flute. She rounded on the two of them. “You went to Raudraksha!? Without me?”

“We were Summoned there,” he explained. “By the Force itself.”

“Oh. My. God.”

“Technically, he was summoned there,” Lana corrected him. “Rest of us just tagged along. It really is as beautiful as you said it was.”

“What happened? Did someone else discover it? The Revanites?”

“No. Something’s changed, Jasme. We need to talk.”

Jasme did not like the look on their faces. Lana was standing close at Vajra’s left, holding his hand reassuringly. Vajra looked haunted and scared. “What’s changed?”

“I met Master Orgus. He said…” Vajra swallowed a tremulous mouthful of oxygen. “He said I need to confront my past. Confront Warpath.”

“Fuck!”

“He released the memories. They’ve started to return. Slowly… but they’ll get worse before I get better.”

“Why don’t we tell you all about the Vision first?” Lana suggested. “Come, sit. The food’s already on the table, we can just eat.”

“Before we get to that, there’s something else I need to talk about.”

“Okay.”

“Tell me about the two of you.”

Jasme was happy with how they perked up at that. She also got a feeling like she was standing by a window whose curtain had been thrown back, letting in an almost blinding wall of sunlight to fall on her face. And they say I’m the happiest drop of sunshine in the galaxy!

“We’re dating now,” Vajra said. “And in love.”

“We also forged a Force Bond. That was a surprise.” The couple shuddered in the exact same way. Blushed, like little kids. “And we welcomed it.”

“Whoaaaa… this is huge!”

“It is.”

“Tell me all about it. And your dates. And some things you like about each other. And some things you don’t. And tell me just how much you love each other! Come on! Spill the tea!”

“Been wanting to talk about this for a long time,” Vajra sat back and took a bite out of his casserole.

“Before we get to that, you can say your piece,” Lana told Jasme.

“Excuse me?”

“Your triumphant little dance. Your ‘I-told-you-so’ speech. Your loud cheering. Go on, get it out of your system.”

“Alright.” Jasme took a bite of the food. The cooking was definitely Vajra’s. She then took a deep breath, then began to scream.

*

Chapter Text

*

A month since landing

Vajra woke up drenched in sweat once again. He was breathing so hard, that his ribs hurt. He looked at the chrono. Still quite a bit before his usual wakeup time. He turned his attention to the woman in bed beside him. She was still fast asleep, her back turned to him.

When they set up this place, they’d reluctantly put her and Jasme in one room, Vajra and Theron in a second, and Jakarro in the third. But Jasme had put her foot down. She’d insisted that Vajra and Lana share.

“Whatever magic she’s worked on you, I want it to continue working,” she insisted. Behind her, Theron rolled his eyes, but said nothing.

The lovers were quite grateful for this. They were perfectly adult enough to sleep separately in case this made anyone—namely Theron—feel uncomfortable, but this suited them. They’d gotten a little too used to this in their time together. And Theron seemed to be certain that they were just play acting.

Vajra slowly lay back beside her, moving slow so he could avoid waking her up. For now, he was able to keep his nightmares from spilling across their bond. He hoped that would last until he came to terms with them. He hated the thought of being a burden on this woman. He gently kissed her cheek. He focused on her presence beside him, as comforting and powerful as starlight. It helped him forget the shadowy dreams he’d just escaped, the mess of snarls, screams, begging and blood that he couldn’t yet make sense of.

She whispered a few sentences in her sleep. They sounded like verses from the epic poem she was composing. She sometimes talked while sleeping, and he was lucky enough to have heard his name a couple of times¹ (¹ She was giving him (SFW) orders and requests, including one to watch the sky with her), but she also made a habit of quoting or composing literature, reciting recipes, or telling dream enemies that she would not back down.

The last thing he heard before falling asleep was the sound of a Rishi owl on the hunt.

He woke up again twice more, before dawn came. Lana woke up at the first buzz of the alarm, half-a-clock herself.

“Very funny,” she grinned. “Who was it again, who woke up at 05:00 on the dot this whole past year, come rain, shine, or snow? Who was it, that was just waking for me to wake>”

“Guilty,” he smiled back.

She kissed him after they’d brushed their teeth. “Good morning, my love.”

“It always is. I get to wake up to that face, after all. And hear that voice.”

Lana laughed. “Ladies and gentlemen, the pretty boy’s a smooth talker!”

He leaned forward and whispered into her ear,
“Eastward, the lone star sailed, over the crystal lake,
Trailing its ghost silken wings of stardust and ice.
The smoky night clouds grew soft and light in its wake.
A garm wolf that was dozing looked up in a trice.”

She laughed softly, and leaned against him. “That was lovely. Did you compose it?”

“Nope. I borrowed it. From the real master.”

Comprehension dawned on her face. She blushed furiously and smacked his chest. “Oh. No, No! That can’t be right! I don’t write such atrocious drivel!”

“I thought you said it was lovely!”

“Only when you say it! Swordsmanship that looks good when I do it is poor for you, isn’t it?”

“Promise me, you won’t find a way to stop talking in your sleep?”

“Why? Do you like amusing yourself at my expense?”

“Yes.”

She laughed. “Impertinent little rascal!”

“Yours.”

“Of course, you are.” She raised her chin to give him a long, tender kiss. “Now go. Finish your morning training. It’s my turn to cook breakfast, so be back in time to entertain me while I work.”

“Gladly.”

“And don’t forget! No sweaty barbarians in my kitchen, ever again!”

*

It was around 09:00 when the team split up for their assigned tasks.

Theron and T7 sliced public computers and surveillance systems. They sometimes snuck aboard suspicious ships.

Jakarro, HK and Vajra took odd jobs in the town and hit up the cantina, ingratiating himself with the locals. Listening to all rumors.

Jasme conducted research, using her backdoor into the Archives to scan for all known public records on whatever they discovered, if possible. She was kept surprisingly busy, as research of this kind took a long time.

As for Lana, she stayed back in the base, directing the others, gathering and recording their notes, formulating plans and course-corrections, and any other support the others needed.

But it was slow going. As Rishi was the main base of Revanite operations, the information they’d managed to collect about their goings-on in this system were few. As a result, they had no idea what the Revanites were up to on this rock, or who their collaborators were.

Meaning, everyone was suspect. Everyone needed to be cleared.

It was not their intention to start small, but power problems and a lack of knowledge of their new, ever-changing environment forced them to get their bearings first. As a result, it took a whole month before they got their first lead.

“Lupa, this is Orion.”

“Lupa here. Go ahead, Orion.”

“I think I got something. I’m gonna need onsite support. And some entertainment.”

“Copy that. I’m sending in K0. He’s got a new act planned.” HK had grown quite enthusiastic about distractions, and he was close to Theron’s location anyway. Once Lana had given the assassin droid his instructions, she waited with bated breath for the incident to unfold.

Please, let this be a hit, she begged.

*

Theron watched as HK appeared before the gate. For an assassin droid, he really was creative. Last time he’d been called for a distraction, he had released a small cage full of untrained Kowakian monkey-lizards, which had led to a lot of missing shinies, many tantrums, and a few urgent bounties that the droid had been delighted to fulfill—for he’d placed cheap tracking chips in the little critters. As a result, he’d raked in a good five thousand credits resolving a problem he himself had created. Which was a good thing, as the group’s finances were down to a mere thirty thousand.

I can’t wait to see what the crazy droid has up his sleeve this time.

HK marched towards the guards, parade music emanating from his vocabulators alongside a speech, like a pre-programmed newsreader droid. “Look out, Raider’s Cove!” the droid cried in a high-pitched voice that would knock out most Sullustans. “Have you heard of the Red Hulls? They’ve got an appetite for murder, and they’re coming to Rishi!” It stopped in front of the confused guards. “Greetings, Gentlebeings! Let me regale you with the tales of the nefarious Red Hulls! And their monstrous, cannibalistic, dread-inducing Captain! Beware, for a few of their number are already here! They attacked the Besh-99 warehouse when they received a tip that someone who owed them money was hiding there! But that brutal violence, that uncanny efficiency, is nothing, nothing, compared to what their Captain is capable of! If you consider yourself easily startled or especially delicious, steer clear of the Red Hulls!”

Neat! Theron thought. The droid had their 150% attention. He quickly removed the loose fencing he’d spotted earlier and slipped inside the Nova Blade alehouse. This was an exclusive club meant for only their members, which offered free lodging, food, and alcohol, but was open only to their group. It was a rarity, and an indication of how big the Raiders were here in the Cove.

“Can you still read me?” he mumbled.

“Not exactly loud and clear, but that’s for the best anyway,” Lana answered.

“Good. Standby.” Theron had seen a pair being led in, one of who was wearing a faded Imperial uniform, the other Republic. This had to be something. It was broad daylight, so he couldn’t risk acrobatics or the like, so he fired up a disposable mouse droid—his last one, which was nearing the end of its life. After this, he needed to acquire more.

I’m going to steal them this time, he decided. No more Mr. Nice Guy. These guys are pirates, anyhow! Hey! Maybe we can blame ‘The Red Hulls’!

He kept an eye on the droid’s feed as it entered the meeting room. Unfortunately, he didn’t hear much.

“How much longer… It’s… two months already!”

“We don’t know… moving far too slowly.”

“Patience… supposed to happen quickly. Our allies in the Republic and Imperial High… deliberately slowing things down.”

The pirate’s reply was awed. “You have... both High Commands?!”

“More like ‘pawns’,” the Imperial soldier corrected. Theron could tell, thanks to the overt Kaasi accent. “Many of our people… inner circles.”

“The Order of Revan is everywhere.”

“Guess that means… a big payday after all this!”

“Of course, you can. Keep up the good work. And see if you can hit… (this ship) in particular. It’s a minor merchant vessel, but its owner…  She has some knowledge of... and can be a danger.”

“We’ll see to her at once.”

“Then… for today is done. Here’s this week’s payment.”

Theron waited for the Revanites to leave before he did too. His mouse droid died before he could retrieve it, but the model was designed to wipe its own drive and transmitter anyway. The only way these guys would find it, was if they ever decided to clean their establishment.

Going by the smell, that was done once every twenty years or so.

“Did you get that?”

“Yes. It’s not much, but it’s a start. The Order is working with the Nova Blades.”

“Next step?”

“It’s tempting to focus all our efforts on them now, but there’s a chance others are in on this, too. Performing other missions for them. Let’s see what else we can turn up, even if it risks diluting our efforts for a while. Thoughts?”

“I’m fine with that, honestly. From what I heard, this gig is gonna take a while, so we have time before we have to deal with it. There might be other plots that are a lot farther along. By the way, is K0 there?”

“He’s listening in, why?”

“I wanted to compliment him on his distraction of choice. ‘Look out, Raier’s Cove! Have you heard of the Red Hulls?’ Interesting idea!”

“Humility: It was nothing, Master. Confession: I got the idea from Masters Suri and Bolt¹.” 

“Did you, now?” Lana sounded a little suspicious. “That sounds like a tale I hope I’d heard before… could you tell me about it, please?”

“Eager Answer: I’d be delighted to! You see…”

*

A Short While earlier, in the corner of the Besh-99 warehouse…

Jasme was huddled against a crate of explosives. Not that she wanted to be… if she had to be pressed up against something, it should’ve been a box full of chocolates. A chintz hot blanket, maybe. Or a naked Kairegane with a rose clutched between her teeth.

But not something that could literally blow up in her face.

But she had no choice. The Cutlass and Skulls crew had her cornered. She’d tripped after getting startled by a large spider, and the guards were closing in. She had no choice. She needed assistance if she was going to escape alive.

“Hello, this is Ja—Suri. I’m in a pickle here. The pungent kind. Help be Bolt and mighty Kruurarrlf, you’re my only hope!”

Vajra’s response was a little frightened, Jakarro’s eager. “Copy!”

Jasme was lucky her friends were close enough to aid her. Vajra was here in three minutes, and began attacking the pirate guards with his vibrosword. Jakarro arrived in time to block the exit and stop the ones who tried to flee.

“Suri!” Vajra called. “You there?”

“Here!” Jasme ran out and hugged him. “Sorry about that. I didn’t feel like getting caught today. The spider was bad enough! Please don’t tell the others!”

<Never mind that right now, we need to cover our tracks!> Jakarro roared. <These clobberheads won’t find out, but Lord Beniko might!>

Jasme and Vajra looked at each other in alarm. “I really do not want them to find out, please!” Jasme reiterated.

“It’s okay!” Vajra said after a few seconds. “I’ve got an idea.”

“I’m a little scared to ask.”

“We make it seem like the work of a new gang,” Vajra said. “The Red Coats, maybe.”

“The ‘Red Coats’?”

“Sorry, the first thing that came to my head.”

“Uh-huh. You were thinking of Theron, weren’t you?”

“I might have been.”

“Well, your idea itself is good, but your naming sense is a little overt,” Jasme sighed. “At this rate, you’ll force my twin to abandon his signature jacket. He doesn’t like that. How about Red Hulls?”

“Red Hulls, eh? I like it!”

“Here, let me do it.” She dipped a tall stick in blood and scrawled a message on the floor. The act almost made her sick.

“I’ve got an idea,” Vajra said. “Another one, I mean.” He took the stick from her and drew a hasty design on the floor. It looked like a spear—or a starship—dripping blood.

Jasme nodded. “Nice. Let’s get out of here.” They left as hastily as they came. “You know, maybe we should go the extra mile on this. It could fool the pirates. Get them running scared. It might give us breathing room.”

“What do you mean?”

“With D4 and HK’s help, maybe I can cook up a story. Give the ‘Red Hulls’ a reputation.”

“I like it!”

<Don’t go overboard!> Jakarro advised.

“Don’t worry, I’ll make this totally believable!”

*

Present, back at the base

Lana wasn’t pleased. Theron wasn’t pleased, either. They stood in front of the guilty trio, who were kneeling in front of them in disgrace.

“Why are you down there?” Lana eventually asked.

“Coz we’re sorry!”

“You’re sorry. How cute.”

“Look, mistakes happen, but why did you try to hide it from us?”

Lana nodded at Theron’s words, and stared accusingly at Vajra, who flinched.

“He did it for me,” Jasme said reflexively, protecting her best friend. “You know how he is about keeping others’ secrets. He still doesn’t tell me anything about Nine—”

“Alright then, why did you hide it from us?” Theron asked. “It’s relevant to us, after all. We need to be prepared for the backlash, if it comes. Direct the investigation away from us.”

“No sweat! We monitored their comms. They’re really shaken up about the Red Hulls. Especially after HK’s performance!”

“Well… they’re not wrong about that,” Lana admitted. “It’s not your solution itself that I’m annoyed about. Just that you insisted on hiding it from us. And could you please stand up? This isn’t some strange classroom.”

“We can use the ‘Red Hulls’ to our advantage,” Theron said. “It looks like what we feared has come to pass. The Nova Blades are in league with the Revanites. Using a pirate group cover to deal with them is probably the right play. And since you started off with the Cutlass and Skulls—the newest entrants into this field… well, it’s the logical place that all newcomers would start. The Nova Blades will be cautious, but not proactive in rooting out the Red Hull menace. We can even skirmish with them directly, to a degree. I think they’ll only take notice once we start raiding their main assets.”

“So it’s all good?” Jasme looked relieved. “Whew!”

Lana glared at her again, and her smile vanished. She looked like a sad puppy now. Lana chuckled, and allowed the frown to morph into a fond smile. “I can’t stay mad at you. You two, however,” she pointed at Vajra and Jakarro. “Doghouse.”

“Noooooo!”

<Noooooo!>

A triumphantly smug Jasme stuck out a tongue at Vajra.

*

Chapter Text

*

Month Two

Theron was surprised by how varied the breakfast spread was today. Mac and cheese, scrambled eggs with mushrooms, tomatoes, onion, and corn, and a small basket of store-bought bread. It had been Vajra’s turn to cook today, and he’d done a good job despite also looking after Lana.

Poor girl had fallen sick for the third time since reaching Rishi. So, she required plenty of rest, lots of hot soups and tea, and a cold towel. He also provided her with a lot of almost round-the-clock care, checking in on her every hour, helping her when she was at the work station—often insisting that she get some rest, when it got clear she was pushing herself too hard—and sometimes staying by her bedside to lift her mood with that weird banter that, in anyone else, Theron would’ve called flirting.

But despite this, he clearly didn’t skimp out on his chores. Breakfast was as good as it got with the Raudra. Which was pretty good. Even better than Jasme’s, though not so good as Lana’s.

Theron scooped up as much of the mac as he thought he could handle, plus a little of everything else, before heading out to sit on the crates lined up outside the house, which served as both, barricade and outdoor seating.

He watched as the sun broke free of the horizon—a splotch of red-orange in the horizon—while most of the light came from the dwarf galaxy, which currently hung directly overhead. The combination left the scenery awash in bright twilight colors. Theron closed his eyes, listening for the morning birds off to start their busy days. It was amazing that one almost couldn’t tell there was a bustling pirate town, not ten minutes away.

When Theron returned inside, his sister was up. She was taking in the aromas of each dish, looking less sleepy with each one. She piled her plate even higher than Theron—which made sense, since she was a full ten centimeters taller—and did this little dancing-run to the dining table to eat, doing a weird giggle the whole time. She was weird.

And speaking of weird…

Theron turned his attention to Lana and Vajra. Their door was wide open. She was sitting propped up against her pillows, covered in three blankets. He was feeding her the soup he’d made just for her. He whispered something to her, something which brought a grateful smile on her lips. Her flushed face seemed to grow a little redder. Vajra brushed some of the hair out of her eyes before feeding her a spoon—he’d cut it short at her request a couple of days ago, to approximately the length it had been when they’d first met her.

Vajra noticed him looking over. “You’re not thinking of heading out already, are you? It’s still early. Most of the Cove is still fast asleep.”

“True. Gotta love how this place doesn’t even wake up till about noon. But I have some data to analyze.”

“I can help!” Jasme said brightly. “Just let me have my breakfast.” She took a dainty little bite. “Compliments to the chef!”

“Compliments received!”

“You always eat like you’re in a gourmet hotel,” Theron observed amusedly.

Jasme noisily slurped down some macaroni. “We’ve got two good chefs here after all. Lana, you have trained your disciple well!”

“He’s enthusiastic, after all. In all things he does.”

“Is that right? Good boy! Hey Theron, how about you take a round with the apron? I’d like to see how you’ve grown! I’d be happy to do the janitor duty once in a while!”

“I’d rather not deprive anyone of the star chefs—”

“We don’t mind!” Lana said. “Everyone’s got to start somewhere!”

<The Mighty Jakarro remembers that Theron never burned the food, and made them nutritious enough for even a big, strong Wookiee such as himself.>

“Thanks for the vote of confidence. Maybe I’ll take over breakfast duty tomorrow.”

“That’s the spirit!” Jasme applauded him. “You know? They say the road to the heart is through the stomach! If you cook a big meal, you might get past the awkward phase with mom and dad.”

“I’ll think about it. Say, how’s your paper coming along?”

“Slowed to a crawl,” Jasme admitted. “I need an easier access to a big library. Comfortable would help, too. Research and verification takes a very long time.”

“I’ve researched some targets and environments in my time. Even verified a few leads. Any idea how similar it is?”

“No idea. Less dangerous, that’s for sure. And most of the time, the only thing at risk is reputation.”

“It’s close,” Lana answered for her. “But the lines blur when you’re treading new territory. Like your work on the Holbatiri city. All you had were scraps and fragments, with a few tales from Neti and Gen’Dai travelers. But yes, it’s a lot less dangerous. Thank you, Dear.”

Vajra had pushed some hair out of her eyes and offered her some more soup.

Theron couldn’t stand it any longer. “How long are you gonna keep that up?”

“Keep what up?” Vajra looked confused.

“That. Your cute couple act. We’re totally safe in here. We even drop our disguises, call each other by our real names. Why are you maintaining the one ruse?”

The Jedi and the Sith stared at him for a moment, then looked at each other.

“Well, this is awkward,” Vajra said sheepishly.

Lana gave a weak but sly giggle. “Theron… I don’t know how to tell you this, but…”

“It’s not a ruse. We’re not acting. We’re an actual couple. Have been, for months now.”

“What?!” Theron was stunned. He looked over at Jasme, who had her face in her hands. Jakarro was gaping at him from the hammock he’d pitched on the far wall—he had his own room, but liked lounging about in the common space when he could. Even the droids were staring at him. He turned back to the pair. “You’re not serious?!”

“We are,” Vajra looked as patient as ever, but Lana looked amused. “We’re in love. I know it sounds cliché, but we clicked almost at once.”

“So all those times you were acting close—”

“It’s because we were close.”

“Oh damn. Oh, damn! Oh. Damn!”

“Three ‘Oh damns’!” Jasme cackled. “Theron… THERON! I hate to say it, but I FUCKIN TOLD YOU SO! We all did!”

“Right. Right, you did.” His tone broke Jasme’s laughing fit. The guilty couple sobered up. Theron was having flashbacks to his brief, disastrous relationship with Klara Birds, the daughter of the former Cipher Four. They’d met during his swoop gang days, and had a tumultuous relationship. There had been a lot of lovely moments, including Ashton… but the worst… the worst… the memories made Theron want to throw up.

“You’re not mad, are you?” Jasme asked.

“Oh, but I am. Did you both take a hit to the head while I wasn’t looking? We might have an understanding now, but we’re at war! And you two are on the most extreme ends of opposite sides! A Jedi and a Sith! People have died fighting this war, they’re still dying as we speak! Heck, Lana even helped plan the attack on Tython! How can you, in good conscience, have this fling at this moment, pretending that everything’s all well and fine? Or, I dunno, is one of you planning to defect when all’s done, and our names are cleared? Are you looking to become Sith?” He glared at Vajra.

“Heaven’s no!” Lana said, sounding forceful and earnest despite her weakness. “It’s fun being Sith, but a Sith dating a Sith? Every full Lord I ever trusted—or simply put my faith in—betrayed me! Marr, Mortis, Arkous, Jadus, Lord Avernale… I’d much rather fall in love with a beggar, than a fellow Sith Lord.” She bit her lip and swallowed. She looked dizzy.

“I’m lucky to have found Lana,” Vajra said quietly. “I love her, for who she is. I wouldn’t dream of asking her to be less than she is.”

Lana’s eyes shot open again. “What he said.”

“What we have may be an impossible dream, but it’s more than what we dared hope to have in this life.”

“Theron…” Jasme began, the gentle note in her voice sounding forced.

 “You knew about this! How can you be okay with it? Weren’t you almost killed in the Temple?” Theron tried to cut off his sister, but she went on as if he hadn’t interrupted.

“I’m in love with a Sith too.”

“What?”

“It’s true. Back when Revan kidnapped me—thinking I was the Vajra he’d been hearing about—I was captured by Kairegane Rooks. But my captivity was really quite comfortable. Everyone looked out for me. I was allowed to curate the Rooks’ personal museum. She was so impressed, she invited me to a few lunches. In no time at all, we were in love. I even… I even thought I had a future with her.”

“Then why are you here? Why did you leave?”

“It’s a long story. But we’re still… thinking. Hoping. We exchange letters every so often. I even talked to Vette before we left for Rishi, remember?”

“Unbelievable,” Theron growled. “What am I going to do with all of you… acting like a bunch of children.”

“Happy children,” Jasme interjected. “Or at least, children wanting to be happy.”

“So that’s your excuse then? The weight of our circumstances doesn’t seem to hold any sway over you, whatsoever! All those deaths… are they really nothing to you?”

Vajra almost dropped the soup bowl out of his hand, but someone caught it with the Force. Probably Lana.

“Think about what you’re saying,” Lana said, looking angry for the first time since Theron had met her. “Me aside, can you really accuse your sister and Vajra of not caring about the dead?”

“Why not? It seems like I don’t know them at all. And now… now, I think I don’t want to.”

“Theron—” Jasme said angrily, but the spy was already leaving. He’d do his work elsewhere It’s not like he needed that computer. “THERON!”

*

“How is he?” Lana asked weakly.

Jasme shrugged. No sooner had the argument ended, than Vajra’s breathing started to sound like wheezing. He was gasping for breath, shaking and trembling. Despite Lana and Jasme’s best efforts, he’d passed out from hyperventilation. “Panic attack. A particularly bad one. I’ve seen him like this before. All too often.”

“Not like this,” Lana corrected. “I Felt it. Through our Bond. Something just broke.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, the memories have started to attack him. That little crack about ‘all those deaths meaning nothing’ seems to have shaken them loose.”

“I should talk to Theron.”

“Yes. If only because a house divided cannot stand.”

*

“Is… is anyone alive out here? Anyone? Please!”

Vajra did not know where he was. It was a city with the statue of a large reptile erected in its town square. This statue had been poked and hacked by dozens of stone blades, seemingly out of sheer destructive impulse.

Darkness reigned, in more than one sense. The streets were lined with corpses. Many faces still bore the final, horrified moments of their final moments. There were no children here, thank the Force! But this was no ordinary nightmare. It was the past, and the unintended necropolis was populated by people who had been real living, breathing people.

“Please, someone! Anyone?”

Vajra heard an unsettling gurgling laughter, and his head whipped around to find the source. He drew his Lightsaber, but it had a red blade. He accepted the unsettling reality that the one laughing was himself. That all these lives had been cut short by his hand. He caught a glimpse of his reflection in a broken windowpane. Dressed in a large, bulbous armor, he looked like some misshapen hellspawn. His reflection looked at him and laughed in his face.

“We are Warpath!” It shouted. “This is us! This! All this death! This is the truest expression of our mind and soul! Brace yourself, for I am coming…”

“NO! NOOO! NOOOOO!”

“Vajra! Vajra! VAJRA!”

The Raudra woke up with all the composure of a frightened infant. He cried into whosever shoulder it was, who had saved him from his nightmare with their insistent shaking. He cried until he was too tired to remain awake, but he was too afraid to go back to sleep.

“Don’t worry, Darling,” Lana whispered in his ear. “I’m here for you. I won’t let that thing get to you.”

“I’m here for you too,” Jasme kissed his hand.

<Courage, Mighty Vajra! Courage! You will rise again, mightier and surer than before!>

“I don’t deserve to,” he whispered. “I don’t deserve your help. Or your love—”

“You’re wrong,” Jasme said confidently. “The one who doesn’t deserve that is the Emperor, who forced you to kill. You did not choose this. You could never willingly hurt so many people.”

No. No, I definitely can. I am a monster.

No, said Lana’s voice in his head. No, you are not. I could never love a monster. Or Bond with one. Try to relax now.

*

Month Three

It had been two weeks since Theron had stopped talking to anyone. Or spending any more time in the hideout, than he could help. He had his meals in the cantina, slept and worked in Jakarro’s ship, and did his assignments solo.

At least he sent updates to the group every four hours, even if they were brief and not very descriptive. He ignored all of Jasme’s attempts to confront him, until she finally gave up.

But all that changed this morning, when Theron couldn’t pay for his meal. His account had been frozen. He had to use his necklace as collateral until he could pay with credits. The landlady gave him two days to pay before she pawned it off.

“You are so petty!” he growled, as he burst into the base.

Jasme was the only one there for some reason. She looked up at him with a deep fatigue and hurt in her eyes. “What do you want?”

“Don’t give me that! You cut me off! I had to pay my bill using Master Zho’s necklace!”

“We didn’t cut you off,” Jasme said brusquely. “If you read the messages we put in the group chat, you’d know we’re out of money.”

Theron was taken aback by the tone of her voice, but he had other concerns right now. “What do you mean, we’re out of money? Last I checked, we had twenty thousand credits in the bank!”

“That was two weeks ago. We only have twelve left. Not twelve thousand, twelve. Two more than ten”

“No way!”

“Things are hard to get, here on Rishi. Some of the things we have to buy are expensive. Like the equipment. The fuel. The munitions. Bribes aren’t cheap either. Medicine. And Jakarro’s ship suffered a major malfunction. Lana, Vajra, and HK are all off securing more funds while Jakarro and T7 fix the ship. Don’t worry. Your precious account will be up and running in a couple of days. Maybe you can steal from some hapless pirate, and get your necklace back. Trinkets are much easier to recover than other things.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means you walked out on me! Again! Now fuck off. I need my peace and quiet.”

Theron was taken aback. “Jasme—Jasme!”

He made a grab for her hand, but she smacked it away.

“Owww! Jasme!”

“What?”

“Talk to me!”

“No. I tried that. And not just the past two weeks, when you just stomped off like an angsty teenager. I’ve been chasing you all my life, trying to get you to say two words to me, and being happy if you replied once every five months! I’m done. I’m done being grateful for scraps. If you don’t want a sister, then so be it. You’re not the first person to cut me out of their life. You’re not the first person to just take it for granted that I love them, no matter what. I’m done.”

That, more than anything else, shook Theron. But she had more to say.

“Here. You can take this piece of garbage right back.” She tossed a crumped paper in his face.

Theron opened it to find a printed copy of the letter he’d written, years ago.

‘Dear Jasme
It’s your twin. I’m sorry I didn’t write sooner. I’m a real jerk, I realize that. I miss you so much. I love you. I want to see you again. Especially given the recent news about Vajra. If it was a blow to me, it’s hit you so hard that you might not be able to see straight.

It might be too little, too late, but I want to be there for you.

You were right. Life’s too short for me to have ignored you all these years. I swear that’ll stop. Please get back to me as soon as you can. I understand the ransoming process has hit a snag, but I’ll move Coruscant and Dromund Kaas to get you back.

Love,

Your Brother.’

“I used to treasure it,” Jasme continued. “I kept that as a sign that my twin was finally returning to me. That he was done running. I had this strange thought that maybe, maybe he loved me unconditionally. How wrong could I be?” She glared at him. “A while back, you were angry that I adopted a ‘replacement’ brother. Vajra was one of the few people in my life who never intentionally hurt me. Who never walked out on me. Who shared all his joys with me. Even when he had to leave, he involved me in his decision. He wrote to me regularly, like he writes to Kira and Mom and Bengel Morr. And when he heard that I was in love with Kai, he supported me. He even talked me through a few issues and insecurities of mine. He wanted me happy, even if it meant dating—and even marrying—a Sith. In case you’re wondering, that’s what Mom felt too. She was happy enough that I was alive, that she didn’t mind whom I was in love with. She certainly won’t mind, when she finds out that he’s with a Sith himself.” She looked like she stopped herself from saying more with a mighty effort. “He’s unwell now, you know. Your verbal lashing shook loose some of his oldest and strongest demons. He spends most nights whimpering in his sleep. But even so, he’s trying to be there for us when we need him.”

“I don’t know what to say.”

“Why don’t you just continue your current trend? Don’t say anything at all. Not to me, anyway. Just go away.”

“What’s wrong with Vajra?”

Jasme looked compelled to answer that question. “He’s remembered the faces of those the Emperor made him kill. Every single one of them. They haunt his sleep, night after night. He’s starting to see them all the time. Hear them scream. He loves the living. Every life he’s ever taken—over a hundred and ten thousand of them—weighs on him. Every life he couldn’t save. He’s never forgotten Uphrades, which was burned to a crisp right in front of him.”

“I didn’t know—”

“No, you didn’t. And you know why? We’re afraid to talk to you. Because we don’t know what’s going to set you off next. Now excuse me. I’ve got some work of my own to do.”

“Jasme, I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry!”

But she was no longer paying him any attention.

*

Valla del Citron,
Corfai

It was fairly early in the morning, but the orchard town was wide awake already. People here tended to work from dawn to late morning, then take a break from noon till about five. This way, they avoided the hotter part of the day.

The couple were in a fast-food joint outside their docking bay now, enjoying a breakfast of egg-and-cheese sandwiches and caf. They had a good view of the nearest waterfall. The occasional bird dropped by to inspect the customers, sitting on the rail and hopping up and down. More than one flew into the rafters above, or onto the floor for fallen scraps.

“It feels like yesterday when we were last here,” Vajra said wistfully, as he stared over the lovely river valley.

“Time flies,” Lana agreed. “And yet it crawls, too. It feels like we’ve known each other for ages.”

“Statement: Masters, my scopes have detected a ship approaching the spaceport.
Analysis: The ship appears to be a modified Defender-class Corvette.
Conclusion: I do believe the Secret Saint has arrived.”

“Good!” Lana smiled. “I think that’ll mean… ten minutes, if she walks?”

“I’ll order her breakfast… Excuse me, waiter? Can you bring us two more plates of sandwiches? Packed, please.”

They had their order in less than a minute, and they took it to the Phoenix so they could meet their guest without the need for their disguises. Vajra was ecstatic to be meeting his close friend again.

*

“Hey there!” Kira called brightly as she boarded the ship. “How you been doing, stranger—whoa!”

“Kira!” Vajra greeted her delightedly, throwing his arms around her. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

“Umm. Umm. Uhh… did you just ask me ‘what’s wrong?’” Kira pulled back a little bit and looked over Vajra. He looked so different! So… healthy! She ran a hand over his cheeks to make sure he wasn’t just using some disguise or something. She tapped his upper arm, and confirmed that they were now more than skin and bone. “Damn… damn! You’ve changed! You’ve changed!” She pulled him back for a hug, round two. “YOU’RE EATING PROPERLY!” She released him and cheered, tossing a triumphant fist into the air. “WOOOOOOO! Boss, I came here expecting to see you even wispier than you used to be, especially after that message about the nightmares… I’m glad you’ve gotten better. I’m glad!”

“Thanks!” He turned slightly, and Kira saw the woman standing patiently behind him. “Kira Carsen, meet Lana Beniko. Sith Lord, fellow conspirator, and my girlfriend.”

Lana dipped her head. “Hello, Master Carsen—”

“No. No simple ‘helloes’ from you.” Kira seized the startled woman in a tight death grip of a hug. “Look what you’ve done to my boy!” she said delightedly. “Just look at him! I trust I have you to thank for his transformation?”

“I played my part,” the Sith sounded modest, but Kira could Sense the pride. The sense of accomplishment.

“Well, it’s a whole lot more than I was able to do for him. Or even Jasme.” She clapped Lana’s shoulders. “You’re alright!”

“Thank you! And you’re more beautiful and more powerful in person than I thought you’d be.”

“Am I?” Kira asked lightly. “Well, you’re quite the beauty yourself.”

“You flatter me,” Lana inclined her head again. “Compared to you and Jasme—”

“Oh please! The only person in the galaxy hotter than Jasme is Tiarna Kaimeryn! As for me… eh, debatable. So! Do I have the happy couple’s permission to come aboard?”

“We beg you to,” Vajra took her hand. “And not because of the funds. I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too. And Jasme. I wish I could just come along with you right now, but there’s an… incident in progress on Saluecami. Remnants of Toborro the Hutt’s faction are trying to seize control, but we can’t openly fight them yet. Not unless we can get the Hutts on Hutta to disavow the Saleucami Hutts. It’s a godawful mess.”

“I’m sorry for making you leave it.”

“Eh, I needed the break. That place is really hot.”

“How’s Raph?”

“Well, he’s good, but his damn family’s still getting in the way. You’d think, after five years of talks, ‘wed get somewhere. But no!”

“Do you need my help in this?” Lana asked. Her voice was soft yet clear. “My main databank is stored in this ship. I’m certain I have something there about Adumar noble families which might be useful to you.”

“We’re not looking to blackmail anyone. Bad in the long run.”

“Then maybe you could appease them, instead.”

“That works for me. So, let’s get business out of the way, first.” Kira pulled a small case out of her backpack. “Four hundred thousand credits. It’s all I could get together on short notice.”

“That’s more than I was hoping for!” Vajra exclaimed.

“But it might not enough,” Lana said ruefully. “We burned through fifty thousand credits since landing on Rishi. Anything other than food is expensive in Raider’s cove. Unlike our other missions, Rishi has a very big Revanite presence. Defeating them will take time.”

“Well, maybe I can join in, once this crisis on Saleucami is seen to. I can bring in another shipment of credits and stuff for you. Say, maybe I can bring in Scourge, too. He’s probably getting bored, and he’s sitting on a very big fortune that he doesn’t really care about.”

“He’s willing to leave his fortresses?”