Immediately Following Alexandra’s Death in ‘Reprogrammed’….

Peace.

Serenity.

There was only a momentary pang of regret. Alexandra had literally been watching her daughters their whole lives and only now had finally reconnected with them. More importantly, she had the opportunity to see the future of their family.

Little Sammantha.

That was the biggest regret. That she would not have the opportunity to physically watch her grow, to nurture and pass on everything that she had learned in her long journey. As the light embraced her, Alexandra saw Mrysti and Karolin still holding hands. The hands that she had placed together. The rift created by Karolin’s reprogramming would eventually be mended. There was no anger or hate at what happened to her. That it was Karolin who struck the final blow mattered not. As Alex got closer, the light was all that mattered and slowly all of those thoughts just bled away.

Not just the thoughts, the galaxy, the world they were on. Her lifeless body, her two daughters. Everything.

This was the next frontier, the next doorway to another adventure. All at once Alexandra knew everything and nothing all at once, the galaxy had reveled all of its secrets in an instant. She was gone in the physical realm, that time was ended. But now she was timeless. Everywhere and nowhere in the blink of an eye.

Alex walked the hallway and heard the voices. The sound of the many who had gone before her and were still emerging. Some were surprising. Enemies, friends; all of them speaking all at once and passing on the information that she needed to hear in order to pass through the light at the end of the great hall. Alex smiled to herself as the image of the one she knew would be waiting on her stood there. It wasn’t just Bernard. Drogan stood beside him. Alexandra had two great loves in her life. She had out lived them both. Now, she was finally ‘Home’. Stretching out her hands, she took both Bernard and Drogan’s hands in hers and together they all passed through the light. Emotions like jealousy, hate, fear; none of that mattered now. There was only love. Love was the key to everything in the real world, all the others just got in the way. The voices all chattered on until they spoke in unison once she crossed the threshold:

‘All will be well. It is…as the Force Wills it….’

--

-- The Fountain, Tyferra....at the end of 'Inferno'

‘He killed me?!?!’ That thought passed through Karolin’s mind as the last of her life's blood trickled down her chest and she felt the brief flash of cold water once her body was hurled over the side of the cliff. It was all over. Had she played with fire, been played as a fool the whole time? Had she possessed her full power in the Force none of it would have happened. Many questions rummaged around her mind as the cold of the water bled away to warmth.

Then she was there.

“Wha—” Karolin looked around. An endless room, with her reflection cast limitless around herself. “—is this?!?!”

“You’ve been here before. Several times in fact…” Karolin turned sharply and smiled; she recognized the voice. “…both you and your sister.”

“Mother!!!” Lurching forward, Karolin grabbed Alexandra in her arms and hugged her tightly. After embracing her as hard as she could, Karolin let her go and looked around. “I’m dead…I know it and this place is—”

“—it’s in between. They won’t allow you to see beyond, not yet. Even though, as I said, You’ve been there before. We all have. It’s just not your time, my child.” Alexandra paced away and turned back to smile at her oldest daughter. “They made a critical error. Misjudged you and the power of that fountain. You will return shortly, but I wanted to let the two of you see one another before you go back. It will be sometime before you do.” Alexandra looked out and away from Karolin into the beyond. Another figure emerged from the mist and materialized next to them.

“Mother?!?!” Mrysti looked at Karolin next “Karolin?!? Wha—I was just on Odessen and—” Mrysti frowned. “I’m dead…aren’t I?!?!” Mrysti spoke sadly, which made Alexandra smile even brighter.

“Yes, my love…both of you are. But from different points of view. Time….it has no meaning here.” Alexandra sat down and looked up at the both of them from her unseen chair. “This is difficult for me, mostly because…Mrysti you ARE supposed to be here. This IS your time. But as fate would have it, they are going to allow you to be pulled back.” Karolin started to speak as Alexandra held up a hand to silence her, shaking her head. She knew exactly what Karolin was going to say. From Karolin’s point of view, all of that had already happened and Alex had no desire to delve into a debate about time and space. There was no 'time' for it. “You and I are going to get to spend a great deal of time together, Mrysti…I will explain all of it to you. But…” Alexandra stood up and turned to face Karolin. “…if you have anything significant to say to your sister, Karolin. Now would be the time…I have to send you back.”

“Back?!?! But I don’t want to go ba—”

"They?!?! Who is they?!?!" Mrysti spoke annoyingly as she placed her hands on her hips. Karolin looked over at her sister. She looked as she did back then. The shorter hair, the determined look of one who led 'The Coalition' against the Eternal Empire to its final battle and then made the ultimate sacrifice for them all. Patting the air to calm her two daughters, Alexandria took on a more maternal stance.

“All will be revealed in due time. It's a clear indication that neither of you are ready if you're not hearing it." Alex looked up as if she was listening before looking back to them both. "The answers come the second you are in the right place." Turning her gaze to her eldest, Alex smiled. "And it's not your decision, Karolin." Only older than Mrysti by a minute, Karolin was still the oldest of the two. But age didn't equate wisdom. "You are not allowed to make that decision for either of you. Mrysti, made a choice. A good one. This is where she should be. But you…you are about to embark on your greatest journey. But don’t worry, we will see one another again. And as always, I will be right in your ear. Listen. Hear and feel the Unity.” Alexandra smiled once again, placing a hand on Karolin’s shoulder before turning to walk away. “Mrysti, follow your heart once your sister’s gone. I will be….right over there. We have much to discuss....”

The two looked at one another a moment before glancing at their Mother. “I’m sorry, Karolin…I’m sorry I didn’t let you do it. I know you wanted to but I knew the only one who could face Vaylin was me. I took it, I had to. It was worth everything to me.” Karolin wanted to say so much, wanted to impart to Mrysti that all of it had not been for nothing and that she would return. Feeling the stare from afar, Karolin sensed the cautioning eyes of her Mother upon her. Knowing that she should say nothing. Time, it had no meaning. And there was so much Mrysti would not understand. Mrysti would return, that much was certain. Slightly changed, but still back to where she needed to be. Remembering the silencing of her Mother, she simply smiled and took a step back. Already she was feeling the pull, their time was short.

--

‘Remember’

That was the only word she could think of as her eyes opened up underwater. The bubbles of the fountain wafting up and around her. The infusion of life and the Force flowing through her once again. The memory of a moment before faded quickly. That place, her Mother; even Mrysti was suddenly gone from her mind once her eyes looked up at the man who still stood at the foot of the cliff above her. Only a moment before, having cut her throat. Tossing her body into the depths. The blood from that blade still dripped red. Falling in the water. Dissolving above her.

Karolin smiled to herself and extended her arms. Using the Force to pull herself from the water and above the surface.

It was...

‘Show time…’

--

Corellia…One Year Later….

It was rare an industrialized modern planet like Corellia would not have climate control or weather satellites like Coruscant. But the Corellians took pride in the fact that they did not. In some ways, a point of contention between the industrialized Corellia and the ‘so-called’ Jewel of the Republic; the Core world and capital; Coruscant. There were lots of things that set the two apart, only one of them was the weather. And Corellia was all natural. That element of unpredictability was more natural for Corellia in keeping with its rebellious spirit. They didn’t want to be like Coruscant. In more ways than one.

Slowly and over a couple of centuries, Corellia was emerging as the ‘second’ Capital of the Republic. What was once their only claim to fame in industry was slowly giving way to art, literature and of course; Politics. When deals couldn’t be made on Coruscant, many found their way to Corellia to discuss or debate that which could not be debated on the main floor of the Senate on Coruscant. Corellia was a ‘summer home’ to the political spectrum of the Republic. Fascinatingly enough, it was also a place where things that could not get done on Coruscant found their way on Corellia. No one could explain it other than, like the weather; it was unpredictable.

Elder Shad’azan did not want to debate the re-admittance of Mirial on Coruscant. It would have been endless. So many people from sister and brother Republic worlds debating and adding requirements for Mirial to be given back its full membership. A lot of it would have been ‘nerf’. The animal was also a political term for things that got added after the fact, to increase ones own part of a deal. Planets and governments added for their own benefit and that of the world the various Senators represented. None of them would have been in the best interest of Mirial. For the moment, provisional membership was the best Mirial could hope for. It gave them back the protection of the Republic. A key element in the growing galactic conflict and one the Republic could afford to honor. No one wanted to see Mirial fall into the hands of the Empire. As close as Mirial came to doing exactly that under the lash of Elder Telan’dorr during the Mirialan Civil War.

Fine print was not something a great many Senators prided themselves on learning or even memorizing. But Elder Shad’azan did. Hours of reading the scriptures prepared him for the duties which fell on his shoulders following the fall of the ‘Reformation’ on Mirial. That’s what Telan’dorr called it. A Reformation. Really an insurgency, a grab for power and the installation of a dictator in the form of Telan’dorr. Shad’azan was already well versed in the by-laws and Republic Code which governed Republic politics. There were laws and then there was the ‘Code’. Not laws, but rules which the Republic governed by. Much easier than having endless debate on the floor of the Senate, the by-laws needed no vote and merely simplified or clarified the laws which were already in place. Only the 'Code' was not so simple. It was very clear, but long and very detailed. Mirial needed someone able to navigate that 'Code', to fight the legal battles needed to keep Mirial in the Republic. Someone smart, likable and well-connected. They could put anything they wanted in the Code in order to clarify the law. And it was on that point, Shad’azan journeyed to Corellia.

It was strange to him; Mirial was and had always been more of an Oligarchy. The power of the ruling council of Elders, who maintained the scriptures and spoke for the Unity had absolute say in the destiny of the planet. But it was not without limits. Those council members answered to the Unity first and the people second. Not like other planets whose various forms of government went from royalty to absolute domination by a single body. There was no destiny in having one individual tell those who were to be ruled; what it was they should be doing. That was the Unity's job. It was one of the reasons Mirialans became ambassadors and crusaders of the faith. Spreading the word of the Unity throughout the galaxy. Some called it ‘Crusading’. Shad’azan was only concerned with one soul to save and it was Mirial itself. And he absolutely believed that Mirial and the Republic had a shared destiny together.

Standing as the other Mirialan entered the room, his face betrayed the joy at seeing her. A smile he could not help but try to hide. For a moment, Shad’azan knew what fans of holo-stars and pop-culture icons felt like. His skin flushed, a warm feeling coming over him as she crossed the room. The other Mirialan was just as beautiful in person as she was on holo and every bit as large as she was made out to be in real life. Not physically, of course; the other Mirialan only stood a little over five feet tall, but she seemed to fill the space between them with the smile she held and the way she carried herself once she entered. Shad’azan folded his hands in front of himself and bowed deeply as the other continued to make her way toward him.

“Ancestors watch over you, Karolin De’nabre…may the Unity continue to guide your actions.”

“And to you Elder…May the Unity give you the wisdom you require to guide Mirial…”

Bringing her hands up, Karolin placed them together palms in and bowed toward the Elder in response. It was a small chamber in the Corellian Customs House which the Elder requested Karolin meet him. The customs house, like so many others was a place of business and politics. A place where the two entites came together to shape the economy of Corellia. A fitting place for the conversation to be had.

The two Mirialans sat across from one another, not saying anything at first. The trip found Karolin being called away from business on Coruscant. The Order had once again made its intentions clear. Karolin could not very well be given a position of prominence within the Jedi, but they could not afford to allow her to be idle either. There was much debate on what to do with so powerful a Jedi. These facts were not unknown to Shad’azan.

“You’re probably wondering why I asked to see you. And in all places…here on your adopted world of Corellia.” Mirial was Karolin’s home, but Corellia was her adopted homeworld. The place where she and her sister were raised by the Jedi in one of the many ‘Green’ orphanages ran by the Jedi Order. It was not until many years later that Karolin learned of her birthright and made claim to Mirial.

“I assume, it’s ‘State’ business….” A strange way of putting it. Mirial was not a ‘state’ nor did any Mirialan see it that way. It was almost as if Karolin was reading Shad’azan and knew why the Elder was there. It was going to make what he had to propose so much easier. The Elder was one of the few on the Council would was not ‘touched’ by the Unity. He had little to no ability to use the Force.

“Strange that you would put it quite that way. But yes, I am here on official business. Unity be praised, it has led me to you. Your destiny lies with Mirial, Karolin De’nabre. I, for one, have always believed that.” The Elder sat back and smiled. Karolin sat forward, a brow turned up curiously. She waited for the Elder to continue, a strange silence darkening the room as the Elder searched for words. Outside, a horn blew in the distance. Shift change for one of the many industries there on Corellia. “As you are no doubt aware, Mirial is no longer a full member of the Republic; due to the unfortunate circumstances involving our recent civil strife and the reconstruction of the Council.” The Elder raised his hands palms up as if searching for guidance and clarity from the Unity. “Unity grant me wisdom, this is difficult to discuss…I find myself at a lost for words in your presence. As one who was directly involved with the effort to dethrone Telan’dorr and with the Elder being your cousin…this has become somewhat of a contentious matter.”

It was still a secret among Karolin and the rest of her close family that Telan'dorr had escaped captivity. No one outside of the De'nabre knew that. And had the Elder sitting across from Karolin had any idea the man responsible for the conversation they were having was alive, it could very well have been an entirely different conversation to be had.

“What has?” Karolin’s face crinkled in confusion. Though she was searching the Elder’s thoughts and emotions, she found the man to be scattered all over as he spoke. His thoughts a collage of image and outburst. The Elder was wrestling with the right words. Reaching forward, Karolin grabbed his hand at the wrist and squeezed gently. “Elder, calm yourself. Have clarity. Know that my faith and my allegiance to Mirial is unquestioning. There is nothing you or the council could ask of me, that I will not do.” He seemed to let out a pent-up sigh once she spoke, smiling sheepishly.

“Thank you for that. Perhaps your confidence is exactly what I needed.” The Elder relaxed as Karolin released him and sat back.

“So, tell me Elder…what has brought you to Corellia. And tell me…what is it ‘I’ can do for Mirial….”

--

- Naboo, Royal Academy of Arts and Sciences....

“A distinguished fellow of the Alderaanian Academy of Arts and Sciences as well as the Coruscanti School of Medicine; this next speaker needs no introduction. Holder of several advanced degrees in the medical sciences; she is considered by some to the be the leading expert of eugenics and genetics in the galaxy. Author of the latest biomedical explanation of the ‘Inferno’ virus and discoverer of its cure; she is currently taking a leave of absence following the death of her husband; Our Duke....Derrick Veruna and has graciously agreed to speak with us today. Ladies and gentlemen….I give you; Her Royal Highness; Dr. V’ictoria Alpha….Duchess of Veruna.”

Approaching then lectern, V’ictoria waited until the applause died down before she looked out at the crowd and nodded slightly. She did not smile, nor acknowledge anyone individually. For a moment, she felt like the first-year intern again, a shyness coming over her as she adjusted her glasses which were now only for show. Something to make her appear more demure and less intimidating. A disguise. As the thrall of students and faculty sat down, V’ictoria looked up and cleared her throat.

“Thank you, ladies and gentlemen. It is a pleasure to be here at the Naboo Academy of Galactic Medicine. I accepted the invitation in order to honor my husband, who unfortunately did not live to see me finally take his advice and come before you all today.” V’ictoria paused at the mention of Derrick, adjusting her glasses as she looked down. “I was asked to speak on subjects related to my field and then perhaps take some questions. I would like to begin today by recounting something I read that was written by one of your noted scholars as it relates to my own work. ‘Nature vs. Nurture’ and our ability to effect change in both….”

V’ictoria adjusted her glasses again as the room fell dead silent. An apprehension coming over her as she cleared her throat. Beginning to speak, an image passed through her head related to the words she was about to say. First, it was of Derrick and his many requests for her to speak in front of the Academy. That thought made her smile slightly. He would have been tickled to see her standing before so many. All of them hanging on her every word. Derrick always wanted V’ictoria to do more teaching and less work in her lab.

The second image was that of Mrysti. As the words came together, V’ictoria realized why she thought of her. The fact that Mrysti was missing had nothing to do with why she thought of the green behemoth. It had everything to do with the subject of her lecture.

“….Nature, will always find a way to effect change on its own. Over a period of time, you will see the natural course of evolution move and absorb its surroundings. Take a man-made structure; any structure. Left unkempt, over time the environment will endeavor to absorb and erase it in order to move on its own. It takes time, decades; sometimes a century. But at long last, you will see what man has built erased from the landscape. Our genetic code works very much the same way. We cannot change what we are at our core. Humanoids are built to be a certain way. We can change the code, improve it; enhance the very essence of what we are, but at our core we are still the same. It is only in the nurturing aspect of that change we maintain what it is that we have altered. It must be constantly tended to, less it fall to nature’s natural course; the code itself self-correcting to align with the core of our person. The majority of my work has been to stimulate change in the genetic code of humanoids in order to produce a result. But at long last I have come to realize that all change, even major change is completely fallible.”

Standing up, a handsome very young Doctor whom V’ictoria didn’t recognize stood and smiled condescendingly. “Doctor--I'm sorry, Your Highness…if I may…” V’ictoria stepped back from the lectern to allow the man to speak. The first of many questions she was sure would follow. The words she spoke, contrary to almost every ounce of work she done in the past. “…this is a step back from your previous work. I…as many of my colleagues here; were under the impression that you were an advocate of permanent change in the genome of your subjects.”

“Is there a question in there somewhere?” V’ictoria adjusted her glasses again, anxious to cut the young Doctor off.

“Yes, forgive me.” The young man took on a more defiant pose, crossing his arms over his chest. “Are you now saying, that no amount of work will effect change in the subjects used for your testing?”

“Yes.” V’ictoria said without hesitation. Again, an image of Mrysti flashed through her mind. It made Vicky smile to herself slightly. “What you have to understand is…” She watched as the Doctor was being pulled back to his seat by his peers in order to let V’ictoria speak. “….We are, who we are at our very core. Call it…mysticism, spirituality…whoever or whatever in this great big galaxy made us and decided what our purpose was supposed to be. We all serve as a part of a greater whole. Change is inevitable. But regardless if we do it through artificial means or a person suddenly realizes what their purpose is, we cannot change at our core what we were destined, by the galaxy, to be.”

V'ictoria grasped both sides of the lectern, her knuckles turning white from the strain as she peered deeply toward the young scientist who dare challenge her. A wicked smile came across her features, part of the old and ancient V'ictoria returning to the surface in that moment.

"There are....monsters among us. There have always been, monsters among us. We all are waiting for them to wake up and realize who and what they are. And no amount of alterations will change a person at their core. Once a monster....always a monster."

--

- Imperial Prison Facility known as 'The End'....Undisclosed Portion just inside of Wild Space....

A journey that was nearly over. With no direct hyperspace route and over five hundred calculated jumps completed, the crew of the prison barge were ready for a long, long vacation. No one envied those who were chosen to go to this remote location. It was almost as if the crew of the ship and the guards there-in were as much prisoners as those they carried.

The prison barge made a slow docking maneuver as the little light cast through the tiny portholes of the ship turned to dock. The ship loudly locked into place as the high-pitched whine of engines and mechanisms steadied the ship and made ready for unloading procedures. All of the other prisoners were unloaded first. Mrysti being held back because she was in a caged enclosure all by herself. The block she was encased in gleamed in the low light of the shuttles interior lighting.

One of the men stepped forward to operate the mechanism in order to unfreeze her. Smokey carbonite ebbed from the enclosure as the mechanism began its procedure. Once it was done and they heard the ‘thump’ of a body land on the ground; all of the uniformed and armored guards stepped forward. The guards approached cautiously, exchanging a glance toward one another before looking in on the Dark Lord. Mrysti sat with her hands in her lap, eyes closed as she felt the environment around her recovering from the long journey; to where, she did not know. Shock wrists and collar could not cut her off from the Force. But she had long decided to ride all of it out, make no trouble until she could find out what the real reason she was being sent away actually was.

Sticking large durasteel poles through the bars, the guards locked them into place on her neck collar and made a vain attempt to make her stand. Getting annoyed by all the pulling, Mrysti stood on her own and to test her theory of how dangerous they thought she was, Mrysti lurched forward and grimaced. ‘AGGGHH!!’

Several of the guards fell back as one activated the stun setting attached from the pole to the collar Mrysti wore, she screamed and fell to her knees, grabbing the pole with one hand. It stressed under her strength as she looked at the guard who activated it. Once they thought they had the Dark Lord under control again, she stood and looked at the lead guard. “Do that again…you won’t have a hand to activate that setting…”

“Shut up!!!” A guard to her side made a move to strike her, she leered at him and halfway through his move he stopped and went back to holding the pole. None of them wishing to tempt fate. Stun poles and collars aside, none of them were too sure there was any amount of equipment or chain which could hold her if she did not wish to be held. They were not wrong, Mrysti was choosing to be there. For the moment.

These were not guards assigned to this particular prison. Evidenced by the fact that once they got Mrysti to the threshold, they released the poles which kept her at bay. The fastening devices clicked off loudly from her neck as a ray shield came down around her, separating her from the guard detail and the rest of the prison. She looked back at them, all of the guards looking relieved as they and their extension poles retreated back toward the ship she was brought in.

Looking ahead at the dimly lit corridor, Mrysti sneered to herself. Automated voice. Though she had the sense that whomever was in charge was most definitely watching her. Proceeding forward, Mrysti continued to look around spotting the holo-cams and recorders as she moved. A ray shield fell down in front of her stopping her progress. Another high-pitched whine as portholes on both sides of the wall opened up.

Smiling to herself, Mrysti looked up; directly at the holo-cam above her. Stretching her arms above her head and pulling off the top of the white jumpsuit she was wearing. As she dropped the shirt, she heard it get sucked into the floor through another porthole which she hadn’t seen before. Reaching down, she slipped the pants off and kicked the shoes from her feet. Standing in the buff she stretched her arms out to her side and did a turn for the cam, still looking up at it as if to say. ‘Here I am…’

--

“An interesting specimen….wouldn’t you say?” The Warden looked back over his shoulder toward the Captain of his guard force. Both men’s eyes glued to the image which was being transmitted through the holo-scanner. As Mrysti turned, still looking up at them the Warden turned fully around to catch the gaze of his Captain, who did not answer his question. “Wouldn’t you say?”

“Y-yes…Sir. I mean…don’t you know who that is?!?!” The Captain stammered as he pointed toward Mrysti’s image. “The damned ‘Hammer of the Empire’…did you ever think that—I mean, why?!?! Why here, of all places?!? A Dark Lord is one thing, though they are usually executed, but imprisonment and HER…there is something going on for—”

The Warden smiled and raised a hand to silence him before turning his gaze back toward the image.

“—do not concern yourself with things above your pay grade. The reason she’s here is known to me and to me alone. You have no need to know and trust me when I say, we have plans for her….” The Warden’s eyes got wide, looking the figure up and down noting the scars and body tattoos. “Ready your men…we will need to ‘educate’ her quickly on how we do things here. I will contact those who sent her and ensure them that things are underway….”

--

Lowering her arms, injectors came out of the wall on both sides, pressing into her shoulders as they sprayed their toxins into her system. Mrysti grimaced again and sneered before the entire ray shield area was flooded with some kind of antiseptic gas. Mrysti gave a slight cough and stepped forward as the ray shield lowered.

“—result in punishment.” Mrysti said sarcastically. “Yes, I get it. I am a prisoner. I either listen to instructions and comply or you will find some way of punishing me.” The voice did not respond to Mrysti or acknowledge her tone.

Once she reached the end of the walk it opened up into a room. More portholes opened on the far side as shelving came out offering up the bedding and supplies she was to receive. Stepping forward she took them and waited. Though she didn’t wait long before a doorway opened on the far side. The high-pitched whine which had accompanied her the entire way died out as did the power. The holo-cams in the room fell slack at the loss of power. Mrysti nodded and smiled to herself as four guards stepped through the door, it closed behind them. Taking out batons, Mrysti realized what kind of integration this was going to be and it was not to be recorded.

Moving her neck side to side with an audible pop, Mrysti dropped the bedding she held and turned toward the guards. Flexing and interlacing her fingers, bouncing slightly before popping her knuckles. It had been a long trip. Not really sure of how much time passed while she was in carbonite, it couldn't have been too long. There was no blindness. Only a bit of blurriness from the Carbonite.

“You should have left those cameras on…now you’ve given me all the excuse I need to kill each one of you.” The guards looked at one another, as one lunged toward her. Grabbing the flailing man around the neck as he passed, Mrysti quickly snapped it like a twig discarding the limp guard on the ground. Already the other guards were moving in, Mrysti kicked the second and slammed the third on the ground as the guard lunged toward her, stun-stick first.

Stomping down, Mrysti crushed the third guard’s skull using the guard she had in her grip as a weapon. Throwing him at the final guard in order to get some distance. There was no need to use the force. These men were no match for her. If this was a test, it was a poor one. The last guard backed up toward the wall as Mrysti closed in.

“You made a mistake. I was going to comply…”

Punching him in the chest, Mrysti felt bones crack and the wispy sound of punctured lung and escaping air. Perhaps one or two of them would survive, but they would be eating out of an automated machine for the rest of their lives. Reaching down she picked up the bedding and looked up as the power came back on. A wicked smile creasing her face once she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.

--

“Hmmm…” The Warden placed a hand to his chin. Though the normal holo-cams had been deactivated for his little ‘test’, he was able to watch it all. There was none of the flamboyance of other Sith Lords in the attack. Mrysti used no ‘magic tricks’, she simply overpowered them. Reaching out, the Warden ran is fingers over the image and smiled. “Oh…you beauty…you and I—yes, we will have some adventures….”

--

- Malastare, Jedi Detention Facility, Republic Embassy Sector….

How many times in the last month had this happened? Traditionally ‘Grace’ did not concern herself with physically going to retrieve her sister. But in this case, she had little choice. The Jedi on Malastare were going to send Sammantha to Coruscant to be censured by the Council. Getting off the shuttle, Grace pulled out the datapad to look at the images again, having no idea what her younger ‘sister’ could have been thinking.

There it was, in the blue holo-phase of a recorded image. Sam jumping down from the rooftop, the flash of a double-bladed lightsaber coming to life and the blur of movement as Sam attacked those who were attacking someone else. Hero. The word came to mind. Only this was not the act of a Jedi or any hero Grace could think of. This was petty, beneath the power and respect a Jedi was expected to command. And very below the power of the one chosen to be the ‘Unity’s Paladin’. Grace grit her teeth as she was ushered to a waiting speeder by two fellow Jedi and whisked away toward the Republic area.

The younger version of herself, Sam was going through something. Grace was the ‘copy’, an alternate version of who Sam could have become. But Grace had grown so much farther than her expected capability. Truly nurtured to become more than her genetic parts. Thinking on that, Grace knew there were a lot of factors which helped to define that evolution. Environment, the people she came in contact with and befriended. Most of all her faith. The Unity was the key, giving herself over the Will of the Force and the Unity had forged her into the crusader the Unity needed. What had happened to Sam? What was causing this rebelliousness? Grace was now faced with the unsavory prospect of having to force her younger sister to confront whatever it was making her act out. The entire exercise with Sam was becoming tiresome. Especially when there were so many more important things they both could be doing.

Landing softly in a padded spot close to the detention facility, Grace hopped out and continued to think on how to approach things. If only their Mother were there. At the very least, Mrysti would find a way to ‘force’ whatever Sam was doing to herself to stop. Mrysti had a way like that. Grace’s own soft approach to things would not work in this case. They needed a heavier hand. They needed Mrysti.

Passing through the checkpoint, Sam handed over her lightsaber and proceeded though a ray shield and a vaulted door. Perhaps it was Mrysti’s absence in itself that was part of the problem. Both Sam and Grace leaned on Mrysti in times of turmoil and with her absence; there was no rock in which ground themselves to.

Placing her hands on her hips, Grace looked off to the side and nodded; allowing whomever was controlling the individual cells to lower the ray shield. Sam stood up at seeing her sister and shook her head. It was Sam who struck first, raising a hand to Grace as she started toward her. “I don’t wanna hear it…all I was doing was stopping that assault. I had no idea one of the guys was an undercover officer. What was he doing participating anyway, he deserved what he—” Sam ran into Grace’s outstretched hand backing up a step as Grace stepped inside. The ray shield went back up behind her. “What tha kriff…I thought we were leaving.” Grace narrowed her eyes.

“Oh…I may be leaving. You may not.” Folding her arms over her chest, Grace glared down at her sister. “I don’t know what it is you think you are trying to do here…or why you’re doing some of the things you have been. Perhaps you’re testing out you’re new found freedom in this galaxy, flexing your young adult acumen as it were. But you are neglecting your duties. Using your powers in ways that not only demean yourself, but also demean the Order and the Unit—” Sam was busy mocking Grace with her hand, moving it in time with Grace’s mouth. Grace grit her teeth taking a step forward.

With a flash and quick motion, Grace slapped the outstretched hand of her sister and lashed the same fingers around her younger versions neck. In an instant, Grace saw red. No one could get under her skin quite like Sam or Mrysti. It was one of the few catalysts that pushed Grace close to losing control. The movement, however, was calculated. Slamming Sam against the walk behind the younger girl, Grace lifted her up slightly. Alpha enhanced muscles and the Force curling around to give Grace the extra strength to lift and squeeze.

“You think this is a joke?” Grace pursed her lips, curling into disgust. “The only joke here is YOU. Ever since you returned you have been on a downward spiral. Now you will listen to me or I will allow these Jedi to take you home…perhaps the Council will be lenient. Or perhaps I tell them to bury you in the bowels of the Temple and forget about you.” Grace dropped Sam and turned her back on her sister, softening her tone. “I realize…Mother’s absence has affected you. I too, feel the same loss. As if a piece of ourselves has been taken from us. And…this thing between you and Bernard....” Grace turned in time to see Sam look down in shame. “I’m not sure why you did what you did. We are all prone to acts of weakness. But you have learned your lesson. That Mandalorian only wanted one thing…a conquest and once he got it, YOU got what you deserved. Our actions have consequence Sam, you will accept the responsibility for your actions and start making choices that make sense. All of this acting out…must end.”

“Kriff them!! And kriff you—” Sam started to stand, again Grace turned with a quickness pushing Sam back down on the durasteel slat attached to the wall, which served as a makeshift bed and seat for the tiny cell.

“You are not listening to me.” Grace sat herself down on the floor, crossing her legs and steepling her hands. “Fine. Neither one of us are leaving until you do. I have all of the time in the world. But together, you and I will get to the bottom of your problems. I have neglected you long enough. It was my hope that you would somehow see beyond what it is that is driving you to rebel. But I see, my patience and faith in you was squandered.”

“Oh whatever!!” Sam stood up and paced away. “Like you give a shit!! Look, Grace…I appreciate you coming out here ‘personally’ to get me. I do. But you have no idea what I’m going through. So why don’t you just open up the shield and then you and Reager can go back to planning babies or something…I don’t have time for you.”

A long silence passed. Grace did not move. Long enough for Sam to get frustrated by the time and silence that she sat back down.

“If you were wondering about food, I plan on using several Force techniques to extend my life in the event you considered trying to starve me out. And I am extremely adept at them.” Sam looked up and scowled as Grace continued. “The fact is, I do give a ‘shit’, as you put it. I AM you, more than that…I happen to love you. And you are correct, I do not know what it is that has you plagued at the moment, that’s why I’m here.” Grace looked down and swallowed hard, forcing a smile as she looked back up. “Reager is a good man. Far too good for me. And I fear in bringing him closer to the Unity, I have only succeeded in pushing him further away. New doors have opened for him, I can feel it. Our destinies are no longer along the same path.” Grace smiled again. “I am…very happy for him. I am. Truly.” Nodding as if she were trying to convince herself. “The Unity has great things in store for him.”

Frowning at the revelation, Sam leaned forward and placed a hand on her sister’s shoulder. “Hey, kriff him. If it ain’t meant to be…it ain’t meant to be.” Having no idea what Grace was talking about, Sam still felt guilty for bringing up something that was obviously sensitive. Releasing a sigh, Sam sat back and slapped her legs loudly. “Ok…you want it. Here it is.” Grace looked up, canting her head slightly as she waited. “The reason I feel like I’m losing control is because, I have none…in that ‘other’ place the Force was so strong. There were not many of us, so few in fact that we could nearly feel once another across entire sectors of space, as if the Force was leading us to one another. I ran into a few here and there, but the power…it was limitless. Infinite almost.” Swallowing hard, Sam banged her head against the wall and closed her eyes. “Here. I am just me. I want to feel that power again, to get control. To be able to control for good…to stomp out the evil that plagues all of us. I fought that evil, confronted it and won. Now, I barely have the power lift a cup. What am I—more than that, HOW am I supposed to be the vanguard of the Unity if I feel so powerless?”

--

- Bothawui, Republic Battle Zone, inside Phase Line Delta….

It was not a truth RT was prepared to accept. That Darth Malgus was personally leading the forces which were overrunning Bothawui. What was creating the Imperial momentum? Almost overnight, the Imperial war machine ramped up. In actuality, it took over a year. Darth Malgus, who did not make the mistakes he made last time in trying to proclaim himself ‘Emperor’, was consolidating his power and his hold over the Dark Council. Ruling by sheer will and bending those consolidated Spheres of Influence to his own. It was Darth Malgus, his presence, his mere existence that was driving the Imperial War Machine.

The Sith abhorred a vacuum. It happened when The Emperor disappeared. Malgus tried, he failed. Darth Marr led the Sith during the Emperor's absence. The Republic equivalent of an Imperial Hero of Legend. He died for those beliefs. Acina filled the void, led the Sith out of the darkness, doing what she had to do in order to ensure their survival. Thank goodness she did not capitalize on the Republic's weakness during the Eternal Empire's incursion.

Now they had Malgus back. One who hated the Republic, Democracy, freedom and most of all the Republic's closest allies; the Jedi, more than anything.

And all of it coincided with Mrysti’s disappearance. The temperance garnered by Empress Acina during the War with the Eternal Empire was long gone. Moderate Darth’s, like Mrysti, were replaced or had simply disappeared in favor of the hawkish War Mongers now running the Empire. RT looked down at the battle board. He had his orders and they were tall ones: ‘Locate and Eliminate Darth Malgus by any means necessary.’ He didn’t need to hear those under his command to know their feelings toward the mission. It was why the job was given to Shadow Squad, they always performed the impossible.

The General stared down at the holo-map and adjusted settings to filter out unnecessary things, focusing in on the strategic Command and Control sections of the Imperial Army. Those he knew were in control. Thankfully, not much had changed in Imperial Structure. The Sith still thought themselves above the normal rank and file. As Always, there were two headquarters that traveled together. One being the Imperial Army, the other being the Sith.

Leaning over the table, RT zoomed in on the holo-recording of a fly-by drone. Something close to the mountains which stood so far away from the main fighting that it could only be high level command and control. It was a long shot. Darth Malgus was a very ‘hands on’ Commander. The Republic saw that first hand during the Sacking of Coruscant. The man walked into the Jedi Temple, alone. Even if Malgus was not at the main Imperial Headquarters, going there would inevitably lead them to him.

Standing up, RT pursed his lips. It was time to get the crew together. Preparations, rehearsal and eventual deployment. This was going to be ugly and most likely bloody. His first act, RT moved to his personal data terminal and sat down beginning to move his hands in the holo-field. This would be something he would command all of those under his command to do before they left, RT just needed to get it out of the way first.

--

- Malastare, Jedi Detention Facility, Republic Embassy Sector….

They talked for a long time. Honestly for the first time. Something they had not done since Sam returned from the far side of not only time, but another galaxy all together. Grace finally understood why and what had been plaguing Sam and it was a collage of factors. Having to live up to her destiny in ending the Curse that plagued their family once and for all; that curse being the embodiment of the one they both trusted above all others, their Mother. That in itself shook her to the core. The pressure of reuniting with Bernard and then losing him because of the many things which plagued her. A tryst she had with a young Mandalorian being the crux of it all. And finally, feeling as if she was not the Jedi she should have been, because she wasn’t. Grace took responsibility for that one. Sam had big shoes to fill. The Unity always asked much and gave little. And if you were not one-hundred percent secure in your faith, you could very easily lose your way.

Sam went into some detail about her many adventures in that other galaxy. Being chased by a Sith named Vader. The Nexu and rodent games they played with one another for years. Getting close to one another, only to have one or the other pull back. The Rebellion, which struck out and fought for galactic freedom. The lack of Jedi and Justice in the galaxy. It was truly a wild time and not anything Grace would have ever imagined the Galaxy could fall into. Given the state of the galaxy currently, it was maybe not so far-fetched. But NO Jedi. How that was even possible? Grace couldn’t imagine. Sam explained it, but Grace still couldn’t believe it. That the Jedi could ever be blind to the machinations of the Sith. The two, so diametrically opposed. But so unified in the Force. One could not exist without the other. The Sith understood that. The Force would always have balance. It was the Will.

Getting up, Grace gave a sympathetic look. She said nothing at last, only leaning forward to take her younger self in a hug and hold her tightly. Sam pulled Grace in close and leaned in, closing her eyes as she returned the embrace. “You probably think I'm crazy.” Sam murmured.

“No” Grace said softly. “Not at all.” Grace rocked with her sister softly as she smiled to herself. “I think…you’re finally home sweetie. And together, we will endeavor to solve your problems and bring you back to the Unity.”

--

Imperial Outpost 827, Near Endor….Outer Rim Territories….

“For crimes too numerous to name….” The Imperial Commander was speaking loudly over the din of the forest around him. Things were getting loud around the garrison, something stirring up the forest. “…You, one Waylon Ferrun, are condemned to die by hanging. As ordered but the Imperial magistrate in this sector and in accordance with the Laws of Land warfare. May the Force Serve You in the Afterlife.” After looking up toward the captive, the Commander stepped down off the raised platform and started to climb down the stairs. Raising his right hand up as he walked, with every intention of dropping it once he reached the bottom stair.

And once the bottom stair was reached, the Commander dropped his hand in time with a flash of light. The light was not something that was supposed to happen. Just the sound of the trapdoor below the standing prisoner dropping and the sound of a synthrope getting tight from the sudden drop of weight it was attached to. The Commander turned with a start, two different ends of the rope burned through and the prisoner standing; already struggling to get the bindings off his wrists.

“GET HIM!!! GET HIM NOW!!” The Commander drew the blaster off his hip, pointing it up the stairs.

--

Moving his head away from the holo sight the HUD system in his helmet disconnected from the rifle with the movement, verifying the accuracy of the shot which was well beyond both the HUD and the rifle's parameters. The computers in the helmet and in the rifle told him it couldn’t be done. But Marstel knew better, speaking out loud inside the helmet. “Time ta git movin’…the’re liable ta be pissed ‘bout tha’ one.”

Came the voice back into Marstel’s HUD. Cypher was moving. It was what had the forest in an uproar. Marstel and his team moving in and around the small Imperial garrison. This was still new for Marstel. Cypher thinking herself a 'peer'. Actions during the 'Inferno' situation, giving Cypher/Anna a new found sense of Independence. Marstel encouraged it, at his peril. She was still so young, so inexperienced. Self assurance could only take you so far. A warning Amalgom so often reminded Marstel of, as the Chiss continued his vigil over the object of his affections. But, A debt was a debt. Marstel owed one. As far as he was concerned, that debt was paid when he shot the synthrope in half. But it wasn’t over.

“You kno’….” Marstel was already up, moving his massive form at faster than he looked speed toward the waiting speeder bike. His voice sounded as if he was sitting in an easy hoverchair. “…jus’ because ‘Jax made ya an’ honorary Mando…don’ mean ya ‘r one.” With those words and a hop on the bike, Marstel looked at the tracking ID’s in his HUD. Cypher was almost there. That brought a smile. The other tracking ID was the source of the smile. Amalgom was already inside the garrison.

--

The blaster pointed up the stairs, the Imperial Troopers moved in. Waylon rolled off the platform in time with incoming blaster bolts. And the sound of a vibroblade swiping and cutting. It always made smacking and popping sounds. Something Waylon was all too familiar with. Landing on the ground, he looked up to see the body land right in front of his. Eyes wide and lifeless, the Imperial Commander had a shocked smattering of blood on his face from the slice, the sound of footfalls moving away as the short image of someone passing phased out of existence in the scattering of a stealth field. More grunts, blaster fire and the sound of battle. Waylon’s hands were still tied to his front, using them as leverage to roll further away from the sound of strife.

He rolled right into a big foot stopping any further progress. Already on his back, Waylon looked up into an all too familiar helmeted face.

The sound of the voice made Waylon scoff. Marstel bent down to hoist Waylon up and cut his bindings.

“Oh kriff you Marstel….Nobody asked you to come.” There was a hint of annoyance in his voice. Waylon scoffing again as he rubbed his wrists. The sound of dying battle on the other side of the platform coming to an end. “I gave that up after….”

Marstel and Waylon exchanged a look.

“No…” Waylon shook his head. Cypher and Amalgom made their way to the other side as Waylon exchanged glances with the both of them before narrowing his eyes back on Marstel. “…you got an angle. You always have a plan, within a plan, within a plan. Somethin’ else brought you out here….”

Insightful as always. Marstel smiled inside the visor of his helmet and led back the way they came in. Through the hole in the fence line. Cypher leaned in to Amalgom as they walked.

“He ain’t wrong….” She whispered to the Chiss.

--

Several Years before, The Battle of Voss-Ka….Vaylin’s and the Eternal Empire’s Attack on the Voss….

This is what they live for. Live to die. Live for the service of the Clan. Live for the honor that death in that service will surely bring. Clan Ne’takal had helped turn the tide. The Mandalorians were on the offensive and for the first time in a century, completely united. All of them under one banner against the Eternal Empire. That was the gift that this new enemy had brought to the galaxy. Their own doom at the hands of a unified Mandalorian people. What was humorous about all of it, the Eternals didn’t even realize what they done by uniting the major powers against them. Regardless of prior affiliation the Clans all set that aside to fight this common enemy. There was even talk of a return to the days of the Neo-crusades. Mandalorian and Mandalorian culture once again spreading throughout the galaxy. Regardless if those who wanted it, wanted them or not.

The battle plan was constantly changing. As all tactical plans did during the heat of battle. But all of them were linked into the central plexus of Mandalore herself. They saw the changes in real time. The Eternal Empire was redirecting their forces in a strange manner. What the Mandalorians thought was a straight scorch and burn campaign on the part of the Eternal Empire had suddenly taken a strange turn. All of the forces committed to destroying the city, including the Eternal Empire’s aerial assets, suddenly turned to take up a blocking position. Cutting off access to an entire section of Voss and Voss-Ka. All of the roads and avenues of approach they were blocking leading to one place.

Waylon pressed the side of his helmet to listen closer. He couldn’t have heard that right. There was always a point of contention between those field commanders who watched the battle through holo-light and those who were on the ground. Distance and time seemed to have little meaning to those in the command suite. Waylon could see it, could see what was happening even before the order came down. A kinder, gently way of saying. 'You're not here, you couldn't possibly know.'

The Clan leader knew the stakes and of what Mandalore was asking. In turn he was not asking Waylon, he was giving direction. An entire Clan, his Clan’s assets; were being redirected to one end.

Waylon intoned reluctantly. There was no need to issue orders. This was something they lived and trained for. Already the Clan was moving in unison. A well-oiled and well-rehearsed machine of precision and experience. The attack began as soon as the other battle was disengaged. The objective and their position already so close to one another. Waylon saw the writing on the wall. Disengaging from one, to allow the enemy on that flank to regroup. He hoped the Eternal Empire was slow and not all that intelligent. But a young Mandalorian of only basic skill could have seen it. Like a vice, they were closing themselves inside.

Icons began to wink out on the HUD display. Mandalorians dying as their status changed from green to red, to simply gone. Waylon saw those in time with the flash and concussion of sonic rounds. The Eternals did not want anyone coming their direction or getting close to the Temple.

Crawling toward the blaster, Waylon grunted and wrapped his fingers around it. Turning to see the formerly disengaged Eternal line approaching from the flank. He whispered into his HUD. Raising the blaster to fire on his attackers, just as another round hit within the middle of the Mandalorian attack formation.

--

Coalition Flagship ‘Honor’……immediately following the victory on Voss……

Victory. Whose victory? Medical droids moved around the collection of Soldiers. All from various factions supporting the Alliance and the Coalition. All the ships in the fleet did it. Get as many of the dead and wounded up into space and into treatment as soon as possible. Sort out where they belonged later on.

One particular Soldier was of special interest to Marstel. The lone survivor of one of the most devastating artillery barrages he or anyone else had ever seen. And even after all of the devastation, the concussion and shattering. The Mandalorian stood up and fought on. The lone warrior against an entire Army. He was the last. The last of his Clan. All sacrificed as they were told to be, had been born to be. Marstel couldn’t let him die. Picking him up off the battle field and getting him to ‘The Honor’ as soon as he could. Already lists and locations were being queried. Marstel knew he was a Mandalorian, but not what Clan. Karolin was going to have to use her influence with Shae Vizla on this particular case.

Marstel started to step away, the weak hand wasn’t so weak. It clasped his wrist and threatened to pull him back with strength from beyond the grave. The shattered face turned toward the large Ratataki. Sounds of laser scalpels and suction devices continuing their work to replace in the man what had been destroyed.

“A-are…th-they dead…”

The bodies that formerly laid scattered around the warrior on the battlefield made the question obvious. Marstel looked away as the hand let him go. Even under a suppression field in a stasis chamber the Mandalorian scoffed. Marstel turned back.

“Buh…hugh live. You earned tha’ life, my friend….” Marstel said softly. Waylon tried to sit up, straining under the field until he relaxed and grit his teeth. One good eye still wide and blazoned on the Ratataki.

“Yo-you dishonor me…I-I was me-meant to die. M-my life mea-means nothing now….tha-that was wh-what I earned…th-that de-death....”

Marstel turned away, allowing the droids to continue their work. Not really sure what the man meant. Perhaps he was just delusional from all of the pain suppressors. Karolin stood watch at the administration suite. Taking a break from using her own power to help assist the droids and the doctors in their treatment. As Marstel walked in, she could see he was distressed. To a normal person, Marstel was unreadable. But Karolin knew. And seeing him talk to the man he brought in; Karolin stood at her brother’s approach.

“I made inquiries to Shae. We are already sending the Mandalorians a detailed accounting of their warriors. As soon as they are ready to move, we will ship them to their own medical facilities.”

Marstel was looking out of the window which separated the administration suite from the main medical bay. His hand to his mouth. “Wait on tha’ wun….” Karolin moved in beside her brother and watched him stare.

“As you wish…I thought you wanted to get him home. You know how important family is to the Mandalorians.”

“Yea” Marstel said sadly, “Unless tha’ family is gone….”