- Galactic City, Coruscant - Residential District, 5000 Republica; The Apartment of the Mirialan Senator….

“Let me ask you something, General….” RT started the question just as the speeder stopped. Causing his aide to look up from the work she was conducting; realizing the speeder had already stopped and scrambling to grab her things before the driver got out to open the door for them. She paused, looking at her charge.

“Yes, Sir?” Trisitan was still trying to gather her things, albeit slower as she gave RT her nearly full attention. The door opened as the driver stood at attention allowing him to get out, continuing his question. Trisitan dropped her holo-pad making RT reach down to pick it up for her with a smile, handing it back gently.

“Why did you take this job? I know I asked this already, but I want a real answer.”

Trisitan looked away shyly, taking the holo-pad slowly. They both started to walk as RT continued to look at her, awaiting an answer.

“I took it because…I love the Republic.” The answer caused RT to lift an eyebrow. “And, I want to do more. I want to be the best, learn from the best. And…I know this going to sound like I’m kissing your ass, Sir. But you…you ARE the best.”

They both got into the skylift, the door shutting as they stood next to each other. RT allowing the answer to sink in as silence took up space between them. Trisitan was kicking herself for the answer. It did sound like she was kissing his ass and that was the last thing she wanted. At the moment she was nothing more than a glorified secretary. But that was the job, aide to the second highest ranking member within the entire Republic military. She knew what she was getting into when she took the position after her last command. Commander of one the most elite armored units in the Republic’s Armored Corps. Division Commander, a position not just anyone received. And RT knew it. That was the basis of his question.

Trisitan had aspirations. So far, she was acting like the glorified secretary. Not a former commander of one of the best outfits in the military. It was puzzling to RT and he had to find out why Trisitan had taken the position as his aide, but also why she seemed disheveled around him. The woman was punctual, thorough; she had all the right attributes to be an excellent aide. But he needed more than just someone who kept his calendar, he needed someone who was going to advise him. And so far, Trisitan had been silent in that regard. Part of the reason for the visit. Anyone could keep the books, he could get a Private to perform that kind of work. What he needed was Trisitan to drop the apprehension and live up to her rank. Brigadier General. They didn’t just hand that out to secretaries. RT was going to introduce Trisitan to Karolin. Perhaps she needed an urging that he, as a man and in his position could not give.

The lift started down, but soon stopped. Karolin’s apartment was on one of the highest floors. Perks of being important. They both stepped out. Trisitan waiting a second to allow him to exit first. RT looked back slightly, but kept on walking.

“I don’t think you were kissing my ass, General. That was a very honest answer and I appreciate that kind of honesty.” The answer brought a slight smile to her face that she went to great pains to hide. They stopped at the door. RT noticed Trisitan was already fixing herself, straightening as if going to meet the Supreme Chancellor herself. He shook his head slightly, releasing a sigh and turning on Trisitan before pressing the chime. “Calm yourself, General…this is just my sister. Not a Republic Official, not today. This is a social call.” RT didn’t add that the visit was more for her than it was for him. Pressing the chime he folded his hands in front of himself and waited. Jes opened the door, grimacing at them both, but moved aside once she gave both of them a look.

“The Senator is in the garden foyer.” Jes spoke as both Generals passed through. Trisitan thought to give Jes a greeting, but after seeing her expression she thought better of it. They passed through the elaborate entrance and into the foyer to find Karolin still in her house coat, spraying some liquid on a few plants. When RT entered, she stood up and smiled.

“RT…how nice.” Karolin smiled at Trisitan next, placing the bottle down next to the plant; crossing the space to hold out a hand. “And this must be the new aide I’ve heard so much about. I’m Karolin De’nabre.”

“Senator.” Trisitan nodded curtly. The act made Karolin look at RT. Karolin quickly corrected the General and winked slightly.

“Not today. Today I am just a woman tending her plants. Force knows I cannot ask Jes to do it. The woman is a great warrior, but she lacks the ‘green thumb’ required to keep anything alive. Probably one of the things that makes her an efficient killer.”

“I heard that.” Came from the other room. Nothing escaped Jes.

Both women smiled at one another as RT suddenly looked at his chrono. “Oh…damn. I have—I have to go. I got that ‘thing’.” The sudden action caused Trisitan to open her holo-pad and start looking at his calendar. RT and Karolin exchanged a knowing look.

“I’m sorry, Sir….I don’t see anything on your schedule. Are you sure? I might have missed—”

“No, you didn’t miss anything. This is personal.” RT gave Karolin another look as he turned for the door. Causing Karolin to step forward and place an arm around the smaller General.

“That’s fine. It gives you and I a chance to speak. I have so looked forward to meeting you, General Trisitan. I hear you once commanded an Armored Division. Your record is very impressive.” Karolin looked back at her brother and smiled. “We’ll be right here when you’re done RT….” The two meandered away. Karolin’s voice getting distant as RT smiled to himself. “So…tell me about yourself. You know, my brother can be a hard nut to crack. Perhaps, you and I can figure out a way to see past all that guff…”

--

- Coruscant, Underground Slums…

“You accusing me of something, Marstel?” Alzir leaned into the image being projected. Both men grimaced at one another. Marstel folded his arms in the holo-image and leered back.

Alzir felt the lump in his stomach move up to his throat. Though he did a good job of hiding the instant pang of fear that shot up his spine. To further hide it, he smirked and shrugged his shoulders. “Fine by me, I wasn’ totally sold on this whole ‘Organization’ business anyway.”

Marstel didn’t say anything further. Nodding slightly as the transmission ended. Once the connection was severed the disconnection message turned red. . The red message of death in more ways than one. Alzir reached in the drawer under the console and took out a blaster, loading it. He knew what being removed from ‘The Circle’ meant. Alzir needed to get off Coruscant, close up shop on his home planet and go into hiding. His name was going to end up on the lists. Death Marks galaxy wide. Marstel was a good friend and Alzir owed him and his family a lot. But one thing Marstel didn’t tolerate was disloyalty. He couldn’t.

Alzir knew what he risked when he let Aurora go. Even as he loaded the blaster and looked toward the door, he couldn’t help but think about the Mirialan. Aurora had been the one thing on his mind since he let her go. An infection that he couldn’t purge. He had done his duty to Marstel and Karolin. Torture the Mirialan, eventually ending up being intimate with her. That, was his biggest mistake. The Wroonian had plenty of women, he considered himself a lady’s man. But Aurora had affected him in an unexpected way. And he couldn’t get her out of his head. And it had more to do than just his weakness for Mirialans.

The chime at his door made the Wroonian look up suddenly. Raising the blaster up, he moved to the side of the room and skirted the wall. The derelict apartment didn’t come with outside holo-cams. He couldn’t take a look who was at the door. Once reaching the doorframe, Alzir brought the blaster up, looking down to smile and shake his head. Marstel had wasted no time in closing ‘The Circle’ to him. No doubt the chime at the door was the first of many coming to pay a visit to Alzir for his betrayal. This was only the beginning and it was only going to get worse. Until either Alzir hid successfully or he ended up dead.

It dawned on him that either it was the politest hitman in the galaxy that come calling or the dumbest. Whoever came to kill someone and used the chime to announce their arrival? Alzir lowered the blaster, holding it in the small of his back. Touching the pad to open the door. It slid upward with a ‘swoosh’ of air. And what stood in the doorway could have been his end. But dressed as she was, he hardly thought so.

Aurora had a finger to her mouth. Her tongue gently touched the elaborately decorated fingertips and nail of an index finger as she smiled at him. Leaning into the frame, the Mirialan crossed her legs. Allowing the coat she wore to fall open. Hardly anything was underneath. The strap of one garter had come loose, dropping the stocking of one leg. Her brazier on one side had pulled upward revealing the breast. None of that seemed intentional given that everything about Aurora in that moment was completely intentional. Her hair fell away to one side as she released a soft sigh and looked him up and down.

“…aren’t you going to invite me in….”

--

-- Sith Citadel, Dark Council Chambers – Dromand Kaas….

Mrysti strode down the lit hallway, with purpose. Looking up she saw the Imperial Holo-net was already broadcasting the propaganda. ‘Darth Vowrawn – Killed by Republic infiltrators’ The Dark Council and the Empire would milk his death for all it was worth to fuel the war effort. It didn’t matter that it wasn’t true, just that Vowrawn was a hero in some regards, killed by the Republic.

Putting her head back down, she stared forward, a smirk coming to her face. Mrysti had quite literally cleaned out the new vestiges of the Sith Empire that followed the war with the Eternal Empire. Having killed Acina on Ossus and then coming home to kill Vowrawn; things were getting back in order. A return to the old ways. And Mrysti could feel a bit of that in her bones. Old hatreds and rage reigniting to damper all of her feelings of loyalty and remorse for what she knew she would have to do.

Behind her, Cornelia also strode with purpose. Her head held high. A look of resolute intensity. When other Imperials or Sith looked their way, Cornelia would stare back in a ‘how dare you’ manner. She was proud, intense. A razor. A weapon Mrysti was forging, very much like she was forged by Darth Isilith. Master passing on their knowledge to their apprentice and all the while fashioning a weapon to use against all of her enemies.

They reached the door. Unlike Cornelia, Mrysti did not straighten up. She did not expect trouble, but she was prepared for it. Passing through the massive ornate vaulted door meant anything could happen. Narrowing her eyes, Mrysti looked back at Cornelia and gave a slight smile.

“Ready?”

Cornelia nodded curtly.

“Yes, Master.”

The door slid open from the middle with a slow creak. Mrysti and Cornelia stepping through the darkened threshold to the low dark purple and red lights of the Dark Council chamber. Several members were still getting to their seats. Mrysti glanced up at the empty one. Vowrawn’s. And smirked slightly before making her way to the center of the circular chamber.

Before she was addressed, Mrysti felt a strong, gloved hand grab her arm. She felt him before he touched her, slowly turning her head to look almost eye to eye with Darth Malgus. The other Dark Lord gave Cornelia a cold stare, before Mrysti excused herself taking a few steps away from the center with Malgus. The Dark Lord placed his hands on his hips, his eyes widening. His voice slightly muffled from the respirator he wore over the bottom half of his face.

“You did me a favor, Darth Retuvisa…” Mrysti inclined an eyebrow at the revelation as Malgus continued. “…my resurrection was not an accident. Both Acina and Vowrawn saw fit to have a controller chip placed within these replacement cybernetics. I was being controlled in some ways by the two of them. That part, you don’t know. The part you do know is, now that I am free we will take this battle to the Heart of the Republic. I won’t forget what you’ve done.” It almost sounded menacing instead of a statement of gratitude. Mrysti nodded softly and turned back as Malgus called toward her.

“Thank you, Darth Malgus…”

“Darth Retuvisa…know this. Though you have my gratitude; I will not hesitate to turn that gratitude into rage should you perform inadequately.” Mrysti turned back to face him slowly, their eyes locking. “I am NOT Acina or Vowrawn, I do not hide…you will not find in me an opponent so easily defeated.”

Mrysti nodded softly once again, a wry smile coming to her face.

“If it ever comes to that, Darth Malgus, I assure you…there will be no need for either of us to hide. I will come find….YOU.”

The lights came up softly as the last of the Dark Council took their seats. All of the assembled Dark Lords glanced at the empty chair before glancing down at Mrysti and Cornelia. They waited. Slowly Mrysti took a knee, Cornelia following suit before Darth Anathel stood and looked down at them both.

“…you come before us to be confirmed in your victory over Vowrawn. Performed legally and in accordance with his manner of treachery. Darth Retuvisa, do you swear in this act your loyalty to the Sith Empire? That this action was taken for the good of the Sith and not for your own interest?”

“I do.” Mrysti’s voice carried over the chamber as Darth Anathel turned his gaze toward Cornelia.

“Lord Usher, you have come before the Council to seek confirmation that you are your father’s daughter. Blood marks adorn your head, are you prepared once again to take up your sword in defense of the Sith Empire? Reclaim your rite as sister of the blood clan of your family and destroy all enemies of the Empire?”

“I do.”

Darth Anathel looked around at the other members of the Council before looking at Cornelia once again. “Vowrawn sealed his fate the day he assaulted you. Unknowingly releasing a vengeance that brought you and Darth Retuvisa together. It was fate, there is no coincidence that you two found one another in the dark. Lord Cornelia Usher, do you wish to complete your training under the watchful gaze of Darth Retuviusa, accept her ways and follow her until you are Ascended?”

Cornelia paused and looked over at Mrysti. Mrysti could feel her eyes and the slight smile that creased the corners of her mouth.

“Yes…Darth Anathel.”

“Then Darth Retuvisa, Lord Cornelia Usher speaks in your name. Your will, shall be her will.”

All of the Dark Council members stood joining Darth Anathel as he glared down at the two of them.

"...we rise, not for who you are but for what you've done. More than earned, you will once again carry the Hammer to our enemies. Until you are dead or you find someone worthy to replace you. Lord Usher is hereby confirmed as your apprentice and absolved of any wrongdoing. Go...take terror and fear to our enemies. Glory...to the Empire...."

--

--

- Primary Sith Cabin, Imperial Dreadnaught Endeavor….

“Come in, come in ‘Admiral’….”

Mrysti smiled as she used the honorific. Still in her confirmation attire, it was clear she had been drinking. A big bright smile on her face as she flopped down in the desk chair and faced the Admiral looking up. A glass inclined toward the other woman. Admiral Rickter nodded curtly, stepping inside to allow the door to slide closed behind her, standing. Waiting. “No, please….SIT!!! You don’t have to wait for permission. We’re alone now, Talia!! We don’t stand on formality while we’re alone.” Mrysti smiled brightly again, devilishly refilling her glass after draining it. A little spilling over the side as she shoved the glass toward Talia’s side of the desk and grabbed another for herself. “Oh, I’m sorry…I should have gotten you a clean one.” Mrysti smiled wickedly again.

“No it’s fine, My Lor—” Talia started to use Mrysti’s honorific and stopped herself. Not finishing she sat down rather formally and folded her arms into her lap. Not reaching for the glass. “What’s the occasion, if I may ask?” Beside the confirmation of her apprentice there was no other reason Talia could think of that Mrysti would be celebrating. Mrysti continued the wicked smile.

‘Listen.” Mrysti leaned in close. Scooting up to the lip of the desk to leer over at Talia. “If you are going to be my Admiral, you have got to loosen up.” Mrysti slapped the glass down and slapped the desk again with her other hand leaning back. “That’s the occasion?!?! Truth, total truth between us. I had to wait to get past all of this business with the Dark Council. They could have tried to kill me you know? But…they are smarter than that. They know an asset when they see one. But…enough of politics….” Talia raised a questioning eyebrow as Mrysti smiled warmly. “Talia…” A little of the excitement and joy bleeding from her voice as she got softer. “…I didn’t get to pick my last Admiral. We eventually became close. Friends even. But his constant efforts in the beginning to undermine me and complete his given assignment; which was to spy and report on me, almost cost me everything. Once we saw eye to eye—” Mrysti lost the smile and looked away. “—his loss was grievous to me. Even now I still see the flames of the ship exploding over Belsavis.”

With the Dark Lord taking a moment, Talia sat back and relaxed. Taking the glass in her mechanical hand. Glancing at the hand, Talia also looked up. Its loss a necessary one to save Talia’s life. She knew it. Mrysti could have very easily killed her as save her in order to repossess the Eye of Sion. But she chose to save Talia by only severing the hand which held the lightsaber. Mrysti looked up and Talia quickly locked eyes with her. It was almost as if Mrysti could sense what Talia was thinking, because she could. Mrysti also glanced at the right mechanical hand of Admiral Rickter and frowned slightly. There were no words to be spoken about it, not anymore. Talia insisted on that.

“Well, if drinking is your game.” Talia tipped the glass to her lips smiling as she took a sip. “Then I’m your girl, ‘My Lord’.” Talia smiled after using the title. Telling Mrysti it was meant in jest. They both relaxed, Mrysti refilling her glass again after a long moment of simply sitting and drinking across from one another. Finally locking eyes again. Talia was looking at the glass, admiring its contents. A very rare Alderannian Brandy. Talia collected fine wines and liquors. She was an authority on them.

“Do you consider yourself…” Mrysti began the question in curious tone. “…a ‘loyal’ Imperial? That’s always the first question I ask.”

Talia narrowed her eyes. Finishing the glass, she sat it down and reached for the bottle, sitting up to lean toward Mrysti’s side. Refilling the glass and taking a long draw before looking back to answer.

“Yes. Absolutely.” Talia watched Mrysti start to frown slightly. The Admiral glanced at the mechanical hand which gripped the glass gently. It took lots of practice to use the mechanical appendage on delicate objects. And she was carefully holding the glass. “But…” Mrysti looked up as Talia continued. “…my absolute loyalty lies with you.”

Another wicked smile started to form as Mrysti lifted her glass and raised it toward Talia.

“All I ask, is that you trust me.” Mrysti smiled warmly. “You will not always understand or even agree with what I’m doing, but I make this promise: I will never betray you, Talia. I return loyalty that is given. And trust me that I always have a plan, even if it doesn’t seem like it.”

They touched glasses. The sound of the meeting making a clear ‘ching’ inside the small cabin. Talia nodded as both took a sip after toasting one another.

“And I also make this vow…you will never have to look any farther than your ‘Admiral’, when it comes to advice and counsel. Not that you will ever need it.”

“Good.” Mrysti slapped the glass down again and smiled wickedly. “It’s going to get bloody Talia. Very bloody. You need to know that I am fighting forces within, around and outside of the Empire. Some of them will come for us, some of them will run from us. But all of them will either conform or die. One of these factions will absolutely be crushed. Once we catch up in the endgame, you will understand whom it is I am referring to.” Mrysti sat back, cradling the glass. “But for now…we do our duty. Our first target…the Jedi Enclave on Yaga Minor. Let’s do our part for King and Country.”

“As you command, ‘My Lord’….” Talia raised the glass toward her Commander and smiled, draining it. Wiping her mouth on her arm, she sat the glass down and stood. “…Glory, to the Empire…”

--

- Sith Meditation Chamber, Imperial Dreadnaught Endeavor…..

Cornelia watched them leave. The group of officers. All of them hurrying by. All except for Admiral Rickter who leisurely followed the group out of the chamber, stopping once she saw Cornelia. Laying a balled fist to her chest in salute; stopping to greet the apprentice.

“What kind of mood is she in?” Cornelia asked softly.

“Actually, a very good one…considering.” Talia looked off toward the hustle of officers which were just disappearing around the corner. “Lots of hiring and firing’s going on. I am trying to weed the weak from the strong, it’s not easy. Your Master is assisting me in that regard.” Talia started to walk off, slapping Cornelia on the back as she passed. “Good Luck…” There was a closeness and kinship between Cornelia, Mrysti and Talia that transcended rank since their time at the prison.

Entering the room, the blast door closed sharply behind her. Cornelia looked back and then quickly knelt down to one knee, looking at the ground.

“Your will….Master…”

The chamber opened back up as Mrysti spun around the center chair. Around her holo screens and terminals decorated the interior of the isolated chamber. They began to shut off as Mrysti turned away from them. Just as much a meditation chamber as it was a respite from the rest of the ship. Mrysti could control entire battles from inside the tiny chamber if she wished. But that was not Mrysti’s way. Looking down, the large Mirialan glared at Cornelia; who stayed looking at the ground until she was commanded not to. Mrysti waited a long moment, reaching over to wrap her fingers around the large hammer that lay next to her seat.

“Rise…Apprentice…”

Cornelia looked up and finally stood to face Mrysti. The Mirialan grimaced and narrowed her eyes.

“You summoned, My Lord…”

“Yes…I did.” Mrysti continued to stare, as if searching Cornelia. So far, Canton’s abrupt departure had no ill effects on Cornelia, but that would change. Mrysti had already seen it. A confrontation loomed with that situation. With whom, Mrysti was unsure. Cornelia locked her hands behind her back and stared back toward her Master, her lip twitched slightly. “Lord Usher…” Mrysti began again, “…you will assist Admiral Rickter in the conquest and take over of the Jedi enclave. YOU WILL, minimize casualties.” Cornelia’s lip twitched again. Mrysti could feel the question before Cornelia even asked it. “Because I wish it. Yours is to do, not to question. You will minimize casualties. And when the Jedi call for reinforcements, You will pull back toward the last phase line and await further instructions.”

“My Lord…” Cornelia began her statement as a question, “…I understand you wish to minimize casualties due to your loyalty to some of your former allies within the Coalition. But we are at war…the Jedi and the Republic are the enemy.”

Mrysti stood, picking the hammer up and slinging it over a shoulder as she slowly walked down one step at a time. Until she finally towered over her diminutive apprentice.

“While I appreciate your honesty, I do so tire of your questioning when those queries come from a place of mistrust. As I stated previously, you may leave my service anytime you wish. You are a confirmed Lord now, far beyond advanced training. OR…” Mrysti slung the hammer off her shoulder. The head of the weapon hit the metal deck plating loudly. “…you may challenge me…anytime you wish for command of this fleet.” Cornelia did not move. Her eyes still laser focused on her Master. Even with the intimidating move down the stairs looming over her, Cornelia was undeterred.

“I have no desire to leave, My Lord. You understand, I have not seen or experienced what you have with these…’Jedi’. I do not share your sentimentality….”

“This has nothing to do with sentiment.” Mrysti turned away. Turning back, she moved toward the stairs, stopping to look back toward her apprentice. “This has to do with trust. Jedi will die in this attack…and before long your lust for vengeance and conquest will be satiated. That I promise you. This attack has a more important purpose. One you will soon realize, should you see fit to trust in my judgment. Now go…” Mrysti waved Cornelia off. The apprentice turned sharply and started for the door, stopping as Mrysti called her back. “And Cornelia…do be careful down there. Those Jedi, they don’t know I have an ulterior motive in conducting this assault.”

Cornelia smiled wickedly and bowed at the neck. Laying a balled fist to her chest.

“Your will….Master…”

--

- Yaga Minor, Jedi Enclave…Imperial Phase Line ‘Charlie’….

“We are pulling back, My Lord…just as you instructed. My Lord?” Talia started to ask the question even before she received a response. “…I have plotted in artillery and orbitals all along our egress back to this location. I request permission to use those points should the need arise?”

“Very good, My Lord….” Talia raised the macros back to her face, looking out toward the small force which was chasing her last units back toward the hills. Launching an arm out, Talia spoke out loud. “Fire.” She said softly.

--

Admiral’s Log, Hammer Fleet – Flagship Endeavor, Talia Rickter, Commanding….

As predicted, our forces led the Republic reinforcements into an impasse. The only way to advance forward was a route in and out of the city. They weren’t going to leave it and we had them and their reinforcements surrounded. We were contacted by the Republic’s representative. Only HE wasn’t any ordinary representative. The designated Chief of Staff to the Republic’s Supreme Commander. This all seemed rather preordained. But I am in no position to question her Lordship.

I’ve met the man. I admit, my curiosity was piqued that the Republic would send one of the top level command and staff types to conduct the negotiation. Lord Retuvisa’s plan was masterful. The Republic walked right into it. But after meeting him, I have to question. Did they? On so many levels, he is not what he seems. Not your typical stylus pusher, desk jockey. This man exudes leadership. I almost found myself snapping to attention when he walked in. He doesn’t seem the foolhardy or ignorant type. Which begs the former question. Perhaps it was all a ploy. My trust in the Dark Lord, if it was a ploy I’m sure she had her reasons. It did give me a chance to see one of the heroes of the Republic up close.

An imposing figure. Tall and almost as broad. Piercing, dark brown eye--*ahem*, well these are my ‘personal’ logs. No need to stand on military formality. General Trea’vor Alpha is a living legend among the Republicans. After meeting him I can see why. His demeanor was cold, calculated. I tried to be as pleasant as I could. And as instructed, I offered him an invitation to dine aboard my ship. At first, he refused. Once I mentioned her Lordship, his entire demeanor changed. After accepting the invitation, we ended the meeting; coming to no conclusion as to the safe passage of our forces and the cease-fire. I assume that will be discussed when he arrives.

It’s been so long. A man, not a sniveling, whining, kowtowing semblance of manhood. But a real one. Perhaps he will accept an invitation for a night cap. I can only imagine what is hiding under all of that armor. Listen to me, pining like a common first year cadet. I’m the Admiral of this fleet, it’s time I started acting like one. We will, of course, extend all of the necessary pomp and circumstance to one so warranted of the ceremony of it all. And, if that ends with an opportunity to spend a little time getting to know my adversary, then so be it. Chalk it up to….educational opportunity......

--

- Galaxy Core, Neutral Space Station Near Yaga Minor….

Trisitan realized after the fact that all of it was a set-up. A very unique, but much needed set-up. Karolin had done her duty, explaining the intricacies of how to deal with her brother. What he expected in a friend and confidant. Something he couldn’t have done himself. Not because he lacked the ability, but coming from him it would have been taken the wrong way. He needed an impartial entity to explain things. A woman. Someone with the subtleties that came with dealing with the feminine part of a species. RT needed a top advisor and Trisitan was more than capable of filling the job. But her hesitance and RT’s status being what it was, Trisitan needed an urging to get past the record and see RT as a man.

“This is ill-advised.” General Trisitan leaned in and whispered to RT. The General had finally loosened up enough to speak her mind. Perhaps too loose. RT glanced at her as she leaned in. His look could still stop her cold and the look of annoyance he gave her made the General look down to finish speaking. “Any number of officers in the Ministry could have done this. Diplomats…there was no need for the Chief of Staff for the entire Republic Military to set foot on this station. Much less engage in negotiations with—” RT glanced at her again. “—I’m sorry, Sir.”

“Don’t apologize, General. You are doing exactly what I told you to do.” RT smiled as he spoke softly. Both of them standing, looking at the door on the far opposite end of the circular room adjacent to the airlock chambers. “Now, learn to follow my lead. There is a reason I’m here…and not some ‘officer’ from the Ministry.” Folding his arms over his chest, RT watched as the door on the other side lit up indicating a seal was taking place. “Besides, they specifically requested a military presence. No Diplomat could have taken this….”

The door opened on the far side with the release of steam. Imperial Guards came out first, glancing toward RT and his entourage, but not moving forward. Instead, flanking the door. Parting the way for others. Stepping forward and through the steam an obvious Sith. RT narrowed his eyes, he could always tell them apart from their military counterparts, especially by the way they dressed. Next to the Sith, a very smartly dressed female Imperial. They both walked in step and in unison. Both female’s heels clicking loudly as they approached the opposite side of the table. RT dropped his arms to his sides.

Talia looked RT up and down. Hopefully he didn’t notice her eyes get wide as she finished. The Republic Officer was massive. Towering over everyone in the room. Only tossing a cursory glance toward the Republic General who stood next to RT, Talia clicked her heels and laid a hand to her heart.

“On behalf of the Sith Empire, I bring you greetings….” Talia flourished her arm toward the Sith, who was still glaring at RT. “This is Lord Cornelia Usher…Our Lord and Master, Darth Retuvisa regrets she is unable to join us. The situation on the surface necessitates her attentions elsewhere. I’m sure you understand….”

“More than you realize…” RT looked down at the woman and her rank insignia. “…Admiral.” Moving his arms toward the chairs, RT gestured for them all to sit. Still staring at each other, they all sat in unison. RT folded his hands together and looked placid. Waiting. It was the Sith that called the meeting. A parlay requesting some concession on the surface, even as the war waged on.

“Yes, well….” Talia looked at Cornelia as if asking permission to speak for her then looked back to RT. “…General, as you are no doubt aware. We have reached an impasse in our offensive. The Republic has dug themselves in deep within the Capital and our troops cannot advance beyond the city’s shielded defenses.”

“I am aware of the tactical situation, Admiral.” RT leaned forward slightly. “What is it you want?”

“The Sith Empire…” Talia began softly, “…is willing to concede back to the last phase line. Giving the Republic control of the city and the land surrounding it. If the Republic will concede and allow our forces safe passage to the other side of the city and the land beyond. We have need to evacuate our casualties and set up a recovery station there. Current conditions outside the city and the continued assault of Republic forces make our evacuation in that regard, quite impossible. It is to both our benefits, General. The Republic gets a much-needed breath and we get to recovery our losses. We don’t wish any further loss of life.”

RT smiled wryly narrowing his eyes. “You’re trapped. The terrain doesn’t allow for aerial and vehicular recovery. And you need those assets elsewhere.” Sitting back RT, nodded. “But you can save the plea for life, Admiral. If you and I had our way, no one would leave this rock again. Imperial and Republic.”

Narrowing her eyes in kind, Talia smiled wickedly. “We see eye to eye, General. If I had my way, you and I would not even be discussing this. A fight to the death, hmm? But I don’t get to make those decisions, someone else does. The Empire wants those men off the surface and I have been sent to ask that you allow that. Otherwise, we all die here.”

“Well not you and I.” RT said bluntly. He stood on his own causing the others to stand as well. Cornelia laid a hand on her saber at the speed with which RT stood. Causing RT’s aide to lay her hand on her blaster. Only Talia and RT stood relaxed, looking at one another. “No, you and I get to go home…don’t we Admiral?” Rounding the table, RT stuck out his hand. “We have an accord, Admiral. Inform your superiors your forces will be allowed passage though the city. And also inform them that our entire fleet has the entire route zoned in with orbital calculations down to the last inch. If any of your forces so much as makes a move toward the city, the sky will burn all of them to dust.”

Taking the hand, Talia shook it. Surprised at the strength and struggling not to show it, she smiled wryly. “It would be like shooting at a range. Why would anyone attack from a tactically disadvantaged position?”

“My thoughts exactly. Quite a test of your desire to limit loss of life.” RT took his hand back and nodded curtly to the Admiral, preparing to leave.

“Speaking of desire…” The words made RT turn back. “…would you be interested in concluding the details of our negotiation on board the Endeavor?” General Trisitan shot a look at the Admiral before looking at RT and shaking her head ‘no’. RT narrowed his eyes.

“I would be delighted to accept your gracious invitation. Inform her ‘Lordship’ I will arrive at 2100 hours…”

“Sounds delightful, General…I look forward to being a gracious host.”

--

- Ready Room, Imperial Dreadnaught Endeavor….

Mrysti rounded the desk and sat leisurely. RT only folded his arms and looked down.

“There were easier ways to bring me out here that didn’t involve the deaths of so many…”

“No their weren’t.” Mrysti remarked with a smile, sitting up to incline her head toward the bar which sat on the far side of the room. RT crossed it and made himself a drink. Looking back toward his sister. “I’ve been gone RT. All of those old communication routes were either closed or non-existent. And I needed to reestablish some. And under the guise of still doing my job. It’s the last thing either of us need right now, interference from either the Sith or the Republic.”

“See that’s where your wrong. About the job, I mean…I AM actually doing a job here. You are playing for the wrong side.”

“Oh save me the political speeches. You know what this is about. He’s back. And I can’t outright contact Karolin or get any of your opinions on this.” Mrysti released a sigh and sat back. “And I’m not the one whose wrong here. I am also conducting myself as a member in good standing of the Sith Empire. I intend to fight this war, but that doesn’t mean we can’t deal with the…’other’ problem.” Mrysti shook her head and looked down. “So what do we know? Where am I going?”

Releasing a slight laugh, RT took a sip of the drink setting the glass down after doing so. “The main hub is on Corellia. The Empire has no way of getting there. But its possible they have spread now. Karolin is convinced the Doctor is alive. And if that’s the case, everything…the war, our relationships…all of it is about to get much more complicated.”

Mrysti considered for a long moment before looking up at her brother. “It was my absence that put all of this in motion. If the Doctor is alive and Telan’dorr is aiding him…us being divided is what they all are counting on. We have to maintain that ruse.” Mrysti paused and stood up rounding the desk to join her brother. “I have an asset I can put into play, several in fact.” Mrysti stuck out her hand. “…we may have to fight this war and each other, but this is bigger than any of us. The Doctor is a direct threat to the program and the galaxy. I’m not going to let him destroy us all.”

RT looked at the hand and smiled. Reaching out he grabbed his sister and gave her a tremendous hug. “It’s hard to hate someone and love someone at the same time.” He released his sister and smiled at her. “I agree, though I will be unable to provide any direct support. Maintaining this ruse may very well mean we may end up killing one another.”

“I understand.” Mrysti said sadly.

“Thanks for the drink. I will pass on your love to the others.” RT moved for the door.

“RT…” Mrysti called out as her brother turned to look at her. “…my ‘Admiral’ and the others are not in on any of my plans. They are following me blindly into all of this.” RT nodded and turned back. “Speaking of the Admiral, I believe that she has an eye for you.” RT crooked an eyebrow. “I sensed it, sue me…whatever you decided to do know that she can know nothing until the time is right.”

“What makes you think I’m going to do anything?”

“I’m your sister. I know you. And Admiral Rickter is quite ‘persuasive’. Just don’t do any permanent damage to her. Not only do I still need her, I am also quite fond of her.”

RT nodded approaching the door, it slid open as he walked out.

--

- The Wilds, Concord Dawn….

Three weeks. One to get there and two on the hunt. No better way to clear up confusing and conflicting thoughts. Something ‘Aruetii’ would never understand. It was not only an escape to get a clearer sense of purpose, it was also a challenge he needed to feel like himself again. A Mandalorian.

Canton ducked down, placing a hand on the rock as he looked down at the faint signs on the ground. Reaching down to touch the track and bring the fingers back up to his nose. One hour, maybe less. Canton narrowed his eyes surveying the landscape, peering out in between the trees and slowly swaying brush. He was close. Very close.

The tracker behind him had an easy time. Only taking point when Canton lost the scent. Prison had dulled the skill, but not removed it. The tracker, a safety net for Canton, but he was making the job easy. Behind him the tracker ducked down similarly and once Canton moved forward the tracker mimicked his charges former motion; dipping a hand into the dirt and raising the fingers to his nose. Canton’s senses had sharpened quickly in the short few weeks they had been out there.

A Kree’chek was not a beast to be taken lightly. It wasn’t the apex predator in the wild, but its elusiveness made it deadly. It wasn’t a hunt for survival, but rather a hunt for sharpening skills. Canton rose the blaster rifle to his shoulder and activated the thermal sight. There were lots out in front giving off heat, but only one thing that did it in set intervals. Seeing the fluctuation, Canton quickly slapped a hand on the sight and zoomed it in toward the target. Just as quickly placing the hand back under the forward stock to stabilize the weapon. He waited, patiently. Slow breaths, controlled thought. Reaching out almost. Feeling what the beast would do next. Knowing that if it knew where he was, it was over.

Softly, Canton closed his eyes and counted. Pacing the interval between heat and camouflage. Opening them slowly, he was rewarded. The Kree’chek moving down the side of the tree cautiously. Stopping to sense its environment and wait before moving again. Without hesitation, Canton fired.

--

Carrying the carcass back was part of it all. Canton dressed it in the field to remove some of the weight and bring back only what he needed to use. The meat, the coat. A trophy to show that he once again was on the right path. The tracker exchanged a nod with Canton once they reached the base camp, both men parting ways as Canton gave the alien the credits promised. He knelt by the fire. Something that was constant in the camp. Constantly tended and constantly roaring. Dropping the carcass down in the dirt, untying the six legs of the beast to open it up and discard the makeshift harness he used to carry the large animal back to the lodging camp.

Canton looked up and paused. Stunned suddenly. His eyes narrowing as he locked eyes with her. Less her armor, Renatta wore only the red undersuit. Part of her weapon harness adorned the tight-fitting body glove. The symbol of their clan emblazoned on the right breast of the suit, shined at interval in the firelight. Canton stood slowly. Renatta brought a hand to her mouth, her eyes wide. Losing herself for a moment. Seeing him. Someone she thought dead, someone she never thought to ever see in the flesh again.

Taking a step forward, he nodded slightly.

“Ner Kar’ta…Sa kyr’am Nau tracyn Kad….” Canton raised a hand, palm facing Renatta as he spoke the words. They caused her to smile shyly and look down, away from him. Her dark skin flushed slightly before she looked up, raising her own hand; palm facing him.

“Ner Kar’ta…hettir ogir balyc. Mhi solus dhar’tome….” Renatta’s lip quivered as she moved toward him. Picking up speed, leaping into his arms. They embraced, kissing hungrily until Renatta broke free in his arms to grab his face and look down at him. Tracks of tears running down both sides.

“I thought I lost you…” She spoke breathlessly, kissing him again as Canton held her tight. The light of the fire burning brighter as the sun began to set on them both. A beginning of an end. And the renewal of his vow to the clan and his commitment to its future.

In the back of his mind, even as he held Renatta the face was there. It pained him. Canton was torn. Holding Renatta she felt like home. The life stolen from him, torn away when he tried to live up to his oath as a Mandalorian. Canton had another life. Created for him by the betrayal of all that he stood for. He tried to tell himself he did what he had to in order to survive. Something Renatta or any other Mando in his clan would never understand. They would say he should have died rather than betray himself and his commitments. Canton was a survivor, he always had been. And self-termination was not in his character.

Renatta would never understand. None of them would. But that face, the one he kept seeing even as he looked on his wife’s smiling visage; that face would understand. She always had. Canton came to Concord Dawn to find himself. Only to have Renatta and his old life come to find him. To forget and get a sense of himself. But, Canton couldn’t forget her. He never would. In his quest to get back to his roots he found that he was more torn and confused than ever. His heart torn between a world taken and a world he created.

And he couldn’t have one and not the other.

--

-Lameredd, Marstel's Farm....

There was no infectious thing more than Aurore’s smile. It was one of the things Waylon loved about her. Aurore was the whole reason he decided to take the rest on Lameredd with Aurore. And she was not ready to leave.

Lameredd was very different than Zeltros. It was those differences she loved. When the wind blew, it was sometimes hotter or colder than she was used to, no where near perfect. It exhilarated her to feel that effect. Letting her know how alive she was. Rain was hard and cold. Even on the sub-tropical planet, which happened to be in the throws of winter at the moment. Not cold for a winter by other planet’s standards, but cold enough to show the effect to Aurore. Everything was alive on Lameredd. Fertile. She could see why Marstel loved the planet, he could run the farm and grow things all year round as the seasons changed with the planet’s life and vegetation. Walking through the field of wild flowers, she ran her hand over the knee-high flowers and breathed in their life. Dodging the stalks of the nearly seven-foot-tall flowers that lay in interval among their smaller brethren.

Waylon watched her twirl and laugh. Aurore opening her arms to turn her face to the sun. It was almost hard to believe that she belonged anywhere else or that her skills put her in the bowels of a starship most times. With a spanner or torch in her hands. She was definitely a surface girl. Judging by the way she sucked in all the life around her. Her face as bright as the sun and the flowers around her. Reaching down, she plucked one from the field carefully. Nice enough to say sorry to the ground for having to take it before placing it behind one ear and turning toward Waylon. She walked toward him, almost skipping as she reached out to take his hand and pull him from the stump of the tree he sat on.

Waylon shook his head even as she took the hand, pulling it out of his. He wasn’t ready to be that happy yet. Only on Lameredd because Aurore wanted to be there. It certainly wasn’t because he felt he owed Marstel anything or even liked the large Ratataki remotely. Aurore frowned as Waylon took his hand away. The Zeltron shrugged, turning to walk back in and among the wildflowers. Where she belonged.

Where did Waylon belong? He knew where ever it was going to be, it would be by Aurore’s side. If he could somehow get out of the funk he found himself in. Something elusive was eating away at him and had been for some time. Waylon kept coming back to the words Mrysti spoke to him as they departed the Endeavor for the last time.

‘It was never too late to go home…’

Home was going to be where ever he made it. Where ever Aurore made it. He already decided that much.

Getting off the stump, Waylon wandered back toward the farm. Moving past one of the barns that served as a warehouse for Marstel and the others who used the farm. He almost passed it entirely, something prompting him to stop and look at the door. Slowly he turned. There wasn’t a lock on the door. What ever was in there, Marstel was not trying to hide it. Marstel didn’t keep locks on anything at the farm. Anything he wanted to keep away or hide, he did. No need for locks if you couldn’t find what he didn’t want you to.

Opening the door, automatic lights winked on illuminating the interior. It looked like the typical barn, less the smell of animals. It smelled different, ancient. More like a library than a barn. Crates were stacked at intervals along the walls. As Waylon browsed them he saw names like. ‘Korriban’ and ‘Coalition’. Some of the crates had people’s names on them. Others had the names of places or events. It was a library for all intents and purposes. A storage place for Marstel’s past. A place of memory kept in the best way he could given the environment of the farm.

Waylon stopped suddenly once he saw his name. His head canting slightly as he looked again and read to make sure. Looking around nervously, as if he stumbled onto something that could get him in trouble. Waylon moved forward and looked at the lid, quickly opening the crate. And once he did, the gunslinger stepped back in shock and alarm. Careful not to look back into the large crate until he was ready.

Reaching in, he picked it up. The helmet smelled like fused wiring, even after all that time. The smell of fire and smoke. Of death and destruction.

‘You are your clans’ leader….’

Those words spoken by another Mandalorian made Waylon look up, even as he held the shattered helmet in his hands. His helmet, the crest of his clan burned in half with the left side of the helmet missing from impact and destruction. Waylon looked back down at the helmet and closed his eyes, bringing the helmet up to touch his forehead to the helmet’s.

‘Verd ori’shya beskar’gam…Yooba cuyir gar aliit alor’

--

Corellia, Column Skyhook…Medical Bay….

“Ok…” Cypher nodded as she laid down and shook her head nervously. “…I’m ready.”

Amalgom looked on, biting a nail. Approaching the bed, he looked down at her. A concerned look on his face. The rich bass of his voice eased Cypher and made her smile. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

Cypher nodded again, closing her eyes as she turned her head away. “I’m the only one who can. Who else has the number of augments I do? Who else can we test the thing on? And if I’m right, we can find out what the weaknesses of the augment are. Put an end to the ‘life-giver’.”

Arms descended, flipping her over in the surgical bay. The laser cut into the base of her neck, another lowering the augment in and activating it after putting her under. The procedure took about thirty minutes. Slowly she was rotated around. Amalgom watching everything.

Cypher’s eyes jerked open. The light that shown in them formerly blue turned a bright green as she sucked in a deep breath and looked up.

“Oh my…” she spoke softly. “…I see it. I see it all….”

--

Coruscant, Government Sector, Office of the Mirialan Senator….

“I am so sorry to keep you waiting, your highness…you understand, affairs of state—”

“Save it, Senator…” Karolin looked up at the woman. Ornately dressed, formally calling on Karolin specifically on a matter of state urgency. Their planet was not a member of the Republic, but as a representative of the Republic; Karolin could hardly deny a formal request from a head of state. Standing up slowly, Karolin canted her head and gave the Princess a strange look.

“From your tone, I imagine you must be annoyed at having to wait. Let me be the first to extend my sincerest apologies for keeping you. You spoke of a matter of urgency. How can the Republic be of service?”

Burilla moved toward the desk. The woman moved with grace and formality. But once she reached the edge of Karolin’s desk all of that went away. Burilla slapped her hands down and leaned in, glaring at the Mirialan.

“I’m not here for your Republic…I’ve come for YOU.” The words made Jes push off the wall. Karolin waved the Echani off, raising an eyebrow toward the other woman. “Something was stolen from us and used by parties you are aware of…your cousin as it turns out. And I WANT IT BACK!!!”

“I’m sorry…” Karolin smiled condescendingly. “…to whom are you referring?”

Burilla pushed off the desk and sneered, her lip twitching long after she stopped speaking. “That snake…oil salesman. False prophet…whatever you wish to call him. Telan’dorr. You will give him to me to face the judgment of my people and return what was taken. Or you…and your Republic will suffer a dire fate…”

Karolin lost the smile.

--

--

- New Hope Era - Kamino, Clone facility 827….Five Days after the end of The Clone Wars....

They stepped back. Knowing that possibly none of it would work. All of the work was based on aged records, most of which was destroyed at the end of the Clone Wars. It wasn’t the Galactic Empire or Palpatine. It was the Kaminoians. Disgraced, ashamed of what they had done and the part they played in all of it. Bringing the Empire to power. Throwing the galaxy into turmoil. Palpatine thought to use Kamino until the end of time. Realizing the failsafe built into the clones would put a stop to his endless supply of clones. Advanced aging gave him the fighting force he needed when the Republic was unknowingly a pawn in his game. But now, they would no longer play their part.

Until now.

“Suu-Taal…” One of the technicians looked toward the interim governor as he spoke the name. “…lower the vat and initialize. We haven’t much time.” The technician bowed their head slowly, the long neck craning sadly as they lowered the last vat possibly forever into the last capable replication machine functioning in any of their facilities. And none of them would be there to see if it worked.

After lowering the vat, the last of them made their way out. Hearing the lightning charge up and the machine begin its process. One did look back sadly. The last weapon, a last hope to take revenge for had been done to them. The technician took a look at the display before closing the door and locking it. Ensuring the nutrient bath had enough protein to sustain whatever was going to maturate and come out of there. Letters crawled across the display, the door closing behind them as the bath began to coalesce and take shape.

--

--

--

- Imperial Maw Installation, Imperial Star Destroyer - 'Victory'....

They were fools. All of the scientists and engineers. Convinced that science was leading them down this road.

But what were they powering the monstrosity with?!?!

Vader smiled under his helmet. Hoping beyond hope that the Emperor WAS actually as stupid as those who worked for him. Now sure and convinced that his 'apprenticeship' was something planned from the start; he had no love for his new Master. Trading one for another. And the Emperor's master was this technological shell they were constructing. Powered by what--Vader didn't have to guess, he knew. Knew as the Emperor did.

The superlaser which would be the primary weapon for this 'Death Star' would be Kyber. Crystals imbued with the power of the Force.

Unknowing to all. It was a Force Weapon.

"Sir"

Vader turned slowly to see a Clone. His blue and white adorned armor had the marks of their latest campaigns to purge the galaxy and end the war. But it was no ordinary clone. Vader was quite fond of Commander Appo. A loyal clone. But looking at him, he sneered under the helmet. Seeing the armor only reminded him that one of his favorites was gone. Hopefully killed. Rex, was a traitor.

"Yes, Commander Appo...." The Clone snapped to attention as Vader spoke.

"Sir, message from Talon Company. They have finished on Kamino and are requesting--" Appo placed a hand to his helmet turning away slightly. Vader stood a bit taller and looked down at the Clone.

"What is it, Commander?"

"Sir, Talon Company they are--" Appo cut off as he reached up and removed the helmet. Under his arm the frequencies still screamed with chatter from inside the visor. "--Talon is under attack. They report a--'thing'...it's garbled..."

"After the Emperor departs, set course for Kamino...."

Vader moved away from the console and back toward the forward viewport. Standing over the Emperor's shoulder he looked down at the smaller man, giving a cursory glance toward Tarkin. The thin Imperial Surrogate got the message and walked away. Both the Emperor and Vader turning to look out into space and the shell that was forming in front of their eyes. Their new weapon.

"Soon...very soon, Lord Vader...."