Before - Legends Sith Politics: No More Games

Title: Sith Politics: No More Games!

Author: PlanetSmasher

Timeframe: The Old Republic Era.

Genre: Action/Adventure/

Characters: All OC characters, Darth Nox (My version of Darth Nox), Darths Marr, Zash, others

Summary: Darth Nox is finally ready to make his move for the throne. Yet, he must do his part to protect the Sith Empire from utter destruction, even as his most powerful servants move to rebel against him.

Notes: This is book three of my series: Sith Politics. My writing skills have leveled-up. I hope you will enjoy this story, and give me your reviews, both positive and negative. Every comment can only help me to grow.

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Chapter One: The Budget​

The Sith Empire was in jeopardy. Darth Nox knew this. He realized Darth Marr was right; infighting among the Dark Council would only help the Galactic Republic. However, Darth Nox, sitting at his desk in his opulent offices at the Sphere of Ancient Knowledge, couldn’t help but think something was not quite right.

“Why do I get the feeling I’ve been hoodwinked again?”

He felt that Marr was using the situation to embed himself as permanent leader of the Dark Council.

“Is he trying to gradually worm his way onto the throne?”

Nox didn’t have any evidence to prove Marr was trying to take the throne for himself, but he couldn’t believe that Marr wasn’t trying. Nox also realized that the longer Marr led the Empire, during their war against the Galactic Republic, the easier it would be for him to claim the throne, and the harder it would be for Nox to validate his claim to the Imperial throne.

“If the Imperial throne was an easy prize to obtain,” Nox thought, consoling himself, “it wouldn’t be worth having.”

Nox returned to his work, reviewing the budget for the Imperial Reclamation Service. This quarter, Field Marshal Rett Herden was asking for an additional half billion credits in addition to the eighty trillion credits he’d already gotten for this quarter’s budget. The field marshal asked for the extra funds to begin work on a newly discovered ruin. Nox couldn’t believe that the commander of the Imperial Reclamation Service couldn’t operate within his budget.

“How can eighty trillion credits not be enough?!” Nox wondered, incredulous.

The dark lord was in the middle of investigating whether someone was misappropriating funds, or if it was simply being wasted.

“How does anyone with an eighty trillion credit budget not find anywhere to make cuts or find wasteful spending that can be eliminated?” he asked himself, again.

Nox fully expected to find evidence of grossly wasteful spending and graft. By eliminating the waste and destroying the thieves within his sphere of influence, he expected to find enough funds to shift towards the new project and have plenty of funds to put in reserve.

However, after long hours of work, and even a missed meal break, Nox found that the Imperial Reclamation Service was actually inadequately funded. They were stretched thinly throughout the galaxy on tens of thousands of archaeological excavations.

When Nox was given official control over Taris by The Dark Council, after taking the planet from his hated rival, Acina, he was also awarded its annual budget, ten billion credits. The small budget, Nox discovered, was the reason for the slow progress in the cleanup and refurbishment of the ruined city-world.

Nox shifted sixty billion credits from the Imperial Reclamation Service, adding the funds to Darth Komo’s budget for his work on Taris. This shift in funds actually exacerbated an already bad problem for the Imperial Reclamation Service.

Nox realized he was going to have to ask the Dark Council for more funding, and immediately realized they would use it against him as an obstacle to the throne.

“The war effort is draining all of our resources,” Nox thought, remembering how close the Empire was to losing the war because of the fuel shortage a few months ago. “They won’t give me any more than I already get.”

Nox considered how difficult it was just to keep the budget he had each council meeting.

The dark lord dialed Field Marshal Herden’s office, but the duty sergeant answered instead.

“Dark Lord!” he exclaimed in surprise, “Field Marshal Herden is at his residence. I shall contact him and tell him to return your call!”

Nox moved a pile of data pads from in front of his chronometer and felt his exhaustion after seeing the time.

“Tell him to come see me in my office when he reports for duty in the morning.”

Nox cut the connection, reclined his chair and fell to sleep.

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Nox awoke to 2V-R8’s gentle prodding.

“Master, Field Marshal Herden is here to see you.”

“What hour is it?” Nox yawned his question, stretching his back.

“It is the eighth hour of the morning, Master,” The droid replied.

Nox figured that he’d gotten four hours of sleep. He felt exhausted, but rose from his reclining chair. He made his way to a small door hidden behind shelving in the corner of his opulent and expansive office.

“Tell the field marshal to wait a while,” he said to his ship droid.

The hidden door silently slid shut behind him.

“Yes, Master,” 2V-R8 replied, but its master was already gone.

Nox walked to a short bench within his private, lavishly appointed fresher and sat, a bit tiredly.

The dark lord undressed, removing his armored boots, followed by his semi rigid long sleeved armored tunic with its deep black and bright yellow patterns. Then he removed his matching flexible armored kilt. Darth Nox was famous for his stylishly bright and loudly colored armor, especially for his sharply contrasting patterned bright yellow and deep black armor. He then removed the thermal protection underlining, a black, tight-fitting, one piece body suit, which covered his body from the top of his neck all the way down, covering even his feet.

His brightly colored armor protected Nox from shrapnel and resisted penetration of lightsaber beams together with his personal shield generator, but the intensely high heat could still pass through and cause second and third degree burns. That’s where his thermal protection underlining came in.

Nox then proceeded to remove his under garments, a solid black long sleeved top and leggings, both made with a soft and smooth material with seamless construction. Nox stepped into the fresher and let the water jets, from several nozzles, stream pulsing flows of water onto him.

2V-R8 entered the fresher and put Nox’s armor, boots, and under linings into a valet. The droid programmed the valet and then left to prepare Nox’s breakfast.

Meanwhile the valet, actually a very specialized droid, laundered Nox’s things, first spraying the insides of Nox’s armor, top, bottom, and boots with an anti-fungal, anti-bacterial solution. The linings were removed to another section of the valet equipped with an agitation washer.

Rotating brushes scrubbed Nox’s armor and boots, inside and out. The armor pieces were then transferred to yet another section of the valet, where his armor and boots were submerged in a bath of nano-droids. Millions of microscopic droids went over his armor making micro repairs to the special heavy armored fabric material, removing scratches, abrasions, rips and tears. The nano-droids also repaired the scratches, chips, and tiny cracks on the paint of Nox’s armored boots, while also restoring its glossy polish, thus restoring their like-new appearance.

Darth Nox had just rinsed the shampoo from his hair, which flowed down his shoulders and over his back, but leaving an awkward male pattern bald spot on the top of his scalp. Actually, his pate was showing the stubble of new hair growth.

Careful to not get any on his long hair, Nox rubbed hair removing cream onto his scalp. After a few moments, he scraped it off with a flexible soft edged scraping tool. Then he thoroughly rinsed off his scalp.

Darth Nox walked out of the fresher, and the water jets automatically shut off. He made his way to a sunken tub and stepped down into it, sinking into the tub to his chin as he sat. The pulsating water jets massaged his muscles as he sat, perfectly relaxed, in the very warm medicated water.

After a few minutes, Nox stepped up out of the tub and took a final cooling shower. After, drying off, he walked into his wardrobe and selected a clean set of under linings, all black, and put those on. In the wardrobe was his freshly laundered and repaired black and yellow armor and boots.

However, Nox chose a different set of armor to wear. This armor was the same style as his famous black and yellow armor, but it was blood red with black markings and patterns.

Nox stepped out of the fresher and walked just a couple of paces to a small table, set with a single chair. The table was also concealed behind the shelves which hid the fresher door. He took a seat, just as 2V-R8 set the table, lifting the cover from the breakfast tray, revealing Nox’s favorite breakfast – which the droid assured him was also quite nutritious.

Nox ate unhurriedly, reading reports from the Ministry of Sith Intelligence, the successor to the Ministry of Imperial Intelligence. The Ministry of Imperial Intelligence had been dismantled by the Dark Council following the downfall of Darth Jadus.

Darth Jadus was cast out of the Dark Council in a most spectacular fashion following his attempt to overthrow the Dark Council. His goal was to remove the Dark Council and form a new government under the rule of the Sith Emperor, with Jadus as the prime minister.

The reports Nox read concerned Hutt activity since the Makeb incident.

The Hutts appeared to be deeply divided about what to do next following the debacle on the destroyed planet, Makeb. The leaders for the majority faction of the Hutt Cartel angrily decried the actions of the faction in the minority, arguing that what they’d done on Makeb was bad for business.

Another faction, a large faction but still in the minority, called for calm, while not explicitly stating their position on the matter. Clearly, they wanted to keep the cartel from fragmenting.

The tiny militant, minority faction, a very small minority, called for the action needed to return the Hutts to the glory of the old Hutt Empire. They argued that the cartel had the credits and resources needed to supplant both the Sith Empire and the Galactic Republic.

Nox chuckled when he’d read, “During a pause in the tumultuous debates, Szajin the Hutt, the self-appointed Archon, was arrested for conspiracy to commit murder. The evidence was all circumstantial, but quite compelling.

“The murder victim was none other than Toborro the Hutt, the one who led the conquest and occupation of Makeb. He was found dead in his compound on Hutta…”

There was more, but Nox stopped reading as he thought, “It seems the Hutts have come to their senses and have chosen not to challenge the Empire or the Republic.”

Nox finished his breakfast and then walked from behind the shelves, which were filled with holocrons, and made his way to his desk.

As soon as he sat behind his desk, he told 2V-R8, “Tell Field Marshal Herden to enter.”

“Yes, Master,” the ship droid replied, leaving its alcove at the side of Nox’s huge office, and making its way to the door.

Nox looked at his desktop chronometer. It was the eleventh hour of the morning.

Field Marshal Rett Herden wasn’t angry, nor did he feel insulted or otherwise miffed. Rett Herden had had to wait to be seen by Nox many times before. This was nothing new to him.

Field Marshal Herden had come prepared to get work done. Arriving to Nox’s reception area with a small team of assistants, runners, and droids, he reported in as ordered to Nox’s office.

As soon as the dark lord’s droid said, “Field Marshal Herden, please make yourself comfortable. Darth Nox will see you as soon as he is available,” he knew he’d be waiting for a few hours.

“Thank you,” the field marshal politely told the droid, “I’ll be right here, waiting.”

As soon as the door slid shut and the droid was gone, Field Marshal Herden turned about and pointed at one of the caf tables, and his staff immediately got to work setting up his work space. Within five minutes, he was at work reviewing a report and in conference with one of his field excavation commanders.

Three hours later, just as he was wrapping up one of his conferences with some of his other field excavation commanders, the door to Nox’s office slid open and the dark lord’s droid informed him, “The dark lord will receive you, now.”

“Very well,” Herden replied. Then he told his field commanders, “We’ll have to wrap this up. The dark lord is ready for me.”

The field marshal cut the connection, ending the conference call.

“Wrap this up,” he told his team, “Take it all back to the office.”

Then he proceeded to Darth Nox’s office, passing through the door and walking half way into the expansive space. The huge office was lined with shelves, filled with ancient holocrons, on either side, leaving a huge space open to show off his rug.

The field marshal stopped on the center of Nox’s hundred meter by hundred meter rug, woven with a stunning black and yellow pattern. It was a prize of war that the dark lord had claimed from a noble’s palace on Alderaan many years ago.

Rett Herden knelt on his right knee and planted his right fist onto the rug, and bent his head.

“Dark Lord, you honor me greatly!” the field marshal declared as though proudly, “Thank you for receiving me into your presence! What is the will of my august dark lord?”

“Rise, Field Marshal Herden,” Darth Nox told his subordinate commander.

Field Marshal Herden rose to his feet and then snapped to parade rest, with his feet shoulder width apart, and his hands crossed at the small of his back, with fingers extended and flat.

“Field Marshal,” Darth Nox began, “the Imperial Reclamation Service has an eighty trillion annual budget. How is it that you can’t find a half billion credits to develop this new dig site?”

Field Marshal Herden was careful not to mention that Nox had shifted sixty billion credits over to another program, wiping out his discretionary funds and forcing him to shut down thirty eight dig sights.

Instead, he said, “Dark Lord, we have several tens of thousands of dig sites scattered over thousands of planets, both in and out of Imperial space. Additionally, we have several construction projects currently under way to add more storage capacity and research centers for the many new archaeological finds that we make.

“Our current storage capacity is nearly exhausted, and we have a great need to expand our research capacity. We simply have way too many artifacts to study and not enough researchers. So, not only must we build new facilities, we must also hire many new researchers.

“Additionally, Dark Lord, we have made an unexpected discovery on Korriban. It is not a tomb but a subterranean research facility carved out of solid granite.

“We believe we have found a pre-Sith facility built some time shortly after the ancient Dark Jedi arrived on Korriban to settle there. The ruin is in nearly perfect condition. The request for additional funds is for that, Dark Lord.”

Darth Nox nodded acknowledgement of the revelation.

“What secrets will I find there?” he wondered, intrigued.

Darth Nox produced a datapad from his desk drawer and set it on the desk top to his left side. 2V-R8 walked briskly from his alcove at the side of the office and walked behind Nox’s wide desk to pick up the device. The droid then walked the device over to Field Marshal Herden.

“I have written a new policy for how new dig sites will be handled,” Nox said, “and how it will affect the budget. You shall implement the new policies contained therein. Come to me, with questions if you find any part of that policy problematic.”

Herden was not going to tell the dark lord there were problems with his new policies. Instead, he would make sure the spirit of the policy was executed, ensuring Nox’s will was carried out.

“I know the Dark Council will not give me more,” Nox told the field marshal, “You will need to prioritize. The new policy will direct you on how to prioritize dig sites including the shutting down of certain sites.”

Field Marshal Rett Herden was disappointed to hear this, but Darth Nox had just told him he wouldn’t be able to get more funding from the Dark Council.

“I understand, Dark Lord,” the field marshal acknowledged, “The policy contained in this datapad will guide me on how to reallocate funding by prioritizing some dig sites and closing others down.”

“Good,” Nox said, “There is one last thing I need from you before you are dismissed, Field Marshal.”

“Yes, Dark Lord. How else may I be of service?”

Nox set another datapad on the desk beside him, and again, 2V-R8 quickly stepped to Nox’s wide desk, stepping around and behind it to reach the datapad. The droid then quickly walked back around the desk and stopped before the field marshal, presenting the datapad before finally returning to its alcove at the side of Nox’s grand and opulent office.

“It is a list of the items I will need,” Nox explained, “several droids, a military shuttle craft, and various scientific equipment which I require to take measurements and to record the data for an experiment I shall conduct. When I board the shuttle, I will tell the pilot the coordinates he must take me. I want all of the items on that list loaded onto the shuttle within two hours.

“Send the security droids, on my list, to the shuttle to guard it and to await my arrival. Send the work droids to the research facility to the level below, to gather the items on that list and then have them load the shuttle. They are to wait for me at the shuttle along with the security droids. Do you have any questions, Field Marshal?”

“No, Dark Lord. I will see to it that it is done. I will call you to inform you when the items on your list are all aboard the shuttle and ready for your use.”

“Good. That is all. You are dismissed.”

The field marshal snapped to attention, declaring, “It has been my greatest honor to be found useful to my dark lord!”

Nox nodded his acknowledgment, and Rett Herden turned smartly about and marched out of Nox’s office.

“Red and black armor, this time, eh?” Herden thought to himself, “He’s changed his hair, too.”

Nox had arranged his hair in a single thick braid going down his back, instead of his customary top knot, which stuck out from the back of his head, like a short rod with a bushy end.

The field marshal was glad that Nox wanted a shuttle. It meant that, whatever that experiment was, the dark lord was going to conduct it somewhere far away. Years ago, Nox had conducted his first few experiments in the research center in the floor above the field marshal’s headquarters, it caused several of his personnel to be driven mad with fear.

Those were quite chaotic episodes which caused a great deal of mayhem on several of the sublevels of The Citadel. The Imperial Reclamation Service’s headquarters was not the only organization thrown into chaos. Several other administrative offices from other neighboring organizations were also severely affected.

Field Marshal Herden was glad it wasn’t he who had to tell Darth Nox to conduct his research elsewhere. Under the advice of his Sith lord servants, Nox had begun to take his experiments deep into the jungles of Dromund Kaas, well away from any centers of civilization.

As Herden walked through the corridors on his way to a bank of turbolifts, another puzzling thought occurred to him.

“My budget is only eighty trillion out of the Empire’s entire budget of three thousand six hundred trillion, and he worries the Dark Council can’t afford to add a mere half a billion credits to my budget?”

The turbolift took him down a few levels to the Imperial Reclamation Service headquarters. He’d been pondering the dark lord’s worry over such a minuscule increase.

“Something is terribly wrong,” he thought with a sinking feeling, “Are we losing the war?”

 

Chapter Two: A Discussion With Khartem’kahl​

Darth Nox stepped off of the Imperial Army dropship and onto the crumbling ruined temple grounds covered in aggressively growing plant life deep in the inhospitable jungle of Dromund Kaas. Ten medium duty work droids, six medium duty security droids, and one field repair service droid followed Nox off of the transport. The work droids carried Nox’s equipment for his coming experiment.

When Nox and his droids had gotten a safe distance away, the dropship gently lifted off and departed to the East, returning to Kaas City Spaceport well over six hundred kilometers away. The dark lord had sent the shuttle away expecting to spend several days in the ruins, searching. As the screaming whine of the Imperial Army dropship receded into the distance, Nox swept his eyes across the vine and plant covered ruins of an ancient temple complex. It brought back many memories for him, all of them unpleasant.

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Sixteen years ago, before Nox was forced to face his trials at the Sith Academy on Korriban, he was a slave named Kallig toiling for a merchant at a warehouse in Ziost City on Dromund Kaas. It was during this time that, against the advice of his fellows on the Dark Council, Darth Arctis, the dark lord ruling over the Sphere of Ancient Knowledge, directed the Imperial Reclamation Service to excavate the millennia abandoned temple complex.

It was quite a feat! Ten square kilometers of jungle was cut down and the tree roots carefully dug up to avoid damaging the buried ancient structures. The plant debris was then all hauled away from the temple grounds. The plant debris was ground into sawdust and left as piles of compost for the jungle to reclaim.

Vines, shrubs, and plants of every kind had been removed by the toil and sweat of many thousands of slaves. The meters deep soil covering the grounds was carefully excavated and hauled away by leased commercial excavation droids and their contracted civilian excavation droid handlers. All of this work was carried out under the careful supervision of Imperial Reclamation Service military archaeologists.

During the excavation, the military archaeologists, civilian contractors, and slaves had faced many harrowing dangers, from the wild beasts, disease, and the malign influence of the Dark Side of The Force, which permeated the temple complex. However, this did not deter them from getting the job done. Hundreds of buildings were successfully excavated on the site.

The temple grounds were paved with a tile work of massive sandstone blocks that covered the entire ten kilometer square complex. The sandstone pavement blocks were each five meters, by five meters, by one meter thick. After thousands of years, the jungle had forced its way into the complex. A few trees had stubbornly forced their way between the massive crumbling tiles at the edges of the complex.

However, it was mostly the successive cycles of growing and dying of vines, plants, shrubs, and wild beasts which had built up a thick layer of soil that eventually buried the complex’s hundreds of structures several meters deep. The wild plants, shrubs, and trees simply took advantage of the deepening soil to grow their way across the long abandoned complex.

The only structure still visible before the jungle was removed was the massive pyramidal temple, which was itself covered in a deep layer of soil, trees and vegetation. The reason, one could tell there was a pyramid under the jungle growth was because of its artificial pyramidal profile above the tree tops of the dense jungle floor.

What was revealed at the end of the excavation was a mini city with many administrative buildings, storage structures, barracks, and residences, all constructed out of sandstone and granite blocks. In the center of the entire complex was the massive pyramidal temple with scores of very wide stairs leading up to a grand facade with massive sixty meter high columns, framing the grand entrance part way up the pyramid.

The soldier-archaeologists, contractors, and slaves braved the rigors of the dense jungles, despite suffering many casualties. Although the influence of the Dark Side negatively impacted the morale of the troops and made the misery of the civilians and slaves even worse, the Imperial soldiers persevered, the civilian contractors thought of their paydays, and the slaves had no choice but to press on – they had to eat.

The civilian contractors were the lucky ones. Their jobs were done, and their contracts had ended. Their presence was no longer required, and so they were sent away, along with their excavation droids.

The day had finally come, three years after the start of the massive excavation project, when the hill-sized pyramid itself was finally opened. The highest ranking military officers of the Imperial Reclamation Service leading the operation and the Sith lords overseeing the project were the first living beings to enter the temple in thousands of years.

As they took their first few steps into the ancient ruined temple, the madness had finally swept out from the pyramid, falling upon the thousands of troops and slaves assigned to the massive project, like a wave of flood water washing across the landscape. Their pride, perseverance, and pragmatism could do nothing to prevent what happened to them.

The troops of the Imperial Reclamation Service, the slaves, and indeed most of the few dozen Sith lords who oversaw the project, had been driven insane with the delusion that they were the lords of Sith who inhabited the temple complex thousands of years in the nearly forgotten past.

Four Sith lords, who were wise enough to shield their minds and their beings with The Force, escaped the madness, fleeing deep into the jungle many kilometers from the archaeological dig site, and called for an extraction team to come rescue them.

The four had been summoned to the council chamber by a rival of Darth Arctis, Darth Vowrawn. He demanded the four give a report of the disaster which had befallen the expedition to the Dark Council.

Furious and humiliated, Darth Arctis asked, of the four survivors, “After three years of excavations during which you have been feeling the effects of the Dark Side, and knowing the nature of that complex, how is it that you allowed ordinary men to enter the temple? Why didn’t you prepare the other Sith, working on the project, to shield themselves as well? Why didn’t you take the necessary precautions before opening the temple?”

Furious, and embarrassed by this failure, Darth Arctis didn’t wait for their answers. Instead he immediately ordered their executions. The Sith lords protested the order.

“It was not our fault!” one of them stated, “We were not in charge!”

Darth Rictus, who was an old man but greatly feared on the Dark Council, spoke up.

“Even if you were not in charge, you should have said something to someone who was. Your failure to foresee such a possibility and to prevent its happening is the result of the careless and lackadaisical attitude of your entire operation.”

It was plain to the dark councilors there, that although the words were directed at the four Sith being judged, the words were really a condemnation of Arctis, who ignored the Dark Council’s warnings. Arctis was deeply humiliated by Rictus’ words, but he said nothing. The failure of the Imperial Reclamation Service could be traced all the way up to him if the Dark Council desired to go that far.

Darth Vowrawn kept a straight face, even as he inwardly enjoyed his success at humiliating his rival.

“Let’s get this over with,” Darth Vowrawn said, “I have things I want to discuss, and we are taking too much time with this.”

Darth Rictus’ arms lay on the armrests on his seat. He slightly raised his right hand at the wrist, pointing a finger at the four Sith lords, and the four dropped to the floor, dead. With that demonstration of power in The Force, he once again reminded everyone on the Dark Council the reason they gave him such deference.

The business of the Dark Council went on with the corpses of the dead on the council chamber floor. The corpses were not removed until after the dark councilors had left the council chamber hours later.

Cleaning up the problem at the dig site was promising to be a major mess. The cleanup was assigned by the Dark Council to Darth Mortis, again to the humiliation of Darth Arctis. Darth Mortis ordered a division of Imperial Army light infantry to forcibly remove the raving lunatics roving the complex.

After receiving a report of how so many thousands had gone mad for just being at the site, the commanding general of this unit, Brigadier General Rickard Brants, wisely kept his troops out of the complex, instead ordering his division to surround the temple grounds and ordering the capture, if possible, of any of the maddened military archaeologists or slaves which might wander off the temple complex.

No instructions were given about what to do with the Sith lords who’d fallen victim to the madness. Brigadier General Brants’ subordinate officers correctly interpreted this lack of guidance as unspoken orders to eliminate those Sith lords. They were killed on sight.

A raging madman with the power of The Force was far too dangerous to attempt capture. No chances would be taken with their own safety. Of course, the official reports would state that these Sith lords were killed by the affected raving madmen in the temple complex.

What was revealed, after the interrogations of the few soldiers and slaves that were captured, was that the maddened individuals were reenacting – well, actually living, the bloody five way civil war that saw Sith lord pitted against Sith lord, as they fought for dominance over all other Sith. The soldiers, slaves, and the Sith lords had been slaughtering one another, in combat, for control of the temple complex.

Armed with the knowledge of what happened to the Six Hundred and Nineteenth Archaeological Regiment and the entire archaeological expedition, Brigadier General Brants informed his command of his strategy.

“We aren’t stepping foot on that complex, not a single one of us. Kill any you see with long range sniper fire, and long range blaster rifle engagements. If they leave the grounds to challenge us, we’ll close with and destroy them – but only outside of the complex grounds. We shall not pursue the fleeing enemy onto the cursed temple grounds.”

Over the next few weeks, the soldiers of the Imperial Reclamation Service and the maddened slaves had decimated themselves and reduced their own numbers down to only a few score of troops and slaves remaining, even while Brigadier General Brants’ troops picked off the ones they could with long range sniper fire.

Lord Pharshol, in actuality a sergeant in the Imperial Reclamation Service who believed himself to be the ancient Sith lord, had the advantage over his one remaining rival, Sith Lord Vacuus, who in actuality was a slave believing himself to be that Sith lord. However, a stalemate had developed in their civil war. So, the killings came to a halt with a momentary truce.

Meanwhile, greatly humiliated, Darth Arctis lost quite a bit of influence and power in the Dark Council. He died a few weeks after the cleanup operation of the temple complex had begun. The cause of death was determined to be – natural causes. Darth Thanaton ascended to the Dark Council, succeeding his dead lord.

It was nearly twelve years ago, some months after Thanaton ascended the Dark Council and a few years after he’d left the Sith Academy that Nox, then known as Kallig, Lord of The Sith, had to meet with his master, Darth Zash. He was to assist her with a dark ritual at this very temple. The last remnants of the remaining maddened archaeologists and slaves continued to whittle their own numbers down, with Kallig and Khem Val having had to kill a few of them on their way to a sacred chamber within the temple itself.

Prior to entering the grounds, Kallig had prepared his mind and body, to guard them from the madness that was still permeating the temple complex. Yet, he was woefully unprepared for his master’s coming betrayal. It was here that his old master, Darth Zash, attempted to steal his body so that she could extend her life while sacrificing his. Kallig was most fortunate that his disgruntled minion, Khem Val, had intervened and saved his life, despite hating Kallig in those days.

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Twelve years had passed since the day the excavation site was again closed, since the last of the remaining maddened Sith, military archaeologists and slaves had finally wiped themselves out. The temple was sealed off and, once again, all were forbidden to enter the temple complex.

Nox was amazed at what an impressive comeback the jungle had made in just over a decade since his last time at these ruins. The aggressively growing vegetation was, once again, well on their way to concealing the ancient ruined buildings with vines, plants and bushy shrubs. Broad-leafed plants, growing knee high, almost completely hid the massive tile stones that paved the temple grounds from view. The massive sandstone tiles that paved the ten kilometer square grounds were mostly reburied under soil already several centimeters deep in several places.

Twelve years ago, when he went to meet his master, not a single sprout grew anywhere on the temple grounds, but upon his return, over a decade later, he could see that the jungle had, once again, begun to reclaim its prize. In a few more decades, if he lived that long, Nox expected to see the trees begin to force their way into the compound again, as the soil became deeper.

Nox had come alone, bringing only his droids. His droids did the heavy lifting as they cleared the vegetation, from the stone slab veranda, which had re-grown their way up to the top of the wide steps leading to the grand entrance of the pyramidal temple. The droids also busily scraped away the soil which had been accumulating anew on the ancient temple’s veranda at the top of the grand stairs.

Meanwhile the security droids stood guard or conducted security perimeter patrols, keeping watch for any threat which might attempt to ascend the stairs to the grand entrance and interfere with Nox’s experiment. He didn’t expect bandits or enemies, but gundarks, which made this region one of their habitats on Dromund Kaas. Gundarks were a particularly ornery and aggressive jungle beast which could rampage through his experiments and ruin his work.

Nox directed his droid work detail to set up his instruments which would record many different aspects of the environment and capture any anomalies while he conducted his ritual. The devices, mounted on tripods, were set up on the ancient stone veranda at the top of the grand stairs just in front of the grand entrance, which was once again sealed.

The veranda was a single huge sandstone slab that had been sundered in two places during the ancient civil war, Nox could only imagine how, but it represented a powerful control of The Force greater than any blaster rifle which was in use by the maddened soldiers just over a decade ago. Next he went about activating each device, ensuring they were correctly calibrated and functioning properly.

Nox ordered the droids off of the veranda. They walked off of the stone slab and partway down the stairs, which were still covered with the jungle vegetation. There, the droids waited for further instructions.

In the meantime, the dark lord set up a portable field plasma cook stove, setting the tiny camping stove on the stone floor. He set a tiny pot on the plasma stove and poured water into it from his canteen. Then he began to open his military field rations, setting a couple of the pouches into the pot with its already boiling water, to heat up the rations.

Next he took out his field mess kit and waited for the food to heat up. The dark lord, poured the contents from one of the heated pouches into his mess tin. From the other pouch, he tore pieces of the reheated flat bread from its pouch, then picked up his eating utensil. Thus, Nox prepared his midday meal, a hearty nerf stew and baked flat bread, and a cup of hot caf.

As he ate, he thought about his coming experiment, worrying that if his quarry were unsuitable for his purposes that his efforts here would be in vain. He would have to move to another location within the temple complex and repeat the entire process, setting up the instruments and conducting the ritual again, and again, until he found a suitable subject for his experiment. This promised to be a tedious few days.

Nox contemplated breaking the seal to enter the temple if things did not pan out with his search.

“Maybe in there, next time…,” he thought, while looking at the sealed temple entrance.

The dark lord finished his meal, taking the last bite of his cooling flat bread which he’d used to sop up the last of his stew.

Nox set aside his emptied field mess kit, and instructed one of the droids to wash the items for him. As he collapsed and secured his tiny field plasma cook stove, Nox realized he was alone, and that any failure here could mean his death or the loss of his sanity.

“I probably should have brought Khem Val with me,” Nox thought, uselessly – too late.

Nox finally began to prepare for his ritual. He sat and, closing his eyes, began to meditate. He concentrated, gathering the power of the Dark Side of The Force to him. In this place it wasn’t hard. The Dark Side was very strong here.

When he felt that he was ready, he began his ritual. The ritual was one of a few methods used for detecting and luring the Force ghost of a long dead Sith or Jedi, forcing them to reveal themselves to the ritualist.

The strange accidents and disastrous events that forced the Imperial Reclamation Service to shut down archaeological operations at this ancient temple were, to those who studied such things, telltale signs of the presence of one or more Force ghosts.

Nox’s worry was that the Force ghost, which he was very sure was of a long dead Sith lord, probably one of the Sith who died during the ancient civil war, had gone insane. If so, the Force ghost would be useless to him.

The dark lord began to permeate the area with his presence, using The Force to expand his aura into the very stone blocks of the temple, the stairs, and the paved grounds. As Nox’s aura permeated the soil, and every living plant which covered the stairs, and the vines which were growing over everything, insects and other small creatures came out from hiding to flee in terror.

Nox concentrated in this fashion for quite some time, until he began to feel The Force push back against him. It wasn’t The Force however. There was an intelligence behind the attempts to push away at Nox’s presence. The dark lord of the Sith cracked a wry grin.

“I’ve got you!” Nox thought, savagely.

He pushed even harder, this time pouring in his malice. Soon, Nox was overcome with a sense of terrible dread, as the area around him became flooded with an air of deep unending fury, and unfathomable hatred. Nox willed himself not to let up the pressure and to not give in to his growing fear.

“Tsuktah Khack!”

Nox perceived the voice, filled with deep hatred, as though it were emanating from within his mind, echoing. Nox did not let up the pressure, but he worried that the Force ghost had gotten into his mind. After a moment, however, he realized it was an illusion, meant to make him think so, to unsettle him.

Nox became thrilled when the Force ghost spoke again.

“Rrahghah neth halet?!”

It was the language of his ancient ancestors, the dead language of the Sith Pureblood, a tongue that hadn’t been spoken in nearly four thousand years, except by a very precious few scholars, Nox being one of them.

Nox replied to the Force ghost in that ancient dead tongue.

“You seemed so lonely, with no one to talk to. That is why I am disturbing your slumber.”

“I should consume your being, erase your existence!” the furious ancient spirit blasted back.

“You don’t want me to keep you company?” Nox asked, mockingly.

“Why do you meddle in my rest?”

The long dead Sith lord studied the living interloper sitting cross legged on the temple veranda. He was dressed in a very flamboyantly stylish set of armor, red and black in color. The Sith’s hair was done in a thick braid, draped down between his shoulder blades, a most flamboyant style.

“Why do you disturb my peace?”

Nox knew that what he said in response to the long dead Force ghost, would mean nothing to the ancient Sith Lord. The Sith Code had not yet been formally codified in the spirit’s ancient lifetime.

“Peace is a lie! There is only passion!” Nox said, scornfully. Rebuking the ancient dead Sith Lord, he added, “Don’t speak to me of such a useless thing as peace!” Then with venom in his tongue, Nox said, “Only the Jedi speak of peace as though it means something. Please, don’t tell me that you are a long dead Jedi.”

The Force ghost became infuriated at such an insult and attacked Nox with a wave of Dark Force energy. However, Nox was prepared and guarded against the attack.

“What was that supposed to do? Are you trying to make me laugh? Please don’t tell me that’s all of the power you have,” Nox said, scornfully. He then scathingly derided the spirit. “It’s pathetic! You must be a long dead Jedi!”

“I am Khartem’kahl, Lord of The Sith! Do not mock what you do not understand!” the Force ghost returned angrily.

“A name,” Nox said in Imperial Basic, “Now we’re getting somewhere.”

“What gibberish was that, whelp? Has your mind already become addled?”

“You have told me your name, Khartem’kahl. Now I shall tell you mine. I am Darth Nox, Dark Lord of The Sith.”

“Dark lord?! You?! Don’t make me laugh!” the ancient spirit said, mockingly, “You’re naught but a whelp, still wet after your birth!”

Nox was about to respond, but at that instant his security droids began firing their blaster rifles and their one light blaster cannon. The enraged roar of a fearsome beast answered the reports of the medium energy combat arms. Nox bolted to his feet, and drew his sabrestaff. There was no doubt about it. That roar belonged to a gundark, a big one!

Khartem’kahl laughed, “Now you will die, whelp!”

Nox realized that Khartem’kahl had somehow summoned the beast, drawing it to the temple steps from deep in the jungle.

“So, his soul is tied to the temple, but his influence can extend beyond the complex into the jungle beyond!” Nox reasoned to himself, acknowledging, “He is strong!”

The sounds of metal explosively crashing against metal attested to the great violence of the gundark’s rampaging attack against his droids, and the diminishing sounds of blaster rifles shooting was a testament to the effectiveness of that attack. Nox ran to the edge of the expansive stone slab veranda, igniting his sabrestaff.

As he reached the top of the wide stairs, he engaged a locking mechanism that separated his sabrestaff into twin lightsaber hilts. Beholding the chaotic scene on the stairs below, he saw a full grown adult gundark bull.

He was amazed to see that the gundark was using a large tree log as a shield to block the blaster bolts as the beast swung one of his medium duty droids, using it as a club, knocking away the last of his security droids. Nox immediately realized that Khartem’kahl was actually directly controlling the gundark’s actions.

He executed a Force Persuasion technique on the gundark, attempting to sever Khartem’kahl’s connection to the violent creature, but his attempt only partially succeeded. While Khartem’kahl worked to strengthen his control of the enraged gundark, Nox’s attempt to break that control also had an effect that he did not like.

The gundark noticed Nox’s presence and immediately charged after him, but this also caused Khartem’kahl to lose complete control of the beast. However, to the long dead Sith lord, that did not matter, because the effect was practically the same. The beast was after his enemy.

Nox, became instantly alarmed, and worried greatly that his instruments and his precious data could be destroyed by the rampaging beast. So, he ran down the stairs to lure the beast away from his instruments.

The gundark became greatly surprised. It was accustomed to watching its prey flee in terror. The beast had never had a prey charge at it before, and so it paused in its tracks, carefully studying its prey’s movements.

Nox blasted the monster with Force Lightning, using both hands. The monster was greatly surprised and hopped back, giving a surprised shout from the painful sting of the Force Lightning attack. Then, using The Force, Nox lifted one of the destroyed security droids and sent it flying into the back of the beast’s head.

The monster rubbed the thick hide on its chest to alleviate the stinging sensation from the Force Lightning strike while keeping a wary eye on Nox. The creature was greatly surprised by what had struck it at the back of its head. It snap-turned about to see what was attacking it from behind. Nox dashed forward, using The Force to speed him forward, and stabbed the beam of his main hand twin lightsaber into the monster’s buttocks, which was head high to the Sith lord.

Nox was shocked at just how hard the beast’s hide and musculature was. His weapon only penetrated half way, and slashing the blade out was met with great resistance. The dark lord was forced to deactivate his weapon to break it free of the beast’s tough rump, while jumping back to avoid the screaming beast’s backhand attack. Nox immediately realized that it was actually Khartem’kahl’s doing. The long dead Sith lord protected the beast from Nox’s lightsaber attacks, while attempting to pin the dark lord within the range of the beast’s long reach.

However, the beast could no longer rampage about, and its movements were greatly hampered, but it became greatly enraged! Khartem’kahl watched in glee as the monster blindly attacked the space around it, throwing the log it had used as a shield and the droid it used as a club, both at Nox. Nox easily dodged the hurtling objects, but the beast took to ripping shrubs from the shallow soil on the stairs and threw those at Nox, who then used The Force to deflect the flying shrubbery.

The beast charged at Nox, but the painfully sharp stabbing pain in its buttocks stopped it in its tracks. It furiously roared at the sky, clearly frustrated. Nox used that opportunity to hurl another ruined droid from behind the beast, to strike it at the back of its head again. The beast quickly turned to see what was attacking it from behind, as it had done before.

As before, Nox used that opportunity to attack the beast’s exposed back, this time attacking with both lightsaber hilts. However, the beast remembered that’s how it got stabbed in the butt the last time. It turned back, with Nox in midair, both weapons poised to pierce it. Nox found the beast’s reflexes astounding!

Lightning fast, the beast was already swinging its huge arm as though to backhand Nox and swat him away. Nox adjusted the aim of his main hand weapon, while deactivating his offhand weapon. He pierced the beast’s forearm in between the radius and ulna, instead of the monster’s back.

Nox used The Force to guard against the monster’s powerful strike, but he went flying anyway. Again, using The Force, he regained his balance in midair and controlled his landing. The dark lord was winded, and badly battered from the strike, but he remained alert.

The beast struggled as it limped away, clutching its forearm with its other clawed hand, and yowling in agony. Nox deactivated his main hand weapon and recombined the twin hilts, reforming his sabrestaff. After composing himself, the dark lord limped back up the stairs to the veranda. Lord Khartem’kahl stared angrily at Nox as the dark lord approached the Sith lord’s Force Ghost.

“What did you say your name was?” the Force Ghost asked in the ancient dead language of the Sith Pureblood.

“Darth Nox,” the dark lord replied in that same dead language.

“What do you want from me, Darth?”

“Darth is my title. Address me as Darth Nox, or as Dark Lord.”

Khartem’kahl was clearly not amused, but he could see that Nox was not making a joke, either.

“Darth Nox, then,” Khartem’kahl corrected.

“I want to conduct a Dark Force experiment, but I need your help to do it,” Nox said, answering the Force ghost’s question.

Khartem’kahl became visibly alarmed. He clearly realized that his existence was in jeopardy, although he did not know by what means he was endangered. However, a Sith lord plainly told him he wanted to experiment with him! He prepared to renew his desperate battle for survival against the clearly powerful Darth Nox.

“Experiment?! What is this experiment?!” he demanded, his tone clearly giving away his intent to not give his cooperation.

“I want to learn if a Sith lord who has become a Force ghost can commandeer the body of a living Sith lord and thus come back to the world of the living.”

Incredulity overcame the Force ghost. He had to be sure that he heard the dark lord correctly.

“You want me to test a ritual that will bring me back from the dead? Alive, again?”

“Yes, that’s it exactly,” Nox replied matter-of-factly.

“That’s impossible! That can’t be done!”

Nox shrugged, speaking quite frankly.

“I don’t know if it will work. That’s why it’s an experiment.”

“My existence could end,” Khartem’kahl said, as though weighing the consequences of a failed experimental ritual.

“My research indicates the one to suffer consequences of failure would be my apprentice,” Nox weighed in, speculating, “If the ritual succeeds, then my apprentice’s existence will end, and you will have a new body. If it fails, you won’t lose anything, but my apprentice might end up completely insane or dead.”

“What if I refuse?” Khartem’kahl challenged.

“I literally cannot force you to do this. You have to learn the ritual, and you have to perform it. All I can do is to bring my apprentice for you to ambush and make the attempt.”

“What do I get in return, if I cooperate?”

“You get a new Force sensitive body and a new life to do what you will with it. Don’t expect me to give you anything else besides that,” Nox said.

With that, Khartem’kahl strongly suspected that Nox would betray and kill him. No Sith lord ever gave up an opportunity to rule over other Sith lords.

“Is he actually offering me my freedom?” he asked himself.

He tested Nox.

“You are being too generous. I get a new life among the living, and my freedom.”

Nox realized his mistake, too late, but tried to cover for it.

“If you consider a life of service to me as freedom, then yes. I allow my servants to live and prosper as they will, so long as they do my bidding when I demand it of them. It’s a fair trade, service to me in exchange for some autonomy.”

Khartem’kahl was almost willing to believe Nox, but he knew that there would be something that he would never be able to give the dark lord if it were demanded of him. That is, to forget the ritual that would be taught him. He knew Nox would want to protect his secret.

However, Khartem’kahl had grown tired of his existence. He had forgotten how invigorating merely speaking with another capable and talented mind could be, even if his interactions with this dark lord was rife with hostility, it was nevertheless thrilling to the ancient Sith Force Ghost.

His existence was an eternity of emptiness. No challenges, no new experiences, no way to leave this little piece of the temple complex. His existence was forever tied to this place, this desolate ruin in the uncivilized jungle.

Khartem’kahl was willing to risk ending his monotonous existence if he could live, even for a short time again. The Force ghost had a random thought that hadn’t occurred for him to consider in over twenty five hundred years.

“Oh! To breathe in the air and smell the scents of a living world around me again!”

“I will do as you ask, Darth Nox. In exchange for my new life, I shall serve you, as I seek to make a place for myself in the world of the living,” the ancient Sith lord said, realizing that he would need to flee with his new life and go into hiding.

Nox was exceedingly pleased. He smiled his deep satisfaction, nodding his approval.

“Most excellent! I shall return here with my apprentice in one month’s time, but now I shall teach you the technique. You must master the technique before my return with my apprentice.”

Khartem’kahl’s Force ghost nodded its acquiescence, and Nox began the lesson.

 

Chapter Three: A Pawn To Be Sacrificed​

Darth Virulous was seated quietly, in front of her master’s desk, listening with rapt attention to Nox as he spoke to her. He had summoned her to appear before him, and had her sit in front of his massive desk. Whatever he wanted to speak to her about had to be very, very important to her.

“You are strong in The Force, Darth Virulous, you’ve shown an aptitude for dark Force techniques and rituals, but I need you to be stronger,” Nox, seated in his office chair behind his desk, told his apprentice before asking, “You’ve seen some of my power, haven’t you?”

“I have also felt it, Master. If I did not shield my mind, I would be crushed by your dark aura,” Virulous confessed to her lord.

“Have you ever wondered how it is that I could wield such enormous power? Have you ever asked yourself, how is it possible?”

“I have, Dark Lord. While I have learned various techniques for manipulating The Force, both from reading the ancient scripts in the archives and from watching you, and while I have gained insight into how some of your techniques are done, I could never grasp how it is that your power can reach such levels,” Virulous said, before taking a great risk to ask, “Will you teach me this, Master?”

She knew how jealously Nox guarded his secrets. Merely asking for access to his most closely guarded secrets could send him into a foul mood. Virulous had to pry knowledge from Nox’s grasp to learn what she could.

At times Nox would angrily shout at her, giving a vague hint and sending her out of his sight. Virulous would have to sort through the insults and berating comments to find the nugget, and then she would slink into the archives to figure out the rest on her own. At other times, Nox would grudgingly share a secret, giving a generally vague explanation of it only once, and then send her away to figure out the details for herself.

Then there were the rare times, like this one, when Nox would unhurriedly speak, allowing her to ask her questions and then actually take the time to answer them.

“I’m going to teach you a ritual that will allow you to subdue a Force ghost and subsume its power,” Nox told her with a pleased expression, “I feel you are ready.”

Virulous became greatly disappointed on hearing this. Nox could see it quite plainly on her face. She did not even bother with trying to hide her great displeasure. Nox became indignant at her attitude and let her know it.

“Perhaps you would rather go back to digging up dusty old relics with no value other than its old and uninteresting history?”

“Master, this was the same story you told me when you tried to trick me into interacting with the Rakata Mind Trap. Did you forget? You imprisoned Juuldis’ consciousness in it so that Darth Zash could take her body. How could you forget, Dark Lord?” Virulous asked.

She was careful not to raise her voice at Nox, but it was quite plain that she was quite miffed at her master. The memory of that day in Taris’ ruined structures suddenly flooded Nox’s mind and his eyes registered his recollection of that time. The ridiculousness of this moment, in his office, caused the dark lord to burst into laughter.

“That’s right! I remember it now!” he said, following with another round of laughter.

“At the time, I told you the truth about the ritual, but I had no intention of actually teaching you how it was done. You are correct. At that time I wanted to trick you into interacting with the mind trap,” he admitted.

His mood began to sour as he shook his head, disgusted at his laps in recollecting that moment on Taris.

“This time, however, I’m actually going to teach you the ritual. I need you stronger than you are now. I want you to be able to back me when I make my move for the throne,” Nox said, a faint smile was all that remained of his good mood.

However, even that tenuously remaining good humor completely evaporated from his countenance, when he recalled that moments before his lie to Virulous, his worshipful and capable apprentice, Darth Xalek, had been killed by one of the Jedi his faithful servant and Virulous had been battling.

“Then you really do have the Force Ghosts of long dead Sith lords enslaved to your will, Dark Lord?” his apprentice asked, deeply skeptical.

“I have subsumed their existences. They are now a part of my own existence. I admit I am not the same man I was before. Although, my strong will has permitted most of my personality to come through,” Nox told her, soberly.

“However, the path for you to take the power of more than a single Force Ghost is closed to you. There is a machine that remade my body, at the genetic level, in order that my body could withstand these enormous levels of power. However, that machine is on Belsavis, a Republic prison planet. It has likely come under Republic Control since I’ve left that planet so long ago.

“I should have destroyed that machine when I was done with it. It was an intact and active Rakata device. The remnants of the Rakatan civilization were using it to experiment with making Force sensitive intelligent life forms with the intent of revitalizing their dying species, allowing them to reestablish their Infinite Empire, a wholly fruitless endeavor. If that technology has fallen into the hands of the Republic...”

Nox shook his head, wondering if the Rakata who operated the machine were still in control or if the Republic had discovered their secret.

Nox returned to the subject.

“It is possible to consume the Force Ghost of one individual without adversely affecting your physical and psychological well-being. As soon as you’ve taken a second Force Ghost, your mind begins to fragment.

“I began to notice problems after I had enslaved the second Force Ghost, but it wasn’t until I had taken control of the Forth Force Ghost in my search for greater power to defeat my enemy, Darth Thanaton, that I found myself in imminent danger of losing control of my own body and possibly ceasing to exist. Meanwhile, my body became the play thing of those four Sith lords I had bound to my existence.

“Nevertheless, I struck at Thanaton and nearly destroyed him, except that the extreme power flowing through me had caused extensive damage to my own body, and I passed out. At the time, my servants told me that I was out of control, babbling nonsense while Thanaton, greatly wounded, made his escape.

“When I had returned to my senses and regained conscious control of my body, I found my body ravaged and burned by the torrents of raw power which flowed out of it. It was then that I also learned, through my servants, that I had developed multiple identities as each of the Force Ghosts attempted to take control of my body.

“After learning of the existence of the Rakata machine on Belsavis, I made contact with the surviving Rakata, asking them to heal my body. The Rakata were quite willing to aid me. In return, I allowed them to study the results of the repairs made to me, allowing them to take genetic samples. It was quite a good trade for them and for me.

“Going to Belsavis and accessing this machine allowed for my body to be remade at the genetic level and repaired at the cellular level. My mind was reconstituted, reinforced, and its capacity increased, allowing it to properly absorb the memories and considerable knowledge of the four Sith lords I had enslaved, but that came at the cost of permanently changing my personality. My former self is gone.

“Darth Virulous, I don’t expect that you will encounter these problems, as long as you only subsume one Force Ghost, but these are things you must still take into consideration,” Nox said in warning to his apprentice, adding, “If you do this, you will gain great power, but you must risk changing, to some degree, who you are.”

Nox fell silent, waiting for his apprentice’s reply.

“Dark Lord, you have taken great risks to gain power so that you could attain your goals. I will follow your example. I want greater power so that I too can achieve my own goals, while propelling you to the Imperial throne. Teach me what I need to know, Master,” Virulous said, hiding her true feelings and doubts from her master.

Darth Virulous decided that she would get to the bottom of all of this. If her master was lying to her again, she determined that she would leave his service, and carve her own place among the Sith.

“I am not a pawn to be sacrificed!” she declared to herself, remembering what Nox had told Marr about needing a weak pawn to sacrifice. “Even if I must kill him to be free,” Virulous vowed to herself, “I will be free!”

“Go rest yourself, Darth Virulous. When I am ready to begin your training, I shall need you fully rested and capable of exerting a very great effort,” Nox told his apprentice, “You are dismissed.”

“Thank you, Master,” she said, perfectly masking her feelings and her thoughts.

Virulous rose from her seat in front of his desk. She bowed slightly at her waist and dipped her head towards her lord. Then turning about, she stepped briskly from Darth Nox’s desk, making her way across his prized brilliant yellow and deep black rug in his opulent spacious office.

“Who actually needs an office this large?” she asked herself, incredulous, as she passed through the office door which hissed shut behind her.

_____________________________________________________________________________________​

Virulous navigated the labyrinthine corridors and office suites as she made her way to a bank of turbolifts. After a long wait, she entered the turbolift, grateful that it wasn’t full. There were still a few seats at the sides of the car available. She made her way to an empty seat, and as she sat, the officers seated on either side of her hurriedly got up from their seats, to give Darth Nox’s deadly enforcer her space.

The ride up from Nox’s floor took several long minutes for a total of six hundred thirty two stories over the span of twenty four minutes, including wait times for the lifts to arrive. The first lift she entered, on Nox’s floor, was an express lift which stopped every fifty stories. So it only made twelve stops on its way up. Virulous had to switch to a local service turbolift to go up the remaining thirty two stories to her destination floor. It was a long commute within the building.

Exiting the local service turbolift, she made her way through another series of corridors and office suites until she finally arrived to one of thirteen shopping centers located in the gargantuan edifice. One shopping center was located roughly every hundred stories, for the thirteen hundred story tall building. There weren’t any shopping centers in any of the nine hundred sub-levels below the ground floor.

This particular shopping center was conveniently located on the three hundred and thirty second story of the gargantuan building, and was for the exclusive use of Imperial officers, who worked in the Imperial military headquarters, ranked general marshal, grand admiral, and moff. Ordinary generals and admirals were not permitted access.

The headquarters was an enormous military bureaucracy that took up four hundred floors from the two hundredth story to the six hundredth story of The Citadel. As long as they had offices and worked in The Citadel, the only others permitted in this shopping center were lords of Sith and darths, irrespective of which sphere of influence they worked for. Also a very small handful of very powerful politically connected non-Sith civilians were also permitted, providing they, too, worked in and had offices in the gigantic building.

Virulous didn’t have an office in The Citadel, but she was well known as the enforcer who, at the direction of Darth Nox, singlehandedly wiped Acina’s followers within her domain, the Sphere of Technology, within The Citadel. She’d also slaughtered a few dozen Imperial soldiers who’d been providing security within that domain. She spent enough time going in and out of Nox’s office, that the building administrators decided not to look too closely at Virulous’ qualifications for access to this very exclusive shopping center.

At the shopping center was a members’ only gymnasium for the use of this very exclusive class of very high ranking individuals who worked in The Citadel. Virulous went to the women’s locker room, making a beeline to her rented locker.

There, she changed out of her Sith armor and robes and packed them, and her sabrestaff, into a large gym bag, which she pulled out from her locker along with a change of clothes. Virulous changed into common civilian attire, concealing her chromium plated lightsaber under her windbreaker.

After giving herself a good look at her holographically projected image, to be sure she looked presentable and to be sure that her face was adequately hidden beneath her wide brimmed floppy hat, she proceeded to leave the gym.

On her way out of the gymnasium, she stopped at the members’ customer service kiosk and checked with the droid to make sure her membership was paid up to date, and that she wouldn’t lose her locker. Satisfied that all was in order, Virulous made her way out of the maze that was The Citadel, traveling three hundred and thirty two stories down to the main level and then through the cavernous lobby to the expansive taxiport outside.

The sky was dark, but the stars were not visible through the powerful lights illuminating the taxiport. However, she wasn’t thinking about starry night skies. Virulous was trying to hide the fact that she was a powerful Sith lord, apprentice to Darth Nox, Dark Lord of The Sith, and potentially the next emperor of the Sith Empire. She was deeply ashamed, however, because she was so poor that she made her home among common Imperials in a rental flat.

She got in line, trying to blend in with the others, which she seemed to have carried out well. Her large floppy hat seemed to do its job of hiding her hair and obscuring her face. She fervently hoped, however, that no one would notice how short she was.

When word had gotten out that it was she who had slaughtered Acina’s people in The Citadel, and who had ravaged the Exchange Gang on Tatooine, she became famous for being the tiny package of death and carnage unleashed on the galaxy by Darth Nox.

Virulous had managed to recover her expenses, and earned quite a large sum more with the reward money she’d earned from an Exchange Gang thug who’d paid her a bounty for each of his rivals that she’d killed while she exacted Darth Nox’s wrath on Tatooine.

It was because of this blood money that she was living comfortably, anonymously, among the common Imperials, but she knew that it would be a terrible humiliation for her master if it were discovered that she could not afford to live the opulent life style of lords of Sith and of the darths who were her peers.

It was finally her turn to approach the taxi kiosk. She shook her head in derision at herself.

“I can’t even afford to own and maintain my own speeder, not even a used one!” she thought bitterly. Parking, licensing, and insurance was very costly in Kaas City.

“Welcome, traveler,” the droid at the kiosk said, addressing Virulous, “What is your destination?”

Months before she was ordered to Tatooine by her master, when she had first leased her flat and had gotten in line for the first time at a taxi kiosk wearing her disguise, the droid recognized who she was and addressed her appropriately.

“Welcome, my lord. Where do you wish to travel?”

Virulous had become startled, worried that her cover would be broken.

She whispered harshly at the droid, “If I am wearing commoners’ clothing, then I am attempting to hide my identity! Address me as any anonymous common traveler!”

This evening, the late night breeze was cool and light, but the humidity had offset what comfort the breeze might have offered as she told the taxi kiosk droid her destination, speaking tersely and keeping her voice low.

“Northern residential sector, block two hundred twenty, building four.”

She didn’t want the other commuters knowing where she was going.

“That will be a mere forty four credits, Traveler,” the kiosk droid said, cheerily. “Will you pay now, or do you wish to be billed?”

Virulous presented her credit card.

The kiosk droid waved a datapad over her card then told her, “Please board taxi twelve thousand two hundred ninety two, at boarding station six, Traveler. Have a pleasant trip.”

Virulous walked to the passenger loading station with a huge number six stenciled in white onto the metal plated deck painted with dark grey textured slip resistant paint. As soon as she boarded the taxi droid, it immediately departed, leaving the massive taxiport behind and entering the local traffic stream.

For the next forty minutes the taxi droid seemed to follow an invisible road high in the air, one hundred and twenty stories up. The road could only be defined by the seemingly endless train of speeders of every make, model, and type as they flew between blocks of neighboring precincts, defining major thoroughfares.

Smaller streams of speeders occasionally split off from the major streams of traffic, meandering into the precincts, descending lower and lower between the towering spires as they transitioned to the slower local traffic patterns.

The streaming flows of traffic became increasingly sparsely populated with speeders each time Virulous’ taxi droid split off for an ever smaller side traffic lane until her conveyance finally began to descend to the surface below and came to a stop in front of building four which was part of a block of eight buildings.

After the long ride, Virulous debarked from her taxi droid feeling a little stiff. So she did a few stretches as the taxi gently lifted off and made its way to a residential tower not very far from her residence, having been dispatched to its next fare. After her short stretch, Virulous walked briskly down the long covered walkway to the entrance of her residential tower. Passing through the always opened doors, she entered the grand lobby.

The anonymous Sith lord lived at the northern edge of Kaas City, only a few blocks from the wall which kept the wild jungles and beasts of Dromund Kaas out of the city. As Virulous walked past a long oval concierge counter in the center of the lobby, she was greeted by one of several concierge droids.

“Good night, Mistress Lunn, welcome home. Two packages have arrived for you. Shall I bring them to you here, or shall I have them sent to your apartment?”

“Deliver them to my flat without delay,” the anonymous Sith lord said, as she swept past the droid, making her way towards the bank of turbolifts furthest away in the lobby to her left.

As she neared the bank of turbolifts, one of them opened and a group of residents exited, obviously on their way out to a night on the town. Virulous hopped in, feeling lucky that she didn’t have to wait forever for the lift. She was also very glad that the chittering voices of the party goers were cut off when the doors slid shut. Their incessant prattle had instantly begun to grate on her nerves.

The turbolift opened up and she exited on the sixty seventh floor, where she finally made her way the last few meters to her apartment. At the door, she entered a six digit combination code onto the screen interface of the security system. A small panel slid open and she slid her hand into the opening. Upon verifying her hand print and her DNA signature, the apartment door slid open and she walked in. The panel and the door both slid shut and locked upon her entrance.

Virulous set her large gym bag down on the floor of her vestibule and removed her floppy hat and loose fitting windbreaker, hanging them on hooks on the wall near the apartment door. She then sat on a small stool in the vestibule and removed her casual walking shoes, replacing them with fuzzy slippers.

She made her way to the utility and laundry room with her gym bag, setting it down. Opening the bag, she proceeded to remove her armor, thermal underlining suit, boots, and robes from the bag, placing them in her valet and getting her laundry started. She then picked up a green plasticine watering can and filled it with water from the utility sink. Virulous then went about watering her houseplants, all native species of Dromund Kaas.

She had to throw out the houseplants she previously had, after returning from Makeb when her mission there with Darth Nox was completed. They had all withered away and died from a lack of water while she was gone. She had spent several days dusting down her place, too. It was a hassle-filled homecoming that she did not appreciate.

Virulous knew that this batch of plants was destined to die, as well. Eventually, her master was going to send her off somewhere into the wide open galaxy to do who knew what to further his agenda. She thought about getting a household protocol droid.

“If I had a droid, I wouldn’t have to worry about my plants dying, or about keeping the place clean while I was away,” she thought.

Despite how ubiquitous humanoid protocol droids were, they were extraordinarily expensive. Most humanoid droids were owned by government agencies, or large corporations. They were considered luxury items when privately owned.

The wealthy would sometimes take a protocol droid with them everywhere they went, during business deals, or while shopping for expensive gifts. As a symbol of wealth, humanoid protocol droids were better than jewelry – which might be cheaply manufactured with synthetic gems. A well maintained humanoid protocol droid, however, displayed the showoff’s substantial wealth. Getting such a droid was costly, and properly maintaining a humanoid protocol droid was not cheap, either.

Incredibly, a well maintained used humanoid protocol droid was sometimes even more expensive, because it had learned a great deal and had gained a lot of experience in dealing with sentient beings (humans and aliens). Indeed, after many years of learned behavior, these droids had the ability to proactively carry out daily routines without needing its owner to tell it every little thing.

These droids even learned the ability to anticipate the need to carry out tasks that weren’t part of its routine, even to the point of anticipating its owner’s needs when confronted with a set of circumstances that required independent decision making. In that respect, 2V-R8 was worth sixty to seventy million credits.

This was not to say that one couldn’t find a humanoid protocol droid for a cheap price. The buyer simply had to accept any bugs, defects, and other problems with the droid which was the cause for such a cheap price to start with. For example, a droid with a glitchy positronic brain, causing it to to reboot and self-wipe its memory. A droid like that could be obtained for as little as twenty thousand credits.

However, Virulous was not prepared to accept such a defect from a droid no matter how good the price was. What good would it do to have a droid that forgot to water the plants and keep the place dust free while she was gone for an extended period?

Despite the potential expense, Virulous convinced herself that she really needed one to maintain her apartment while she was away on long missions. However, the more she thought about it the more she realized she lacked the connections to get favors for getting one as inexpensively and as defect free as possible.

At that moment Andronikos’ smirking facade flashed across her mind.

Virulous watered the last of her houseplants. In the utility room, she emptied the remaining water from the watering can into the sink and left the can on the floor next to the sink. Then she removed her sabrestaff from the gym bag and made her way to her spacious bedroom. One corner of her bedchamber was made up of two, very wide, floor-to-ceiling windows joined at ninety degrees, and at that corner was a very small writing table where she sat to look out at the panoramic view.

Virulous set her sabrestaff on the floor, leaning it upright against the small desk, where the corner of the desk made contact with the permaglass window on her left. Then, taking her smooth, chromium plated lightsaber, clipped horizontally at the small of her back on her conceal carry utility belt, she set it on the desk top. She also took her holo-transceiver from the holder on the right side of her conceal carry utility belt and set that on the small desk in front of where she sat. Virulous stared at the device, hesitating to make the call.

After wavering for a time, she finally dialed the pirate’s holo-frequency. A still image of a happily smiling Andronikos Revel came up with a prerecorded message. Virulous was taken aback by the image the pirate had chosen for his avatar, laughing merrily at what she saw.

“That happy smiling man is NOT Andronikos!” she thought, greatly amused.

“I can’t take your call right now,” the prerecorded message said, “I’m in the middle of something. Leave a message and I’ll get back to you.”

Virulous sighed heavily in disappointment and disconnected the call. She looked out the window from her sixty seventh story apartment, absently taking in the view of the city. The buildings across the very wide boulevard were as far as her vista of the city went.

Even if she could afford an apartment on the one hundred and twentieth floor of her building, her view of The Citadel, southeast of her neighborhood, would still have been blocked by the buildings, across the wide boulevard, which were fifty to seventy stories taller than her building.

Virulous leaned towards her left a little and looked down through her window at the speeder traffic below. The speeders traveled to her right at the thirtieth story and to her left at the twentieth story. Traffic was lively. Much of it, at this hour, was made up of revelers on their way to private parties, or to dance clubs scattered throughout the city.

Her holo-transceiver emitted a pleasant chime. She looked down at it to see who was calling. It was Andronikos’ caller ID, but it was audio only.

“Are you still on Dromund Kaas?” she asked the semi-retired pirate.

“Yeah. We got work? Is the boss calling for us? He usually calls me direct when he wants something.”

Virulous was slightly annoyed that she was getting only his audio, but she put that to the side and got to the point of what she wanted to say.

“I want to meet with you tomorrow to talk to you about something I need,” Virulous told him, then asked, “Is a meeting possible?”

“Who’s that woman, Andronie?” a sultry woman’s voice asked.

“I told you to keep your lips shut while I made this call. Now, can it,” was Andronikos’ sharp rebuke.

“Is it business? Is it for you exclusively, or is it for the boss?” the semi-retired pirate asked the Sith lord.

She didn’t know why she should feel irritated at hearing the woman’s voice, but she was. Again, Virulous put that to the side and got to the point.

“It’s not business, and it’s for my own personal reasons,” she said, adding quickly lest he got the wrong idea, “and it isn’t a social call, either.”

“Let’s meet for lunch, then,” Andronikos proffered, “I’ll pick you up at your place. Or did you want to meet somewhere instead?”

“We’ll meet somewhere,” Virulous said quickly, asking herself in alarm, “How does he know where I live?! Does he know where I live?”

“Where do you wanna meet?” he asked.

She realized she only knew places military officers frequented.

“You pick a place,” she said.

“Graggo’s Eats. They make the best pulled porg sandwiches,” he said, adding, “Be there midday.”

“Graggo’s Eats,” Virulous repeated, “at noonday.”

“See ya tomorrow, then,” Andronikos cut the connection.

Virulous looked at the chronometer on her desk and decided she wasn’t sleepy despite the hour. She got up from her desk and began to strip out of her clothes until she was completely naked. She then put on a set of sports briefs and bra. Exiting her bedroom, she used The Force to clear the furnishings and the rug from the center of her living room and set them to the side.

Then, reaching for her durasteel rod, the length of an activated sabrestaff, the heavy rod floated its way to her hand. Upon grasping the training aid, she began her workout routine, practicing various sabrestaff combat stances, swings, spins, thrusts, and other martial arts techniques. Virulous did this until she had worked up a good sweat and was winded from the physical exertions.

Using The Force, she returned her durasteel rod to its place and returned her rug and furnishings to their places in the living room.

She undressed, and then hit the fresher for an efficient but thorough shower. After drying off, Virulous got into her bed clothes, climbed into her bed and, shortly thereafter, fell to sleep.

Before drifting off to sleep, she had an idle thought.

“What kind of female company does that pirate keep?”

Her idle thought was followed by a not so idle one.

“How can I make the dark lord’s death look like an accident?” she asked herself, but just before drifting off, she told herself, “No one will ever believe it was an accident.”

 

Chapter Four: What Are Friends For?​

Virulous slept in, getting up at the ninth hour of the morning. She took a quick shower and dressed in casual attire. Virulous still had some time to kill before she had to get going, so she took the opportunity to take care of household business, paying utility bills, compiling her shopping list; she was running low on household cleaning supplies. After a time, she looked at her wall chronometer and saw that it was the eleventh hour. She sat at her desk and started up her computer.

“Graggo’s Eats,” she said.

A map display came up marking sixteen locations scattered throughout Kaas City, with hundreds more listed all over the planet. Virulous took in a deep breath and let out a heavy sigh. Then she dialed Andronikos’ frequency.

Andronikos’ holographic image came up, and he spoke.

“I’m almost to your driveway. I’ll be waiting in my speeder. Come on down.”

“How did you know…” she started to ask the pirate, but was cut off.

“I’ll tell you when you get down here. Let’s not talk on holo for now,” Andronikos said, cutting the connection.

Virulous became steamed at Andronikos’ curt attitude with her.

“I’m really going to let him have a piece of my mind!” she vowed to herself.

Virulous reached the ground floor, and made her way through the lobby of her residential tower. In the driveway were several speeders, including a few taxi droids. A very, very expensive, candy red exotic sports speeder shot right to where she stood.

The passenger side scissor door immediately swung up and Andronikos, wearing stylish sunshades and a black Corellian leather jacket and matching black Corellian leather pants, waived her in, speaking tersely.

“Get in.”

Virulous became outraged, and was about to let him have an earful, but Andronikos brusquely cut her off.

“Get in! We don’t have all day.”

Virulous then noticed that he was constantly checking the mirrors, and looking around. That’s when she realized that his voice sounded strained. As she got into the sports speeder, she also noticed that he was shirtless underneath his jacket, sporting two thick gold chains around his neck and draped over his chest.

As she pulled her leg into the speeder and settled into her seat, the door immediately began to swing down, and Andronikos threw the vehicle into a near vertical turning climb, rocketing into the traffic lane of the boulevard in front of her block of buildings.

She immediately searched for and found the seat safety passenger restraining field switch and activated it.

“You’re driving like a spice-ridden madman!” she complained, “What’s the rush?! It’s not like we’re late for formation!”

Andronikos gave her a funny look, and as Virulous prepared to explain what formation was, she got another look at his shirtless body and saw that the musculature of his chest and abdomen were well defined. Virulous realized that she was starting to stare and quickly turned her flushed face forward when the pirate spoke.

“I haven’t had to worry about being late for formation in a lot of years,” he told her, wearing an ironic grin.

His remark reminded her that he used to be a soldier. She turned to look at him again, making a point to look at his face as she listened, but she had to fight her wandering eyes, jerking them back up to his profile as he faced forward, piloting the exotic sports speeder.

Andronikos was an officer in the Galactic Republic Navy. Every morning, precisely at the seventh hour of the morning, he inspected his troops in formation. Those who were late showing up for formation were given unpleasant tasks to perform throughout the remainder of the day, cleaning the freshers, picking up deathstick butts, painting the decorative landscape rocks with whitewash paint.

One day, during formation, he had an epiphany. He realized that he really hated military life. After careful planning and careful recruitment of coconspirators, he staged one of the most spectacular and violent mutinies in Galactic Republic Naval history.

Virulous had heard that he’d deserted, but she didn’t know the details and wanted to ask him about it. However, Andronikos immediately got to business, peppering her with questions of his own.

“You got that holo-transceiver you called me with, last night?” he asked, emphasizing, “You got it on you now?”

“Yes, but…,” she started to say but was cut off again.

“Give it here. Let me have it.”

“What? Why? Who are you planning to call on it?”

“Let me have your damned transceiver! We ain’t got all day!” he snapped at the Sith lord. Realizing his mistake, he added, “It’s not safe.”

Virulous finally realized that something was very wrong, explaining Andronikos’ urgent, bizarre and, not to mention, very rude behavior.

“That better be the reason he’s acting like bantha poo, or I’m really going to let him have it!” she promised herself, as she handed him her transceiver.

Andronikos spoke a command.

“Autopilot, Graggo’s Eats, on The Hill,” the pirate said, taking his hands off of the controls.

He then produced a device from an inside pocket of his jacket and activating the device, mashed it against the Sith lord’s transceiver. He flipped her transceiver over and mashed it against his device again. When he was done, he opened the driver’s side window and tossed her communicator out of it.

“Hey!” Virulous objected, “Why did you…?!”

“Where did you get that transceiver?” Andronikos interrupted.

“I’ve had it for years,” she replied.

Andronikos became incredulous, blurting his amazement, “Years?! Really?!” Then he asked, “Did you do anything to it, recently?”

“I had it serviced, because it started to drop calls,” she said.

“Where’d you have it serviced?” he asked.

“It was issued to me when I used to be an officer in the Imperial Reclamation Service. I just kept it when I got out,” she said, then demanded to know, “What did you do to it with that thing, and why did you throw it out the window?!”

Virulous already had a bad feeling about what Andronikos was going to give as an answer, but instead he asked another question.

“Have you ever called me from that device before?”

“Yes,” she said, becoming greatly annoyed that he hadn’t answered her questions.

“Where and when did you get it serviced?” he asked again.

“A few days ago at the Imperial Army 3877th Communications Regiment in The Citadel,” Virulous replied, with annoyance starting to edge her tone.

Andronikos had on a look of “Uh oh, we’re in trouble,” plastered on his face. He asked, with a look of mild dread on his features, “Have you talked to the boss with it since it’s been serviced?”

“Yes,” she said, with a cold sinking feeling in her gut.

Andronikos shook his head slowly at the Sith lord with a pained expression.

“You better let the boss know. Whatever you and he talked about got spied on by somebody. Somebody with enough pull to make the Imperial Army rig your transceiver is after information on the boss, and they’re trying to get it through you.”

“We cannot tell the dark lord about this!” Virulous protested, fear starting to gnaw at the growing knot of worry in her stomach.

“The boss has to know about this,” Andronikos firmly countered, explaining, “All of your stuff, and all of his stuff has to be checked out for spytech.” He added, as though thinking aloud, “I better let Khem know, too. He’s got to start security sweeps of everything. Hell, I better have my own crap checked out, too.”

By this time, Virulous’ stomach was in more knots than her fear could gnaw on by itself, so it invited panic to join it for the worry feast. She realized this meant that her master was going to learn about her squalid living conditions.

“The dark lord cannot know that I live in that dump!” she declared.

Andronikos did a double take of his guest in the passenger seat beside him.

“Dump?” he asked, incredulous, adding, “That place is pretty high class. What are you talking about?”

“It’s high class for commoners,” she replied, trying to justify what she considered a dump, “but it’s nothing like what a Sith lord should be enjoying, especially an apprentice to a dark lord of the Sith.”

Virulous shook her head in frustration.

“What is she blowing her money on?” Andronikos asked himself. Aloud he said, “I know plenty of Sith lords who live a lot more humbly than you do, and I don’t see them trying to hide it.”

“They are not apprentices of dark lords of Sith sitting on the Dark Council! I am!” Virulous stressed, explaining, “It’s a matter of perception.”

“Maybe you need to ask the boss for a raise,” Andronikos suggested.

Virulous turned to look at Andronikos as though he had an odd growth rapidly coming out from his forehead.

“Do you know whether Darth Xalek was on the dark lord’s payroll?” she asked, trying to sound casual about it and failing.

“The boss isn’t paying you?” Andronikos asked, in quiet disbelief, “You’ve been working for free all this time?”

Virulous remained silent.

Andronikos did his best to hold back, but it was too much for him, a brief snorting chortle escaped his lips. He turned his face away, but it was too late. He let loose, laughing his ass off. Virulous turned to look out the passenger side window, feeling burned with embarrassment.

“I’d make fun of you,” Andronikos said, in a fit of laughter, “but then… but then… but then you’d probably kill me!” he said devolving into another round of raucous laughter. Then aloud to himself, “Oh, Stars! I’m such an idiot! When am I gonna learn to keep my mouth shut?!” he said, devolving into yet another round of raucous laughter.

Andronikos finally got a hold of himself, composing himself and wiping the tears of laughter from his eyes under his sunshades. He started to look out of the windows of the speeder and into the rear view mirrors, verifying their location and that no one was following them.

“We should be at Graggo’s place in ten more minutes,” he announced taking his datapad from another pocket on the inside of his jacket.

Virulous said nothing, continuing to stare out the passenger window.

“What was it you wanted to talk about?” he asked her, as a way of changing the subject.

Virulous turned from looking out the passenger side window and seriously regarded the pirate as he tapped away on his datapad, but kept silent. Andronikos immediately knew what was on her mind and, setting his datapad on his lap for a brief moment, set out to alleviate her concerns.

“No. I’m done laughing. I got my fill of laughing. Don’t sweat it. I ain’t gonna laugh no more. I swear it,” he said, most solemnly.

“I need a good deal on a humanoid protocol droid,” Virulous said, matter-of-factly.

“Really? That’s it?” Andronikos asked in mild surprise, “You just wanted my help to get a deal on a droid?”

After a moment to think, he became incredulous that this was all the Sith lord wanted of his considerable talents.

“Alright,” Andronikos said, nodding his head to hide his annoyance at having had his schedule disrupted over such a trivial matter. Then he asked, “D’ya need it for contract negotiations, stock market trade, communications and translations, finance management, a personal assistant, personal security?”

“I need one for housekeeping, watering my plants…,”Virulous began to say, but stopped.

She could see that he had entered into a monumental battle to keep from laughing, as his facade tightened to keep it from grinning, but it was a battle which he was quickly losing. He tried to hide his mouth with his hand as though he were thinking, but a solitary snicker finally escaped his lips and then his shoulders began to heave.

“I’m sorry!” he said laughing raucously again, and then promising as his laughter subsided, “I’ll treat you to lunch. Order anything you want. It’s on me.”

“After coming home from Makeb,” Virulous began to explain with considerable displeasure, “I found that all of my plants had died and the place was covered in dust.”

“You don’t have to tell me any of that. I was just over thinking things. I forget that sometimes people just want a droid to take care of the little things,” Andronikos said.

The luxury sports speeder exited the expressway traffic lanes, descending to ground level while entering a private traffic pattern just a meter above the ground as it slowed to a leisurely sixty five kilometers per hour, down from its expressway speed of two hundred and forty kilometers per hour. This allowed the passengers to admire the idyllic garden-like forest as they rode up the winding virtual road to the top of the hill.

The manicured forest park was located at the southwestern edge of Kaas City. The speeder slowed even more as it emerged from the well-tended forest-garden into a sprawling luxurious hilltop shopping center.

The hilltop shopping complex, with its famous shops, restaurants and bars, was a favorite of the city elite. Some of the more exclusive establishments had commanding views of Kaas City from their floor to ceiling windows.

At the distant city center, northeast of the The Hill Shopping Center, the enormous overpowering edifice known as The Citadel was the central focus of that fabulous view, which was much better at night when the towers of the city glittered with lights emanating from their countless windows in many different hues. At night, the city lights and lighted windows seemed like a galaxy of stars.

The exotic sports speeder pulled into a valet parking space in front of Graggo’s Eats, lowered itself until it was centimeters from the surface, and shut down. The two sat quietly in the stopped speeder for a moment. Andronikos was tapping away at his datapad, while Virulous passively looked on, uninterested in what he might be doing on his device. After a brief moment, Andronikos broke the silence, as he returned his datapad to the inside pocket of his jacket.

“Have you ever thought about just asking the boss for a droid?”

Virulous looked as though he were asking her to walk bare footed across hot coals – without using The Force!

“Just tell him you want one as a bonus for all the hard work you do for him. Tell him what you told me, and he’ll probably get you a top of the line model. He won’t mind,” the pirate promised, qualifying what he said, “I mean, be polite but firm. Politely firm. He’s not tight with his money. He likes spending it.”

“How can I ask the dark lord to gift me a droid when he doesn’t even pay me wages?” Virulous asked, bitterly.

“I got a feeling that’s probably an administrative error. The boss pays his people,” Andronikos assured her.

“I cannot face him and ask that he pay me almost two years of back wages!” she agonized, explaining, “He’ll laugh at me for being so weak, that I didn’t have the nerve to ask for wages to begin with.”

“Who says you gotta ask the boss?” Andronikos quipped, pointing out, “It’s an administrative error. Talk to his accountant and get it straightened out with him,” Andronikos said, reasonably.

Andronikos activated the exit system. The scissor doors swung up, allowing the pair to exit the speeder. As Andronikos walked around to the passenger side, the doors swung back down again sealing the passenger compartment tight.

With a flourish of his hand, Andronikos indicated for Virulous to proceed to the restaurant. When the two had walked past the luxury sports speeder, Andronikos picked up the conversation where he’d left off, and the speeder quietly started up and drove itself to the parking lot, to the parking space the valet parking space had told it to go.

“You’ll like Yannos. He’s a stand-up kind of guy. As soon as he knows that you’ve slipped through the cracks in his book keeping, he’ll straighten it all out.”

As Andronikos and Virulous entered the establishment, he removed his designer sunshades, folding it and sliding it into the breast pocket of his leather jacket. The two stopped just inside the door, and were greeted by the restaurant hostess. She guided them to a table by the almost invisible, floor to ceiling permaglass window, which offered an unparalleled view of the city from the hilltop restaurant.

Andronikos didn’t want to sit by the window. He looked around the dining area.

“We’ll sit over there,” he said, nodding towards a booth at one of the walls well away from the window.

Virulous became disappointed but said nothing, following Andronikos to the boring booth with no view. Andronikos seemed happy, though. He took out two small devices, setting them at the center of their table and making adjustments to them until he was satisfied. The restaurant had just opened for business, and they were the first to arrive, which was just fine with the pirate. For him it meant an advantage.

The two hungry diners opened the menus offered them by the hostess. Perusing the offered lunch fare, Virulous gave up, setting her menu down.

“Order something for me,” she demanded slightly exasperated, “I can’t make up my mind. Everything in the menu looks so delicious.”

“Do you want a heavy lunch or a light lunch, maybe something in the middle?” Andronikos asked.

“Something in the middle, I didn’t eat breakfast and now I’m starving,” she said matter-of-factly, “but I don’t want to feel bloated.”

“Can’t have that,” Andronikos said absently, “I hate it when I’m starving.” He tilted his head up from the menu, his eyes looking up to his right, adding deadpan, “Can’t say I care for feeling bloated, though. Full is nice, but bloated? No way.”

Virulous didn’t even crack a smile. She was too worried about what Nox would do when he found out that she allowed herself to be spied upon.

Andronikos set the menu down and waved at the hostess. She looked at one of the waiters standing at the side of the restaurant and nodded towards his table. The doors at the entrance slid open and another couple entered, laughing and chatting away. They followed the hostess to the table with the picturesque view.

Virulous’ expression soured and she asked, “Why couldn’t we sit at the window?”

“Because then they could snipe us from the outside,” Andronikos explained, “This way, I’m forcing them to come in after us.”

Virulous gave him a sardonic look. Plainly, she didn’t believe him, but after a second, she realized he was absolutely serious. The waiter arrived beside their table.

“What can I get for you today?” he asked smiling.

“I’ll have the roast traladon sandwich on a toasted Duros miner’s roll, with a side of traladon dipping juice, deep-fried panpa root chips and house salad with Alderaanian dressing. My lady friend will have the deep fried breaded prawna with a Corellian cabbage slaw, a bowl of ladda soup, with a side of Tatoo flat bread. Bring a carafe of Ziost blend caf – hot, not iced, and two heated caf mugs.”

“As always, Master Revel, your taste in cuisine and the company you keep is impeccable,” The waiter said, smiling. He was angling for a nice tip later.

“Nothing but the best will do,” Andronikos said, winking at Virulous.

The smiling waiter picked up the menus and turned to walk away to fulfill the order.

“I don’t like being lumped together with a bunch of food as a sign of someone’s good taste,” Virulous said, a bit steamed, and adding with some indignation, “and just how many women do you bring to this place?”

“I bring ‘em all here. What can I say? I like this place. But, yeah,” Andronikos agreed, “he was kind of dumb saying all of that, but I don’t want him spitting in my food or skimping on my portions because I called him on it and embarrassed him in front of a lady.”

“You could have said something to him discretely,” Virulous countered.

“You’re right,” Andronikos conceded with a hint of sarcasm, “I’ll tell him to apologize to Darth Virulous for comparing her to lunch, and lumping her together with my other lady friends,” he added, knowing how she would react.

“On second thought, never mind. Don’t say anything,” she said.

“If you say so,” Andronikos replied, without irony.

Changing the subject, Virulous asked, “Do you really think assassins will come after us, here?”

“I’m not saying there is definitely someone coming to kill us,” Andronikos clarified, “I’m just being careful, in case someone does come after us. I’m expecting intelligence types to come in to listen to us talk. Remember, I destroyed your transceiver after I told the auto pilot where to take us.”

A couple of men entered the restaurant dressed in business suits and carrying briefcases. They looked like business executives to Andronikos. The two were shown to a table at a wall on the opposite end of the dining establishment.

“How will you know which ones are the spies?” Virulous asked, eyeing the two men.

“I won’t know that,” he confessed, pointing at one of the two compact devices he’d set up on their table, adding, “That’s what this is for. It’ll take holographic images of everyone that comes in while we’re eating. I’ll hand it off to Keeper, and he’ll figure out who is who.”

“Who’s Keeper?” she asked.

“The boss’ personal spy chief,” he told her, and then asked, “You haven’t met him?”

She shook her head indicating that she hadn’t.

“Tall thin middle aged man,” Andronikos said, “male pattern baldness, always looks uptight about something. He’s a real stickler for rules, regulations. I think he was a general or something in the Imperial Army. He’s a real spooky guy. He pops up out of nowhere and disappears without a trace.

“I hired some guys to keep tabs on him, and he always gave them the slip. Then one day, out of the blue, the boss told me to stop sending people after him and to leave him alone. It made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. So, now I just leave him alone.”

“Why should that make you wary?” Virulous asked.

“Well, obviously, he told the boss about the guys I hired. These guys are professionals, with excellent backgrounds in investigations. Some of them are in the Imperial Army’s Military Police Investigations Unit.” Andronikos said, and then paused for dramatic effect before saying, “He never touched them, never talked to them. So, how did he know they were working for me?”

Virulous realized a very important detail and looking about the restaurant, worriedly, whispered, “Hey! Didn’t you say there might be some spies here, to spy on us? How could you talk about the dark lord’s spy chief, then?”

Andronikos gave a curious expression.

“Take a look around, Shahn. Try to listen in on the conversations at the other tables.”

Virulous immediately realized that she couldn’t hear any of their voices. When Andronikos saw the light go on in her eyes, he explained it to her.

“All of the tables and booths have noise cancellation systems set up under them. Plus, this little toy, here,” he pointed at the other tiny device set up on the table, “is a multi-frequency, multi-phasic sound scrambler. If anyone here tries to defeat the noise cancelers, they’ll only get a variable pitched screeching sound, and not anything that we’re saying.”

Virulous reflected that the times were precariously dangerous. Andronikos was clearly taking security very seriously. The Imperial throne was vacant, and her master was vying to fill that vacancy. That meant that nearly everyone around her was a potential enemy working for her master’s rivals.

“I’m not taking this seriously enough!” she thought, rebuking herself, “I’m going to get myself killed if I don’t start paying better attention to what is unfolding around me!”

“How did you figure out my transceiver was monitored?” she asked the pirate.

“I’m gonna set you up with a new one with special features that’ll let you know when you’re being spied on,” Andronikos said, as a way of answering, adding, “The boss needs to know, Shahn. The sooner you tell him the better it’ll be for his security, and the better for our own security, too.”

Virulous bristled on hearing her old name used so casually by the semi-retired pirate. She was going to say something about it to him, but realized it would seem silly, in light of the fact that she was working so hard to maintain her anonymity.

She wanted to remain anonymous which was why she was working so hard to hide who she was from her neighbors. She dressed in commoners’ clothes, because she was living in commoners’ housing. Now here she was eating in a commoners’ eatery with a commoner.

“Darth Nox will become very angry with me if he learns about the lifestyle I am living,” she reminded herself, shaking her head in self-reproach.

Andronikos watched her shake her head and incorrectly interpreted what it meant.

“Then you leave me no choice, Shahn. I’ll have to tell him,” he said gravely, his eyes judging her a coward.

“No!” she said emphatically, “I’ll tell him.”

It was bad enough that her master was going to learn of her humble lifestyle, but to have to have learned it from someone else would be even more shameful.

She shook her head again, telling the pirate, “The Imperial throne is vacant; our dark lord seeks to take it for himself; his enemies are looking for weaknesses which they can exploit, and I’m wandering around with my head in the clouds, worrying about my living conditions.” She sighed and added, “I’m such an idiot.”

Andronikos nodded his agreement, but said, “As long as you know your shortcomings and do something to fix ‘em, then you’ll be alright.”

“I’ve really come low, if I need consolation and encouragement from a pirate,” she said.

“You’re even getting tips on how to fix your pay problems and asking for help to get a housekeeping droid from a pirate. What is this galaxy coming to?” Andronikos said, with no irony in his tone, whatsoever.

Virulous was stung by his flip rejoinder and shook her head again, in self-disgust.

“What kind of Sith lord am I? Am I that weak?” she asked herself in self condemnation.

The waiter came back, out of the kitchen, with two hot mugs and a carafe of steaming hot Ziost blend caf. Ziost blend caf wasn’t actually from Ziost. It was a very strongly brewed caf with a bitter and slightly thick consistency in the Duros style. It was popularized among Imperial citizens on Ziost and spread from there, which was how it got its name within the Sith Empire.

The waiter was about to fill their mugs from the carafe, but Andronikos waived him off. As the waiter left their table again, Andronikos produced a device from within his jacket. He held it just over the liquid within the carafe and waited. A green indicator came on and he returned the device to the pocket inside of his jacket. He then picked up the carafe and poured some into both mugs until they were both a third filled.

“What if the mugs are poisoned,” Virulous asked, surmising that was what Andronikos was testing for.

“That’s why I asked for heated mugs,” Andronikos explained, “The mugs are heated in ovens to ninety six degrees Celsius. Toxins won’t behave well at those temperatures on solid, nonporous surfaces. It would be very easy to tell, if someone tried.”

Changing the subject, he said, “They really should use smaller mugs to drink this stuff from.”

It was his only critique of Graggo’s Eats.

“We’ll be lucky if we can finish two – one third mugs of this stuff,” he said in anticipation of drinking the very strong brew, “It’ll have us zinging off the walls by the time we’re done eating lunch.”

Several pairs of very chatty visitors entered all at once and lined up as the hostess greeted each pair and then quickly led each party to their tables, leaving menus at the tables with the guests. Virulous noticed that she could hear the waiters and hostess and the patrons when they first entered the restaurant but, once at their tables, their voices seemed to get sucked into some void. Virulous used The Force to sense for hatred or hostility, but she felt nothing of the sort coming from this crowd, nor from the patrons already seated.

The porter came out of the kitchen carrying a large tray with an array of dishes on it. He walked to their table and began to arrange their plates of food on to it, making sure the correct plates were set before the correct diner. He smiled, nodding at the two diners, in turn, and then walked back to the kitchen, holding the large tray under his arm.

Virulous reached for her fork, but Andronikos forestalled her.

“Hold on a bit,” he said.

He produced the same device from before from inside of his jacket, and held it over each plate getting a green light each time. This time, however, he pulled the black ventilated cap off from the end of it, and touched the white felt tip of the device to the clean surfaces of each plate.

When he was done with the scans, he smiled and said, “Let’s eat.”

Virulous picked up one of the deep fried, breaded prawna with her fork. She nibbled it.

“Mmmmm!” she said, most delighted, taking a bigger bite.

Meanwhile, Andronikos began with a careful sip of his very hot caf from his preheated mug before arming himself with the cutlery. He cut a piece of his traladon sandwich and used his fork to lift it and dip it into the dipping juice before transferring the dripping morsel of food into his mouth. He closed his eyes and nodded appreciatively as he chewed.

“Mmm…,” he said, happily.

They really know their way around good cuts of traladon,” he said after swallowing his first mouthful.

Andronikos took out his holo-transceiver and placed a call on it.

“Call; Yan,” the pirate said as he set the device onto the table next to his plate.

Andronikos chewed on a bite of a deep fried panpa chip as he cut another piece of his sandwich in preparation to soaking it in the dipping juice when a holographic image of a human male appeared above his device.

“Hey! If it isn’t my favorite career criminal giving me a call to con me out of something!” the man on holo said, laughing.

“Says the man who’s been skimming from the boss’ pot,” Andronikos shot back, smiling as he chewed.

Virulous raised an eyebrow on hearing that, as she sipped a spoonful of her ladda soup.

“Awe! Come on, Andro! You know jokes like that are off limits!” Yannos complained, having lost all traces of his good humor, “What did you call me for, to get me kil… fired?!”

“Alright, alright. I get it. It was cheap shot. I was just joking with you. Take it easy, will ya?”

“One of these days, Andro, your jokes are gonna have a very negative effect on my health.”

Virulous nodded her concurrence with Yannos, Nox’s chief accountant and money manager, as she bit into another deep fried breaded prawna.

“Look, I’m sorry. O.K., I got this bad habit of running my mouth. I even get myself into hot water from time to time. It’s a bad habit of mine. I’ll be more careful when I joke around with you, next time. Yeah?” Andronikos said, sounding genuinely conciliatory.

Virulous could only shake her head as she thought about all the times she’s wanted to really teach the pirate a lesson for running his mouth, but his apology to Yannos was so sincere, that she felt she ought to give him a little slack.

“Yeah, sure, Andro,” Yannos said, guardedly, waiting for Andronikos to drop the hammer on him.

“Say, Yan, I called because I wanna ask a couple of questions, and then maybe ask you for a favor,” Andronikos said as he bit into another pampa chip.

“I don’t know Andro. If I can help, I’ll be happy to do that favor, but don’t try asking for anything unrealistic,” Yannos said, waiting for Andronikos to strike.

“Hey! You know me! I’m the voice of reason,” Andronikos said, eliciting a laugh from Yannos and a smirk from Virulous.

“You remember Xalek?” the pirate asked.

“Yeah. Quiet guy. Very serious about everything. A shame that he died,” Yannos said.

“Yeah. Xalek was bit odd, but he was honest,” Andronikos, said, adding to Yannos’ description of the dead Sith lord. “I liked him. He stuck to business. Didn’t take things personally, most of the time.”

“Yeah,” Yannos agreed absently, as he wondered what Andronikos was getting at.

Virulous was waiting for the pirate to say it was her fault that Xalek had died.

“Virulous was there the day Xalek was killed in a battle with the Jedi. She got pounded that day, too. Those Jedi were no joke. The boss was broken up about Xalek, but he was impressed with Virulous,” Andronikos said.

“O.K., Andro. I get it. You wanna say that Xalek was a standup guy. Personally, all I ever saw in him was a cold, calculating killer who really worshiped the ground our employer walked on. Why don’t we save a little bit of time and you get to the point?”

“The point, Yannos, is that Xalek is still drawing a payday. Why is that?” the pirate asked, finally springing his ploy.

Yannos said nothing.

“Virulous was fuming about the boss not paying her for her work,” Andronikos continued, “She was gonna let him have a piece of her mind about not getting paid all this time,” Andronikos lied, “I was trying not to laugh at her. I asked her, ‘why’d you wait all this time to say something?’ You should have seen the look she gave me. I thought I’d finally done it and crossed the line with her.”

Andronikos was plainly having a good time putting Yannos on the spot, and poking fun at Virulous at the same time. Virulous was giving him the ‘I’m gonna destroy you’ look, as Andronikos liked calling it.

“Can you imagine what the boss would think of his chief accountant and money manager if he promised to look into it and found that Xalek was still getting paid?” Andronikos said, as though he were gossiping to a friend about the misdeeds of another friend, then he asked, “And what are you gonna tell the boss about Virulous’ pay going to another account that she didn’t know existed?”

Andronikos paused to see what Yannos would say. Yannos remained silent, while Virulous, who also remained silent, had plainly become livid, as she focused on the holographic image of that thieving Yannos.

“I think the boss would totally get the wrong idea about you, Yan,” Andronikos said, adding, “Lucky for you, I talked her out of talking to the boss. I told her I’d have a word with you and have it all fixed. I told her, ‘it has to be some kind of administrative error. Yannos is a good guy. He’ll fix it right up.’ So, she’s letting me handle it. Am I your friend, or what?!”

“Yeah, Adnro,” Yannos said, very tightly. “You’re a blasted good friend.”

Although his tone of voice indicated that he’d like to make Andronikos disappear, Yannos knew he couldn’t do anything to the murderously vicious pirate. Andronikos had him in a bind.

“What do you want?” Yannos asked brusquely.

“Let’s see,” Andronikos said, taking another sip from his mug of caf. “Xalek was making forty K…”

“Thirty five K,” Yannos corrected.

“Thirty five K per month,” Andronikos conceded. “He’s been dead, twenty two months, and Virulous hadn’t been paid since she started working for the boss about twenty three months ago. So, you owe her eight hundred and five K in back pay.”

“She’s owed five hundred seventy five K in back pay,” Yannos corrected, then clarified, “She was drawing twenty five K per month, Andro.”

Andronikos made a face as though he was scandalized at what he’d heard.

“Whoa, Yan! Darth Virulous is gonna get really steamed when she hears that she was drawing ten K per month less than Xalek. When she finds out that you were stealing her… I mean, that her pay was accidentally diverted to an account that isn’t hers…”

“Alright! She’s drawing thirty five K, same as Xalek!” Yannos surrendered.

“And she’s due for a raise,” Andronikos added, “so starting next month, she gets forty K per month.”

Virulous put her fork down with a look of utter astonishment at Andronikos, as it finally dawned on her that Yannos had been stealing from her master, from DARTH NOX, and that Andronikos was blackmailing him over it.

“The dark lord is going think that I’m mixed up with these two stealing from him!” she thought in silent panic.

“She’s getting the thirty five K. That’s already a ten K pay increase, and it’s back dated to her date of hire!” Yannos said frustratedly, adding officiously, “If she wants another pay increase, she needs to talk to the boss about a raise.”

“Awe! Come on, Yan! How are you gonna explain to the boss how Xalek’s been getting paid when he’s been dead all this time?” Andronikos asked reasonably, while making a veiled threat with his next question. “Is the boss gonna find out that Xalek’s financial accounts had all been closed, but his pay was being deposited to an account created after he died?

“If the boss finds out, then I know Virulous won’t get her pay raise – and neither will I,” Andronikos said, finally spelling out what he wanted in return for his silence.

“But how did Andronikos learn about all of this?!” Virulous asked herself, “If the dark lord asks me my part in this, I’ll just say that I was fixing a pay problem. Any theft is the work of this Yannos person and of this pirate!”

“You blasted gizka waste puddle….,” Yannos growled out at Andronikos.

“A five thousand a month pay increase isn’t that big a deal, Yan. You’ve been pocketing Xalek’s and Virulous’ pay all this time. Besides, you’re an accountant. I’m sure you’ll find creative ways to get Virulous and me our pay raises, and still keep skimming off the boss’ pot,” Andronikos said reasonably.

“Let’s go over this, so that we’re all clear about it,” Andronikos said, “Virulous gets eight hundred and five K lump sum back pay. Starting next month, Virulous gets a five K monthly pay increase, and effective immediately, I get my five K monthly pay increase. Finally, you get to figure out another way to skim off the boss.”

“That lump sum is gonna be awfully hard to cover up, Andronikos.”

“You know what just occurred to me, Yan?” Andronikos asked, as though it were an idle question, “What if the boss was looking into all of this and found out that Xalek and Virulous were actually drawing two paydays a month?”

“O.K., Andro. You win. I’ll do it like you said.”

“You’re the best, Yan!” Andronikos said, as if Yannos were doing him a great favor, “That’s what I really like about you; you really know how to lookout for your friends!”

“Blasted shining Stars, Andro!” Yannos replied, ruefully, shaking his head. “If only I had fewer friends like you!”

“Awe, come on, Yan. Don’t say that,” Andronikos said, as though his feelings were hurt, but he wore a huge predator’s grin, adding, “I could have gone straight to the boss and told him all about your pot skimming. Did I? No, I didn’t. I talked it over with you, instead. Right?”

“Yeah,” Yannos grudgingly admitted.

“Don’t that make us friends, Yan?”

“Not exactly the kind of friends I’d like to have, but I get your point, Andro.”

“I’ll have Virulous give you a call with her account details so that you can start sending her pay,” Andronikos said, before cutting the connection.

Andronikos looked up at Virulous, sitting across the table from him with that predator’s grin still on his face.

“You’re pay problem has been fixed. Now we find you a droid.”

“How did you find all of that information?” Virulous asked, shocked. “It’s not possible that you took a wild guess and got it right,” she said aloud, but to herself, “Unless you used The Force.”

Andronikos took on a quizzical expression as though he couldn’t understand how Virulous couldn’t figure it out. He pointed to his datapad on the table beside his holo-transceiver.

“I researched it. Well, I hired some slicers to steal his pass codes and stuff, I installed a backdoor admin account, so even if he changes his pass codes, I’ll know what those are. Anyway, I accessed his data bases a long time ago and figured out how he was skimming money from the boss. So, when you told me you weren’t getting paid, I logged into his databases and dug around until I found it.”

“Why haven’t you told the dark lord?” Virulous demanded, “He could ruin our master financially, and greatly weaken him in the eyes of his rivals and enemies on the Dark Council.”

“I’ve been keeping an eye on him. So, far everything he’s done has been small time. He hasn’t tried to do anything destructive, like that. If he tries it, I’ll know about it and activate a kill code that’ll lock him out of his accounts before he can hurt the boss, and then I’ll take him out,” Andronikos said.

At that moment, Virulous came to realize that it was Andronikos who was the greater threat to the dark lord, but she said nothing else. Instead, she took out her datapad, and a blank credit card. She transferred fifty thousand credits to the card and slid it to Andronikos.

Andronikos slid it back, not knowing how much was on it, telling her, “Hey, don’t sweat it. This one’s on me.”

Virulous slid the card back and speaking firmly told the pirate, “I do not want to owe you any favors. I do not want to be indebted to you. Take it. There’s no telling what you’ll demand I do to repay your favor.”

Andronikos developed a sour expression as he reluctantly took the credit card.

“You’re a lot smarter than Yannos. I’ll give you that, but my help never comes cheap,” the pirate said as he waived the credit card over his datapad. “I know what stuff is…. worth,” Andronikos’ sour expression and tone of voice changed, “and it looks like you know what stuff is worth, too.”

“Good,” Virulous said, sounding relieved, “I won’t have to tell the dark lord about his crooked accountant and that you’ve been blackmailing him instead of telling him about it.”

“I’m glad that you have a perfect understanding about that, Shahn,” the pirate said dryly.

Virulous had had enough. Bolting to her feet she pointed an angry finger at Andronikos.

“I am Darth Virulous, apprentice to Darth Nox, Dark Lord of The Sith! What do I have to do to get you to respect me as such?!”

Andronikos had never wanted to laugh so hard in his life. She was so short, that he hardly had to look up at her as she stood angrily pointing a finger at him from the other side of the dining table. He looked down at the table in front of him, so that he wouldn’t have to see the hilarity of it.

“You know what a clown I am,” Andronikos said, realizing how dangerously close he was to crossing the line with her, “I’m always disrespectful. I mean, I even call Darth Nox, ‘Boss.’ Don’t I?”

He reminded himself that she had nearly killed him at least once, and did everything she could to restrain herself from killing him on another occasion, while she cut off his air supply to make a point. Andronikos looked up again and saw anger and humiliation on her facade.

“I just remembered you saying, on the ship, how much you was gonna miss your old name,” Andronikos said, thinking fast, “So, I was using it just so that you could hear it again. I was trying to be nice this time.” Andronikos pointed at the device on the table, adding, “Remember, no one else can hear what we’re saying at our table.”

Virulous was reminded of this and looking around the restaurant, saw that a few of the patrons were idly looking at their table. Their lips were moving as they commented, but she could hear nothing. She resumed her seat. The women gave her sympathetic looks, and shifted their eyes towards Andronikos, revealing their disdain for the scoundrel.

It was obvious to the other diners, that Andronikos had said something to upset her and they thought of him as a cad, but they had no idea that she was a Sith lord seated amongst them. She realized that if they knew she were Sith, they would have quickly and quietly escaped the restaurant, not wanting to get caught up in a Sith lord’s wrath.

Virulous considered Andronikos’ position and after a moment to reflect told him what she thought.

“The dark lord permits your familiarity with him, because it suits his interests. What do you think his interests will be if he ascends the throne and becomes Emperor? Do you think Emperor Nox would permit you to call him ‘Boss’ anymore? Do you think he will allow you to enter his presence so freely and not kneel before him?

“At that time, he will demand more from you. Are you prepared to give him more? If not, where in the galaxy do you think you’ll be able to go to escape his reach?”

She could see that Andronikos’ eyes had changed, but there wasn’t fear in his eyes, only the twinkle of mischief.

“I already had that talk with the boss,” he told Virulous with a smug grin, “I convinced him he won’t need a small time criminal like me to do dirty jobs for him anymore. He’ll have the full capacity and all of the resources of Sith Intelligence, and the Imperial military at his command,” he said smiling, adding, “He’s gonna let me retire. All I’ll have to do is kneel at his feet and say, Darth Nox, Dark Lord and Emperor over all Sith and the Empire, and my Emperor in front of you, Khem and everybody.”

After watching an instant of disgust flash across her face, he asked Virulous, “What about you, Darth Virulous? What are your plans for retirement? Or are you gonna ask for his old seat on the Dark Council?”

“The dark lord may be plotting to kill me,” she said, darkly as she lifted another deep fried breaded prawna to her mouth and glumly took a bite. “I don’t know why. I’m loyal to him and obey his every command,” she said to Andronikos. Thinking about the Sith Code, she thought to herself, “I’m obedient because I’m weak. I don’t have the power to free myself.”

“I don’t know about all of that,” Andronikos said. “The boss seems to be taking a liking to you. Khem Val likes you, too.”

Virulous’ eyes bugged open on hearing that, asking with great incredulity, “Khem Val likes me?! Ha!” Then real mirth struck her, forcing real laughter out of her.

“You meant he’d like me for dinner!” she said, laughing at her own joke.

“Well, he hasn’t said anything about eating you in a good while, at least not to me,” Andronikos replied, smiling at her joke, “You can tell that he trusts you around the boss, too. He’s stopped shadowing you whenever you go talk to the boss,” Andronikos observed, qualifying his observations, “I don’t know. Maybe I’m just reading too much into it.”

“Do you like me?” Virulous asked, tempering her pointed question with a smile.

“Only when you’re not trying to kill me,” was Andronikos’ unhesitant and pointed reply, also delivered with a smile. Then he added, “Hey! Aren’t I having lunch with you, helping you with your pay problems and helping you get a droid? What are friends for?”

Virulous tipped her head towards the pirate seated across the table from her, smiling and masking what she thought.

“He just tried to bind me into his debt!” she thought. Aloud she repeated, “What are friends for?”

 

Chapter Five: Waking Nightmares​

The twisted shadows jumped at him. He leapt to the side to escape the fiends, but something was dragging at him, making his attempts to escape monumentally difficult. Yet the attacking twisted shadows could not reach him.

He drew and activated his lightsaber. The saber beam grew out bright red and hot. Ciiru Nomuro was shocked into deactivating it again. He tried to look at his weapon, but he couldn’t quite bring his weapon into view. When he’d finally managed to bring a part of the weapon into view, he couldn’t focus on it.

“Did I pick up the wrong hilt?” he asked himself, “How’d I do that?!”

“I’m giving you these weapons,” Emperor Vitiate said, “Take them and fight for me, or leave them unused and die.”

Ciiru looked up from the blurred and unidentified weapon in his hand to the Sith Emperor, but it wasn’t Vitiate. It was Darth Nox. The Sith lord activated his lightsaber, forcing Ciiru Nomuro to activate his own weapon, but the beam was bright red.

“Kneel before me and join my empire, Darth Incinerous!” the Sith lord commanded in Vitiate’s voice.

Ciiru found himself unable to resist. His body moved against his will until he was kneeling, and his head began to bend towards the Sith emperor. As his head dipped forward, he felt a quickly growing unyielding evil hatred growing within his heart.

The source of the evil hatred wasn’t from Nox or Vitiate, however. They were his own dark feelings from his own heart, which threatened to consume his existence. The Jedi Knight was falling to The Dark Side.

Ciiru Nomuro blinked his eyes and found himself seated at a lunch counter, staring at a sandwich he held in both hands. He looked to his left and found a stranger, busily slurping his soup from a spoon. Ciiru turned to his right and found no one seated there.

“You don’t like your sandwich?” the lunch counter waitress asked, “You’ve just been sitting there, staring at it like it did something to you.”

Ciiru set his sandwich down on its plate.

“Can you wrap it up for me? I’ve lost my appetite. I’ll eat it later,” the Jedi Knight said.

A short while later Ciiru walked to the speeder lot behind the diner and got into his assigned speeder. Setting the boxed meal on the passenger seat beside him, he grasped the control yoke.

“Tythosi Enclave Dormitory. Drive,” Ciiru ordered the auto-navigator, taking his hands from the yoke.

The speeder started up and gently drove itself out of the park lot and entered the traffic pattern, making its way to an offsite Jedi housing complex just at the edge of town in an area that was mostly parks and green spaces. The dormitory served as overflow housing for visiting Jedi.

Housing for Jedi instructors and padawan learners was to capacity on the temple grounds. Ciiru wasn’t an instructor at the temple, so he fell low on the priority list for housing at the Jedi Temple complex. Ciiru didn’t mind it, however, he found it kind of stuffy and stringent at the Temple and felt more at ease at the offsite housing complex.

Minalto, where the Tythosi Enclave Dormitory was located, was a midsized town situated several kilometers to the north of the mountain range which separated it from the Jedi Temple, in the next valley over, on the southern side of the mountains.

After a ten minute ride through various kinds of traffic, the speeder turned in to a parking structure and parked itself on the third level in the nearest available parking slot, which wasn’t near to anything at all, actually. Ciiru Nomuro grabbed his uneaten lunch from the seat beside his and made his way out of the three story structure.

In the beautifully manicured campus grounds, he walked to his dormitory, one of six three story buildings on the campus. Inside, he surrendered the speeder control key to the dormitory attendant at the service counter, returning the vehicle to the speeder pool. Then he walked to the middle of the hallway to a set of stairs and climbed up to the third level, where he walked to the end of the hall to the door of his dorm room. Inside, he set is lunch in the small food cooler and got to work attempting to contact Satele Shan.

“I’ve been having these nightmares. Please, call me.”

Ciiru got up from his desk and sat on the floor of his dorm room. Crossing his legs, he began a series of meditation exercises. The Jedi knight, however, was having trouble concentrating. The waking nightmare had disturbed him greatly.

The Jedi Knight couldn’t help himself. He had to check. Ciiru grasped his weapon and held it at arm’s length. He gave it a very hard look, to be sure it was his own weapon. Then he ignited it. The saber beam extended up, vertically, burning a bright and hot blue. After a moment, he deactivated his weapon and set it on the floor beside him. With that mental pebble out of his shoe, as it were, he was able to concentrate as he resumed his meditation exercises.

Ciiru was greatly disturbed by the very real evil and hatred that was in his heart. After some difficulty, the Jedi knight returned peace and balance to his mind. The nightmares were still greatly unsettling to him. Although his fear of Vitiate had diminished (Vitiate was definitely not taking up residency within the Jedi), Ciiru still worried that the remaining echoes of the Sith Emperor, which definitely took up a place in his mind, might warp his consciousness.

It puzzled him greatly however, that in his terrifying dreams he would hear Vitiate’s voice but see Nox instead.

He knew that when he told the Jedi Council of his horrible dreams that the Jedi Council would want to further restrict his movements. There was no doubt that even if Vitiate was not within the Jedi Knight, he was still under the former Sith Emperor’s influence.

Ciiru expected Jedi Masters Bela Kiwiiks or Gnost-Dural to caution against rushing his return to full duty. He knew that Master Gnost-Dural would also push for his continued sequestration on Tython. The final word was Satele Shan‘s, however, the Jedi Grand Master and head of the Jedi order. He had to convince the leader of the Jedi Council that it was his trial to endure, his ordeal to overcome.

Either he would defeat the sliver of Vitiate’s influence embedded in his mind and forever be free of the Sith Emperor’s reign of terror with those nightmares, or he would fall to the Dark Side and fall to madness and a tortured death. He had another thought that disturbed him greatly, because he believed Vitiate was capable of it.

“What if he’s implanted a seed of his soul into my being, and is gradually taking over my existence, my own mind and spirit transformed into a shade of Vitiate?”

The Jedi Knight pushed that thought away, determined not to let fear overcome him. He gave himself to peace as he went deeper into his meditation exercises.

“There is nothing left of Vitiate except his tormenting memory,” he breathed out to himself after taking a deep breath.

_____________________________________________________________________________________ ​

Ciiru Nomuro was a member of a strike team of sixteen very powerful Jedi that had gone to confront the Sith Emperor. Eight of the team had fallen, battling their way through the Sith Emperor’s attendant Sith lords, as the Jedi closed on the throne room in the Sith Emperor’s stealthed space station.

The remaining eight members of the strike team had finally reached the Emperor’s throne room. Vitiate was alone, seated on his throne. The Jedi carefully approached his dais as Jedi Master Tol Braga attempted to reason with the Sith Emperor.

“Hasn’t there been enough death? Haven’t your people suffered enough? End this needless war.”

The Sith Emperor slowly shook his head in disbelief, an ironic grin slowly spreading across his Dark Side corruption-scared face.

“You came all of this way, slaughtered your way through my guards, left a trail of bodies, killed my servants, violated the sanctity of my throne room with weapons ablaze, only to ask me politely to end the war, to end the death? And exactly how is this war needless? This war is providing me with the sustenance I need.”

The Jedi councilor kept silent, refusing to get into a battle of words with the ruler over all Sith.

“Whatever happened to simply sending an envoy to sue for peace?” Vitiate asked, mockery in his tone, “Didn’t that idea occur to you first? After all, isn’t the first tenet of the Jedi Order all about peace?”

Again, the Jedi remained silent, refusing to fall for his taunts.

The Sith Emperor leaned back in his throne and laughed darkly at what he took as complete comedy, a farce. After a moment, he stopped laughing and sat straighter in his throne, elevated high. His throne was perched on a short wide pedestal which sat at the top of a pyramid of wide steps.

Looking down from the dais straight at Master Tol Braga, his expression changed. He seemed troubled.

“Wait. Are you actually waiting for me to give you an answer?” Vitiate asked the Jedi Master, adding without irony, “I misunderstood. I thought you were just spewing empty bits of pious rhetoric. It was not my intent to be so rude. Please, allow me to correct my response. I must, out of proper decorum, give you a formal answer.”

Two Jedi fell dead where they stood, they failed to guard against the attack. A third Jedi collapsed. Although quick, she failed to guard herself sufficiently. The Jedi faded in and out of consciousness, with most of her life force already drained away. She would not survive.

Jedi Master Tol Braga and one of the Jedi knights acted, using The Force to attempt to stifle the Sith Emperor’s ability to use any more of his Dark Force techniques.

Meanwhile, Ciiru and two others leapt into the attack with their lightsabers blazing. Ciiru guarded his being as he launched into his attack, as did the other two at his side, but they were not as effective in guarding themselves.

All three Jedi were repulsed and went flying, tumbling through the air. They crashed onto the deck, tumbling, rolling and sliding across the black, polished metal surface.

Ciiru untangled himself from a heap on the deck, scrambling to his feet and rushed back into the attack. His two fellow attackers remained heaped on the deck. Both were already dead before they had hit the hard, polished metal floor.

Again, Ciiru leapt in the attack. Again, Vitiate acted to repel the Jedi using another Dark Force technique, but this time, the Jedi Knight didn’t go tumbling away. It was as if he’d crashed into an invisible wall and slid down it to the deck at the bottom of the dais.

Ciiru landed on his feet. Then exerting a great effort, using The Force, Ciiru inexorably made his way up the wide steps, pushing through Vitiate’s terrifyingly evil aura, resisting the urge to wretch, and fighting off the fear that was threatening to send him fleeing in a panic. With each painfully slow step he neared the throne at the top of the pyramidal dais where the Sith Emperor sat calmly on his throne.

“Hurry…, Ciiru!” Master Tol Braga growled out, clearly at his limit, “We can’t… hold him… much… longer!”

In this situation, Ciiru realized it was dangerous, but he needed a burst of power. He decided to rely on using lightsaber form VII, also known as Juyo. He gave himself to fury in a controlled manner in order to tap into some power from the Dark Side of The Force.

“You have done well, Jedi,” Emperor Vitiate said, speaking as though he were complimenting a young novice student. The emperor’s voice showed no strain from any effort, and he seemed quite relaxed, as he admitted, “You have managed to defeat this body, but you have not beaten me. In you, I have found a new host. I look forward to becoming acquainted with you soon.”

At that moment, Ciiru had finally made contact with the Sith Emperor, with great effort, slowly pushing the hot blue beam of his lightsaber into Emperor Vitiate’s chest. The Emperor laughed, as his soft clothing and his flesh flashed into flames where the saber beam pierced them. The ruler of the Sith Empire fell silent, slumped over on his throne, dead, his flesh still ablaze and emitting a vile stench. The terrible dark aura pouring from the Emperor was instantly gone, however.

Ciiru Nomuro, filled with utter fury, battled to regain control of his emotions. The Dark Side of The Force threatened to fully engulf him. A turbulent peace managed to return to Ciiru’s mind. Looking at the empty burning husk that was the emperor’s body, Ciiru used The Force to snuff out the flames before turning away from the dead body, still seated on his throne.

The victorious but exhausted Jedi Knight made his way down the wide steps to Master Tol Braga. Ciiru Nomuro found the Jedi Council member collapsed on the floor. Just before the emperor died, he ravaged Tol Braga and the Jedi beside him.

Greatly weakened, and with the last of his strength, Master Tol Braga strained to whisper, “That was not…,” he stopped to gasp for breath, then repeated, “That… was… not… hi…”

Master Tol Braga’s body relaxed, the remaining air hissed out of his lungs, and he died.

Ciiru turned to the other Jedi who’d been helping Tol Braga restrain Vitiate’s power, a female Nautolan, Vara Saan. She was unconscious, breathing erratically, murmuring nonsense; her arms and legs twitched and jerked involuntarily, as did her head tentacles. Ciiru picked her up and draped her twitching body over his pauldroned shoulder and proceeded to run, making his escape back to the hanger bay and to their starship.

A few weeks after the operation, Vara Saan, the Jedi whom Ciiru rescued, committed suicide. The Emperor, it seems, was literally living in her head and kept her in a perpetual state of horror filled torment.

Two months later, Ciiru Nomuro had been sent on a mission to an independent and politically neutral world called Makeb. He was there to negotiate terms with the Makebi government. The Galactic Republic wanted the Makebi government in exile to join their Republic.

In exchange for joining, the Republic would provide military protection from a resurgent imperial Hutt regime who had taken control of the planet as invading occupiers. The Galactic Republic would easily throw the Hutts off the planet, and the Makebi people would lose their neutrality and their independence, as they joined the Republic.

Just as the agreement was about to be formalized, something had drastically changed, and the Makebis decided against joining the Republic. It turned out the Sith Empire had secretly given them a much better offer.

The Sith Empire would provide all of the weapons the Makebis would need to form their own army, with training, low level leadership of small units, and high level tactical and strategic leadership guidance services provided by a division of Mandalorian mercenaries.

With this help, the Makebis could win back their own freedom, and in exchange, the Makebis would turn down membership in the Galactic Republic. It was the deal the Makebis wanted from the Republic, but couldn’t get. Ciiru discovered that it was Darth Nox who secretly led the effort to keep the Makebis from joining the Republic.

The Makebi people had won their freedom, thanks to the Sith Empire. However, it was later discovered that the planet was about to self-destruct. The people were doomed to annihilation. Supreme Chancellor Leontyne Saresh, leader of the Galactic Republic governing council, turned her back on the people, refusing to help them evacuate and dooming them to extinction.

However, Ciiru became convinced that The Force wanted Darth Nox to rescue the people of Makeb, and he had come to believe that somehow The Force had convinced Darth Nox to rescue the people. He witnessed Nox go from adamantly refusing, to suddenly changing his mind and rescuing the Makebis.

The price of their rescue was not going to be cheap, however. The Makebis would have to become subject to the austere and oppressive Imperial government as they colonized a planet for the glory of the empire. Initially, it was not known which planet the people would colonize.

Later, Ciiru Nomuro learned through some of his contacts in the Republic Strategic Information Service, the SIS, that the people had been taken to Taris, a ruined, toxic world. The people would be forced to live and work in terrible conditions to clean up the planet. It was a bad fate, but it could have been worse. The entire population could have all died when Makeb destroyed itself.

Ciiru believed that he’d witnessed The Force, the Light Side and the Dark Side, work in unison and in a smooth unified flow, making Ciiru question whether both the Jedi and the Sith were wrong about The Force. He’d been meditating on that question ever since that day on Makeb, but he was becoming more and more obsessed with the question.

“Is the Light Side of The Force and the Dark Side of The Force really one and the same? Is there really no Light or Dark, but only The Force? Then are we enacting the will of The Force? Don’t we have our own wills?”

He had yet to broach the question with the Jedi Council. He hadn’t told them of what had happened; what he’d done on Makeb which led Darth Nox to rescue the Makebis.

However, the alliance of the Galactic Republic and of the Jedi Order were faced with a very pressing matter. What if Vitiate directly attacked the allied powers in order to prove his power and his strength to the Dark Council in a bid to reestablish his claim to the throne?

The Jedi Order had finally learned what the Sith had known for the past fourteen centuries. That is that the Sith lord, Vitiate, had transcended corporeal life. Vitiate had become an incorporeal entity, and used voluntary and sacrificial force sensitive individuals to act as his mouthpieces and to act as his agents. If Vitiate hadn’t been destroyed, then he could strike back at any time at any world.

The leadership of the Galactic Republic and of the Jedi Order had also hoped that, with the defeat of the Sith Emperor, the power vacuum at the throne would drive the dark lords on the Dark Council to infighting for the right to claim the Imperial throne for themselves. They hoped for a divided Dark Council.

Thus, despite knowing what Ciiru Nomuro conveyed to them at his debriefing, after his battle against Vitiate, despite knowing that Vitiate was not dead. The Jedi Council, the SIS, and Supreme Chancellor Saresh decided to go forward with their announcement, declaring the Sith Emperor defeated.

Most of the galaxy interpreted the announcement to mean that Vitiate was dead, but those very few, who carefully broke down the language of the announcement, realized that either the Galactic Republic leadership and the Jedi Council were not sure, or were deliberately using misleading language to insinuate they’d won a victory while not admitting failure.

Certainly, the Dark Council’s silence on the matter seemed to confirm that something had happened, except that up to this point, none on the Dark Council had made a move for the throne. Leading some to believe that the Jedi did kill someone, but that they’d gotten the wrong Sith.

Meanwhile, the alliance of the Galactic Republic and of the Jedi Order had hoped that the joint announcement of their attack and victory over Vitiate would greatly embarrass the Dark Council. Perhaps it would be enough to cause a schism between the Dark Council and Vitiate, if he still ruled. It might even cause members of the Dark Council to vie for the throne despite knowing that Vitiate was not destroyed.

However, the schism never materialized. The division never took place. Unbeknownst to the Jedi Order and the SIS, a completely unexpected alliance between Darth Nox and Darth Marr had stabilized the balance of power on the Dark Council, and the dark lords all agreed to leave the throne empty, and to rule together without an emperor.

The terrible sacrifice of the Jedi had been in vain, and Ciiru wrestled with guilt for being too weak to quickly reach Vitiate and dispatch him. Ciiru also wrestled with his doubts about the wisdom of the Jedi Council.

Additionally, since their fruitless sacrifice in Vitiate’s throne room, Ciiru Nomuro had been having terrible nightmares, nightmares which drove him to question his Jedi faith. What he’d seen and experienced conflicted with his understanding of Jedi teachings.

Ciiru realized that the longer he wrestled with his doubts the greater his fear and uncertainty would become, making it more likely that he could descend into anger and hatred again. He believed strongly that it was possible for him to willingly fall to the Dark Side, and that his doubts over the Jedi Order, their teachings, and his fear of Vitiate would all drive him insane.

His recurring nightmares were proof of Vitiate’s strong influence. Early on, Ciiru feared that the Sith emperor had actually taken up residency somewhere within his being, but with much careful and deliberate meditation and self-examination, he came to believe that was not the case. He knew, however, that he was still vulnerable to the Dark Side of The Force.

With the knowledge they had gained, that is that Vitiate was incorporeal, the Jedi Council – and Ciiru Nomuro knew that someday they would need to confront Vitiate again, especially if he regained control of the throne over the Sith Empire.

In fact, because of their direct strike on the Imperial Throne, they began to make preparations to repel Imperial counter strikes against Coruscant, again.

_____________________________________________________________________________________​

A chime sounded, bringing Ciiru out of his meditations. He rose to his feet, walked to his desk, and as he answered the holo-transceiver, took a seat at his small desk.

“Jedi Grand Master Satele Shan, thank you for returning my call.”

“You are having nightmares? You look well. Are you well?” the grand master of all Jedi asked.

Laypeople, not familiar with the Jedi philosophies of peace and serenity, would not be aware that Jedi don’t get nightmares. They are able to use The Force, and techniques trained over many years to keep their minds at peace and at ease.

So, to the common citizen, hearing of a Jedi complaining of nightmares might not phase them, but to other Jedi, the matter of nightmares is a very serious issue. Nightmares are a symptom of Fear. Fear is the path to the Dark Side. Fear leads to anger. Anger leads to hate. Hate leads to suffering. Satele Shan knew that Ciiru was filled with Fear and had to address the problem.

“I am well, Jedi Grand Master. Vitiate’s influence over me has diminished greatly, compared to what it was in the beginning. The nightmares do not send me into fits of terror as they had in the beginning,” Ciiru said, and after a brief moment’s hesitation added, “Actually, Grand Master Satele, I know that, presently, their effect and influence over me is very small, but I can’t get rid of them altogether. I really believe that even though Vitiate is not residing within me, an echo of his presence remains, and that the echoes are the source of the nightmares.”

“How long have you had these nightmares, Knight Ciiru?” the Jedi Grand Master asked.

“Ever since our raid against Vitiate,” the knight replied.

“Please explain why you think they are echoes of his presence, Knight Ciiru,” Satele Shan said, in a neutral voice, peace and calm on her façade.

“The nightmares are always the same, but with certain variations,” Ciiru said, beginning his report, “Certain elements of the dreams will change, I believe, because my resistance to Vitiate’s influence varies, and Vitiate’s influence over me fluctuates.

“I believe my nightmarish dreams are an indication that even his echo can corrupt me. I believe his echo can create a shade of Vitiate within my mind, my thoughts, and that I would be driven mad by it. I must endure this conflict within me by greatly diminishing his influence over me. It will be my greatest trial, Grand Master Satele.”

“Tell me the dream,” Satele Shan instructed.

“I find myself attacked by endless swarms of dark twisting shapes, whose forms are never constant. The dark shapes constantly shift, and have no definite form. They always precede a Sith lord, Darth Nox.”

“Darth Nox? Darth Nox appears in your dream?” Satele asked, interrupting Ciiru.

For many years, Ciiru had been impressed with Satele’s steadfast unflappable calm. Nothing seemed to surprise her. Her face never betrayed anything she might be feeling, no matter how devastatingly unexpected a piece of news might be. Which was why Ciiru became amazed.

If it were anyone else, without personal knowledge of Satele Shan, that person would never have caught it. However, Ciiru Nomuro has had several meetings with the Jedi Grand Master over the years.

He’d seen many holographic videos of the Grand Master in conferences, giving lectures, and receiving reports. As a youth, he’d watched her, both in person and on holographic videos, before her rise to the post of Grand Master, and in all of those years he’d never seen her react so strongly to anything at all.

She was his ideal of calm and peace.

Not this time, however. She was definitely surprised by what he’d told her, surprised in a very bad way.

“Blast…” Ciiru thought, dejected, devastated.

He knew from the reaction, which flitted across her face for less than a thousandth of a moment, that she would definitely prohibit him from leaving Tython.

“Yes, Grand Master, it was Darth Nox,” he told her, swallowing back his frustration.

Satele’s holographic image seemed to be going over something in her mind. After a brief moment, she leaned back in her seat.

“Very well, Knight Ciiru, please continue.”

“Yes, Grand Master Satele,” Ciiru said, bowing his head and feeling the weight of his coming permanent detention on Tython.

Using all he knew of guarding one’s thoughts, he went on as best he could, as though nothing were amiss, “Darth Nox draws his light saber and orders me to kneel before him, but it’s Vitiate’s voice coming out of Nox’s lips,” Ciiru paused and swallowed back his worry. This would seal his fate one way or the other.

“He calls me Darth Incinerous, Grand Master,” Ciiru said, hiding his apprehension. “I immediately draw and activate my lightsaber. Sometimes the lightsaber beam is blue, sometimes it is red.”

“When the saber beam is red, I kneel before Darth Nox, and fall to the Dark Side. When it is blue, I defeat Nox, but he doesn’t really die, I don’t feel victorious. It’s more as though I had escaped and survived. The nightmare has never varied from those outcomes. The only thing that changes, and it is random, is whether the saber beam is red or blue, and whether I fall to the Dark Side, or I defeat Vitiate slash Nox.”

Ciiru Nomuro became silent, having completed the telling of his nightmare.

After a moment, during which both Jedi seemed to quietly contemplate what would happen next, Satele finally broke the silence.

“What do you think the dream is about, Knight Ciiru?” she asked, with her impenetrable mask of calm concealing everything that she might be thinking, feeling.

Ciiru thought it was a strange way to phrase a question. In fact, the question itself was strange.

“The nightmare is supposed to have a meaning, other than that Vitiate is tormenting me with them?” Aloud, he answered, “The fading echoes of Vitiate torment me with these nightmares. Actually, I had the nightmare while awake. Sitting at a lunch counter,” Ciiru said, then added, dejectedly, “It’s the first time that’s happened. These nightmares shall continue until I have banished Vitiate’s influence from my conscious and subconscious, once and for all. Or, I shall cease to exist as I fall to the Dark Side and am driven mad. My greatest trial lies ahead.” Ciiru said, finishing his thoughts on the matter.

He then fell silent and waited for Satele Shan’s pronouncement.

“The future is forever changing,” she said, as though disappointed with his answer, “We cannot know what your destiny will be. However, it is clear enough in this case to tell us that a defining moment is indeed coming for you, soon.”

“What a strange and vague answer,” Ciiru thought, “But whatever my fate will be, I now know that I can’t get out of it. Either I get rid of Vitiate’s influence, or I fall to the Dark Side.”

Knowing this could very well seal his fate of perpetual sequestration on Tython, he nevertheless felt compelled to tell her what else was on his mind.

“There’s something else, Grand Master,” Ciiru said, telling her, “When I kneel, and bow my head, in the dream, hatred and fury begins to fill my heart, and I begin my descent to the Dark Side of The Force, but it is not a dream. It is really happening.

“At that moment, I would force myself awake from my nightmare and then go into meditation to clear the anger and hatred from my heart. I feel the pull of the Dark Side weaken, and I return to peace.

“What am I to do, Grand Master?” he asked Satele, “I’m at a loss. I really don’t want to be confined to Tython. I must go out there,” he gestured vaguely towards the ceiling of his dormitory room, “to serve the Jedi Order, and to bring peace and justice to the masses of the Galactic Republic,” he told her, and thinking to himself, he added, “And I’m going stir crazy staying on this hopelessly quiet and boring planet!”

“How do you see those twisted shadows?” Satele asked out of nowhere.

“Grand Master Satele, I think they are the manifestations of the Dark Side of The Force, or of Vitiate’s dark and twisted influence over me.”

Satele Shan’s holographic image turned its head to one side as though thinking something over. Then her image closed its eyes, facing forward again, as though meditating. After a few minutes, her eyes opened again.

“You will wait for instructions,” Satele ordered, “I will give you an assignment which will see you off Tython.”

“Yes, Grand Master Satele Shan,” Ciiru was greatly surprised and greatly pleased on hearing that.

Before her image vanished, he called to her.

“Grand Master, one last thing.”

“Yes?”

“I want to thank you. You showed great wisdom, and exercised great patience with me on Makeb. Looking back, I think I could have fallen to the Dark Side. I could have been lost, but you got through my wall of rage, and talked me into returning to Tython. No matter what happens in the days ahead. I want you to know that I am deeply grateful to you.”

“Your destiny has not yet been decided, Knight Ciiru,” Satele told him.

Satele Shan was purposely being vague. She believed that Ciiru had to figure this out on his own. So, she wouldn’t give him any indication of what she thought, but she had dropped so many clues! Yet, Ciiru did not pick up on those. He was being blinded by the Dark Side, as to what he was going through.

In the meantime, Ciiru took her somewhat convoluted way of speaking as her way of telling him that he was not out of the woods, yet.

“You still had enough of the Light Side in you to obey your orders to return, and you have a strong affinity for the Light Side, or you would have become Darth Incinerous by now.” Satele said, dropping yet another clue, “However, it is as you have said. Your greatest trial lies ahead.”

Ciiru nodded acknowledgement of the truth she spoke, but continued to miss the clues.

“Thank you, Jedi Grand Master,” Ciiru said, in gratitude, “I won’t take up any more of your time.”

Satele Shan’s holographic image vanished. After a moment to reflect on his conversation with the leader of the Jedi Order, Ciiru rose to his feet and left his dormitory. He decided to go to the gymnasium to exercise his body, and perhaps to spar with the martial arts instructor. In the back of his mind, echoed something that she’d said, which troubled him.

“… You have a strong affinity for the Light Side, or you would have become Darth Incinerous by now.”

“What did she mean by that?”

 

Chapter Six: Asset Elimination​

The more Virulous thought about it, the more she realized she didn’t know how to plot a betrayal. Every day that passed brought her closer to her own doom. Her master was going to sacrifice her in one of his experiments. She wanted to turn the tables on him instead.

If she could do this without getting caught, she could ascend to the Dark Council. She knew, however, that she might face a challenge from Darth Eviscerous, Lord Calaverous, or even from Darth Komo.

“As Dark Lord, I could simply order their deaths and it would be carried out by the Empire,” she naively believed.

Her conversations with Andronikos revealed that he respected Darth Nox. So, despite his criminal nature, he would not turn on the Boss, as Andronikos liked to refer to the dark lord. Khem Val was an extreme danger to her. Even though he seemed to have dropped his deep distrust of her, he never failed to remind her that he kept his eyes on her. It was his way of keeping her honest.

It finally dawned on her, that if Andronikos knew where she lived, then it was possible that Khem Val had also always known where she lived. When he came to scan for the spytech, that might not have been his first time in her flat. It was even possible that he might have been to her flat on numerous occasions without her knowledge. In fact, when the Dashade scanned for the spytech, he might have been planting his own devices, while removing the devices of Nox’s enemies.

Sitting at her tiny desk in her bedroom and looking out the window of her condominium, Virulous shook her head morosely.

“I’m so naive,” she thought aloud, barely over a whisper.

She briefly thought about ending her direct service to Nox, but immediately dismissed that idea. Abandoning her service to the dark lord would result in forfeiture of her right to ascend the Dark Council as Nox’s apprentice and heir.

“If I left his service empty handed,” she reasoned to herself, “others would start to think that I ran because I was too weak to overcome him.” Virulous had to ruefully confess to herself, “I AM too weak to overcome him!”

The Sith lord looked at her desktop chronometer and decided there remained enough time in the business day to call a security specialist. She powered on her small computer and searched the holo-net for a reputable security specialist. After going through the details of several businesses and customer satisfaction reviews, she finally settled on one to call.

The miniature holographic image of a protocol droid appeared over her holo-transceiver which she had set on her tiny desk next to her computer.

“Esteemed potential client, Protus Security Consultants Group is pleased to receive your call. I am protocol droid, HT34-YH21, but please call me HT-Y. How may I serve you?”

“I want to talk to someone about scanning my residence for spytech, and also to upgrade my security systems,” Virulous said, getting to the point.

“We can send a security consultant to discuss the details with you. Our specialist will appraise the size and layout of your property and determine the appropriate price for our various levels of security scans. Our specialist will also appraise your current security system and make recommendations for a fix for the existing system, or make recommendations for a new system altogether, depending on your needs. There is an upfront fee that must be paid for these initial appraisals and consultations. Shall I schedule an appointment?”

“How much is the upfront fee?”

“At the minimum, nine hundred and fifty credits. However, depending on the size of your residence or business, it can be more, Esteemed Potential Client.”

Virulous nearly balked. However, she remembered that she’d just been paid her back wages, a very large sum of credits, and in a few days, she expected to receive her first regularly scheduled payday, which was quite substantial.

“Very well. How soon can I expect this specialist?”

“We have one available who can meet with you tomorrow, if you wish, Esteemed Client. What time would you like him to arrive?” HT-Y asked.

“No earlier than ten in the morning,” Virulous said.

“Then if you will give me a few details, I will schedule our consultant to meet with you at half past ten in the morning,” the droid said, than asked, “What is your name?”

“Darth Virulous,” the Sith lord said, unthinkingly.

Realizing her mistake, she corrected herself.

“Wait! Don’t use my real name. Use my alias, Shan Lunn.”

“As you wish, my lord,” the droid replied.

“Return to addressing me as a commoner, I wish to maintain my anonymity,” Virulous told the droid.

Virulous was furious at herself for making such a stupid mistake and her mood only began to worsen from there.

“As you desire, Mistress Shan Lunn,” the droid replied before asking for her address.

Virulous gave her address, still fuming at her slipup.

“We shall send our top specialist. You will find that he will be especially adept at handling any security requirements unique to your needs.” Then it asked, “Have you any questions, Esteemed Client?”

In a dire tone, Virulous told the droid, “Be sure that no one knows that I called for your services.”

“Be assured, esteemed client Shan Lunn, that we exercise the utmost discretion in all of our business transactions,” HT34-YH21 said.

“Good,” Virulous said, before cutting the connection.

As soon as the connection was cut, she bolted to her feet and began to rage at her stupid mistake, balling and shaking her fists, waving her arms furiously, and stomping her bare feet on the rug covered metal plate floor which was coated in a creamy white baked on enamel, all while shouting vile epithets at herself.

After a while, she had exorcised most of the rage from her system and decided that she needed to go out for a drink. However, a thought came to her that changed her mind about drinking.

Virulous, instead, decided to go to The Citadel. She decided to go to the library archives and research historical accounts of Sith Lords who’d betrayed or had been betrayed. She wanted to get some ideas.

Five hours later, Virulous was back in her apartment, sitting on her couch, which faced towards a wall to wall, floor to ceiling window in her living room. The lights in her living room were dimmed low.

In the day time, this window gave her a view of one of the city’s parks, which was five city blocks long, from east to west, and three city blocks wide from north to south. If she stood at her window and looked down far below, she’d see the rooftops of the smaller, thirty story high residential towers across the alley of her block.

The southern edge of the park started on the other side of the residential towers across the alley from her building. At the northern end of the park, three and a half city blocks away, was the city’s perimeter wall. The five story high wall kept the jungle and the wild beasts out of Kaas City. The wild jungle went on as far as she could see, to the horizon.

However, it was dark outside; the city park was mostly pitch black, with only the walking paths illuminated by meter high lamp posts set one every five meters. Beyond the park was the northern perimeter wall, which was illuminated by powerful ground lights pointing up at the five story high barrier. The jungle beyond the brightly illuminated wall was engulfed in utter darkness.

Near her window, her ceiling pulsed with the dim red glow of the flashing anti-collision marker lights, gently fading on and off, from the rooftops of the smaller buildings across the alley. The pulsing red light dimly reflected off the ceiling to her creamy white baked on enamel metal plate floor.

Virulous brought the bell shaped glass to her lips and took another long sip of her wine, staring absently through the permaglass window, not really seeing the nearly pitch black view outside. Her mind was focused on other matters.

“Nearly every plot ended in failure, because the plotters were themselves betrayed by those they trusted to help them carry out their betrayals,” she thought to herself, concluding, “The plots that succeeded were carried out with large loyal military forces and Sith followers who lost faith in their lord and threw their support behind the betrayer. I have neither large military forces, nor Sith who would follow me against the dark lord.

“If anyone could garner the support of Dart Nox’s followers to overthrow the dark lord that would be Darth Eviscerous. Even Lord Calaverous would support Eviscerous against Darth Nox if he’d lost faith in the dark lord,” Virulous was forced to acknowledge, even conceding, “Darth Komo, with his armies and his resources on Taris stands a chance to succeed Darth Nox.”

It was the lesson she took away from her research to look for ways to betray her master without getting caught. She startled herself, worried that she might have been overheard, but became greatly relieved that she didn’t say those thoughts out loud. She’d nearly forgotten that Khem Val likely bugged her residence.

Virulous began to feel bitter rage at the very idea that she could not so much as think aloud within her own home! On impulse, she hurled her wine glass at the window, where it shattered. The half-filled glass spilled its dark red liquid contents on its way to the window, leaving a trail of spilt wine leading to a small field of glass shards on the baked on enamel of her metal plate floor at the bottom of her permaglass window.

The Sith lord looked up at her ceiling, greatly frustrated at herself. She felt caged in her own home. Then it dawned on her.

“What if Darth Nox is anticipating my betrayal?”

She thought about how she’d called him out on his lie, which he unthinkingly used on her a second time!

“I should have kept my mouth shut,” she thought to herself, “It would have been easier to surprise him.”

Virulous was too upset to think clearly, and the wine she’d been drinking didn’t help with her thinking, either. She left the shattered glass and the wine stained rug where they were and went to her bedroom to sleep, deciding that she would clean up the mess the next day.

_____________________________________________________________________________________​

Virulous rose at the seventh hour. Her waking thoughts were of the mission on Makeb and of her time there with Darth Nox. She thought of his extraordinary fitness level, realizing that she had to improve her own fitness level if she hoped to be able to defeat him.

She entered her living room, dressed in her sports brief and bra, ready for a vigorous workout, but the Sith lord froze in her tracks when she saw the wine stains on her rug and the shattered wine glass scattered near her window on her creamy white baked on enamel floor.

The petite Sith lord let out a long sigh of deep frustration before redirecting her efforts towards cleaning up the glass shards. She threw out the rug and entered notes on her calendar in her datapad, as a reminder to herself, to buy a new rug. Virulous returned the furnishings to their respective places, having completed her not so rigorous exercise program for the morning. She then hit the fresher for an efficient shower.

Shortly thereafter, dressed in loose fitting house clothes, she walked to her kitchen to prepare her breakfast. She made a sparse meal consisting of durasteel cut oats and a cup of caf, in the ordinary Dromund Kaas style.

“That Ziost blend, at Grago’s Eats, was way too strong!” she thought, “Andronikos was right. I really was zinging off the walls, and I hadn’t even finished my first cup!”

Virulous had been reading the news and watching prerecorded holographic news reports as she ate her breakfast when she came across a seemingly innocuous report from the Imperial Army/Navy Times, a news service which catered to Imperial military officers stationed throughout the Empire.

The report talked about the need to reduce redeployments of all army groups operating in non-wartime zones within the Sith Empire because of rising fuel costs.

“But didn’t we secure the fuel for the navy?!” she asked herself, deeply surprised, “It’s already been six months!”

Basically what this meant was that Imperial army groups, deployed on navy ships, operating in regions not involved in the war against the Galactic Republic, would be deposited, with all of their equipment and supplies, onto various Imperial held planets. These army groups would then garrison on said planets – somewhat permanently.

These army groups would not be redeployed to any other zone for the foreseeable future. In other words, a big chunk of the Imperial Army reserve forces were no longer available for the Imperial war effort. Virulous resolved to discuss this with her master when she would next see him.

Even if she was planning a betrayal against her master, the Empire came first. This issue had to be addressed, Virulous strongly believed.

Her intercom chime sounded.

“What do you want?” She demanded, imperiously.

The artificially cheerful voice of a kiosk droid, from the lobby on the ground floor of her residential tower, emanated from hidden speakers in her kitchen.

“Good morning Mistress Shan. You have a visitor, Master Fridder Badded of the Protus Security Consultants Group, to see you.”

Virulous looked at the wall chronometer on her kitchen wall, it was ten minutes before the tenth hour of the day. He was early.

“Send him up,” she ordered.

Virulous walked her dishes and eating utensils to the sink, and then walked to her bedroom. There, she picked up her smooth, chromium plated lightsaber from her night stand and stuffed it in the pocket of her sweat top. She then walked to her living room and sat, curled up on her overstuffed chair, letting her fuzzy slippers fall off her feet and onto the bare white baked on enamel coated metal plate floor. This overstuffed chair, incredibly comfortable, faced the short hallway to her apartment door. Thus she waited for the consultant to ring her door chime at the backend of her living room.

After a time, the door chime finally sounded.

“Door… Open,” she commanded.

Her condominium door unlocked and slid open.

“Enter!” she shouted, so that the consultant could hear her.

The consultant entered as ordered and walked through the vestibule and down the short hallway as the door slid shut and locked behind him. He faced to the left just inside the backend of her living room at the end of the short hallway.

Virulous was shocked at what she saw. It was an alien, a Duros to be precise. The Duros male saw the surprise on her face. He’d been living on Dromund Kaas for several years now, and had become adept at reading human physical reactions.

Humans were one of the few intelligent species capable of non-verbal communications using visual cues. They had so many different ways to express inferences, everything from how they stood, sat, used or didn’t use their arms and hands, but especially from how they flexed their facial features.

Fridder Badded could tell that this human female was terribly displeased, in fact, perhaps even furious. She had been sitting in comfortable repose on her overstuffed chair, but in a flash she suddenly became rigid, leaning forward while throwing her legs out from underneath her, as though in preparation to quickly stand and charge at him. Her brow had also furrowed and the corners of her mouth were curved downward.

Fridder, at the end of the hallway, stood at the edge of the living room. He quickly set his two large equipment carrying cases down onto the floor, and after straightening again, bowed deeply at the waist.

“I am deeply honored to be call upon to serve the needs of one so esteemed as you, most noble lord. You honor me greatly,” straitening up, he added, in his heavily Duros accented Basic, “Please, tell me of your security needs.”

“You’re an alien,” Virulous said, not even trying to hide her disgust.

The Duros’ leathery grey green skin with its unique folds, thick brow ridge, and bulbous skull was not particularly hideous, but it was still unsettling to behold, especially the solid red bulging eyes.

“It is exactly as you say, my lord. I am an alien. However, I take pride in my Imperial citizenship. I aspire to one day be recognized as a most useful asset of the Empire,” Fridder said, then adding, as a show of patriotism, “For the Empire!”

The Duros took no offense at the Sith lord’s attitude towards him, however. He was used to this treatment from the upper crust of Dromund Kaas society. The regular folk had already gotten used to working and living among aliens, and had taken to treating him in accordance to his expertise in his field.

“My lord will find that despite my lowly status among Imperial citizens, that I am more than equal to the needs of the clients of Protus Security Consultant Group. When the utmost in discretion and the absolute best in security is required, I can be relied upon. I will not fail you, my lord.”

“You keep calling me lord. I thought I told that blasted droid to use my alias,” the Sith lord said, on the verge of fury.

She was also becoming annoyed by his alien Duros accented Basic. The Duros had three vocal chords which were set to three pitches. In their language, the various pitches, and combinations of pitches, had separate meaning, but when they spoke Imperial or Republic Basic, they tended to use all three vocal chords, resulting in a strange harmonic when they spoke their words.

“I wanted to maintain my anonymity,” she told the alien, realizing she couldn’t do anything about its inability to speak properly.

“It’s precisely why all of our documents shall reflect that my client at this address is Mistress Shan Lunn. However my lord, in the privacy of your home, I think I should not forget my place, and refer to you in the proper manner. I hope this will not be a problem for you. Lord?”

It couldn’t be helped any longer, so Virulous dropped the matter.

“I hope you have come prepared to work,” she said, rather brusquely.

The implications of what she meant was not lost on the Duros security specialist. She wanted him done with his work and out of her domicile as soon as possible. With a flourish of his hands, he indicated his oversized carrying cases set on the floor on either side of where he stood. Although she leaned back into her overstuffed chair and folded her legs underneath again, she was obviously not relaxed.

“Everything I need to complete my tasks are contained in these two cases,” he assured his potential client, “I will get to work immediately to determine what work must be done and to calculate the estimates of what the charges shall be.”

He expected her to say something along the lines of I don’t care about costs, just do it,” but this Sith lord nodded her consent.

“She wants to know the charges?! She must be pinching her credits!” Fridder thought, amazed. Then cautioning himself, “I cannot add spurious charges to her bill. She will likely scrutinize every item.”

“My lord,” Fridder began, “I want to be certain I am providing the services you requested. My understanding…”

“Sweep my entire flat for spying devices of every kind,” Virulous commanded, interrupting the Duros consultant, adding, “Then I want you to analyze and rate my security systems. I want to know if a simple upgrade is needed, or if I must replace the entire system.”

“As you wish, my lord. Then may I assume, you have granted me access to every part of your home, Lord?”

“Yes,” Virulous said, tersely.

“Then I shall begin, Lord.”

With that, Fridder bent down and opened both cases and began to unpack the equipment contained in them. He then began to assemble his instruments, mounting them on tripods. When his gear was assembled, he began to deploy them around the condominium, beginning with the living room, short hallway and vestibule.

When he was done there, he moved on to the kitchen and pantry, followed by her fresher, and her utility room, finishing up in her bedroom and wardrobe. The Duros security specialist completed the set up in twenty minutes. The alien then returned to the edge of the living room where he sat on the floor at his portable computer, which he’d set on one of his oversized equipment carry cases, and entered a series of commands to the software which controlled the sensors.

Ten minutes later, he had completed his report and copied it to a single use disposable datapad. The Duros stood from his computer and bowed towards his potential customer, before speaking to the Sith lord who still sat, this time in a relaxed posture, on her couch.

“I have the invoice and the report of my findings with an itemized estimate of costs, my lord,” the consultant said.

“Why should I pay for your initial consultation AND for the cost of performing those services? It’s as though I were paying twice?” Virulous protested.

“Indeed, my lord. The cost of the consultation is only paid if you decide you do not need my services. If you contract me for my services, the initial consult fee is waived,” the Duros security specialist said, to the Sith lord and, in amazement, thought to himself, “She really is pinching her credits!”

What he didn’t tell her was that the fee had already been included, broken up into smaller pieces and rolled into the other itemized costs.

“Then let me have your report,” Virulous said, accepting the Duros’ explanation.

Fridder walked to where his prospective client sat and extended his hand, presenting the datapad. Virulous, still upset that the technician was an alien, gave him a surly look as she accepted the datapad. The sight of this Duros, in her home, was reminding her too much of her time on Tatooine. She had her fill of aliens on that desolate, forsaken world.

Fridder had walked back to the edge of her living room and turned to face her before speaking.

“My lord, while you go over the report, I shall analyze your security system. That will not take very long,” the alien said, adding, “I shall present a separate report on my findings, along with estimates of costs for each solution that I shall propose.”

Virulous merely nodded her approval and immediately turned her attention to the datapad.

In the meantime, Fridder Badded got to work setting up a second portable computer, setting it on the other large briefcase. The Duros sat on the floor of her apartment, in front of his other machine. He sat at the edge of her living room near the short hallway and vestibule facing in the direction of the door and got to work. He did this so that the Sith lord would not feel that he was looking at her, and so that she could not see what was on his computer screen.

Fridder needed to connect to the security system network of her home security system to begin his analysis. How much difficulty he encountered slicing into her security network would be part of his assessment for his proposed solutions. As such, he didn’t need her user name, DNA numerical identifier, nor her alphanumeric pass phrase.

He also wanted to do some research on his client. The only information he’d been given was that she was a Sith lord of some importance who wanted to keep her anonymity and gave an alias to use. He was carefully warned to watch his tone around her, but that this was his chance to score a big payday in commissions.

“A big commission they say,” the Duros grumbled barely over a whisper in his native Duros tongue, “This job may be more trouble than it’s worth, and she’s scrutinizing the bill! Cheap credit grasper!”

Fridder made sure that the firewall and anti-malware software were up and running before making the wireless connections to his client’s security system network. He ensured that the connections were secure and encrypted before finally opening a port in the firewall to her system and running his diagnostic software.

Immediately, an aggressor virus attempted to attack his system, but his anti-malware software immediately isolated the aggressor virus and neutralized it, preserving its state for analysis and categorization. The source of the virus was also identified, a malicious line of code added to his client’s security system. His anti-malware software had thoroughly neutralized the malicious code so that his computer wouldn’t be attacked again while he continued to probe his client’s security system.

After ensuring that the captured virus was not going to ‘get loose’ and wreak havoc on his computer, he triggered a diagnostic subroutine on the captured virus. This, in effect, ‘dissected and analyzed its parts,’ as it were, to figure out what it was designed to do. Meanwhile, Fridder executed his next software, which began to slice into Virulous’ security network and systems.

He didn’t have to wait very long at all before his software had successfully sliced into her network and gained access to her security system. A backdoor vulnerability in this system had not been patched, allowing him to gain access without the need for her DNA numerical identifier. The username was the generic one used on new systems, UserOne, and the pass phrase was 123abc. Fridder shook his head in disapproval at these lapses of good sense.

His diagnostic software had already moved on to the next phases of the analysis, which would show all of the possible vectors of attack besides the one his slicing software had already exploited.

While his various software ran, he searched the holo-net for high society news stories, hoping to find information about his anonymous Sith client. He looked at article after article, full of images of Sith lords at glitzy events. From Virulous’ point of view, the Duros was busy at work, typing code, or entering commands and reading diagnostic reports.

Finding nothing, he turned to the political news section. Again, he found nothing.

“Who is this Sith lord?” he asked himself, “Why would anyone feel a need to deploy fifty spying devices throughout her flat?”

He glanced over an Image of Darth Nox with his Sith attendants, a huge monstrous alien, which species he did not recognize, and a very short figure, robed and hooded in black, with a black mask covering the face. Fridder kept, searching but found nothing on his client.

He decided to look in the business news section.

“Perhaps she is an executive of some corporation. She must be quite wealthy, living in this tower,” he thought.

Fridder took a quick peek at his diagnostic software. It was still running. He returned to his research, searching the news on the war. He found a report about a blood feud that transpired between two dark councilors. There was another image of Darth Nox, in a split screen image with the other Sith involved in the dispute, Darth Acina.

He scrolled down the page until he finally found an image of two other Sith lords. One was tall, smiling for the holo-imagers, named Zash; obviously the article was written quite a long while ago, Zash was now on the Dark Council. The other was a short and brooding woman, her eyes were narrow slits shifted towards Zash, showing her disdain for the flamboyant, smiling woman.

“It is her!”

Fridder read the caption beneath the holographic image of the two Sith lords.

“Shan, Lord of the Sith and Lord Zash, apprentices of Darth Nox, Dark Lord of the Sith. Responsible for the crushing defeat of their master’s enemies, both within The Citadel and around various localities around Dromund Kaas.”

A block of ice seemed to materialize in the pit of his stomach as he re-read a part of that caption.

“Shan, Lord of the Sith and Lord Zash, apprentices of Darth Nox, Dark Lord of the Sith…”

He scrolled further down in the article and read, “Shan, Lord of the Sith, in recognition of her power, has been elevated to Darth, and shall from this day be known as Darth Virulous.”

Alarm bells seemed to ring in his head as he recalled that it was Darth Virulous who had also single handedly destroyed the Exchange Gang on Tatooine.

“All by herself,” Fridder recalled the news event, and then stumbled onto the article.

“In furtherance of Darth Nox’s program of vengeance,” the article read, “Darth Virulous decapitated the Exchange Gang when she went on a bloody rampage, killing all of the organization’s leadership, thus throwing the rest of the criminal enterprise into a bloody free-for-all as the surviving members vied for supremacy and control of the now leaderless criminal enterprise.”

That part of the report was true, but the report went on to say that she hadn’t got a single scratch on her. There was no way for him to know that it was a great exaggeration. The physicians on Manaan had done an outstanding job restoring her charred and broken body.

Fridder decided he was not going to attempt to swindle his client out of any extra credits. He decided to play it straight.

As he looked at the results of his diagnostic scan of her security system, he felt as though he’d been thrust into a den of vicious and poisonous serpents. The people behind her compromised system, and all of those spying devices, were powerful enough to employ the highest level of intrusion techniques.

The aggressor virus was a top tier attack worm used to compromise unsophisticated systems without leaving a trace. Its job was to create a back door to networks, so that other, more powerful worms and aggressor viruses could penetrate deeply into well defended systems. Fridder was a security systems specialist, so they weren’t going to get him, but most systems were not adequately protected, which was why he had a job that paid great credits.

This particular worm, however, was used, almost exclusively by Sith Intelligence. This means that someone with a great deal of power, able to exert pressure on an intelligence service has acted in a hostile manner towards his potential client. In other words, he was getting mixed up in some very high level Sith politics between his potential client, her lord, Darth Nox, and whoever their enemy, spying on them was.

And now that he knew who she was, he was fearful of somehow getting blamed, accused, falsely charged and imprisoned, or eliminated as a potential witness. He uploaded the report to a fresh, blank, single-use disposable datapad.

Fridder closed his holo-net browser and uncrossed his legs as he stood up. He’d been facing towards the entrance of her condominium, so he found himself surprised when he turned to face her and found that she’d been quietly, intently watching him. The intensely cold look on her face made him feel like a small rodent, within striking range of a hungry serpent.

He finally understood what she was and where he was. He was in the presence of a powerful assassin and enforcer for Darth Nox. She was the dark lord’s apprentice and as such, next in line for his seat on the Dark Council. From Fridder’s viewpoint, Virulous was one of the rulers of the Empire and someone, possibly equally as powerful was after her and her master, and he was caught in the middle of it.

“She knows! She knows that I’ve discovered her identity!” he imagined, in a panic, “Why couldn’t I respect her desire for anonymity?!”

Fridder got down on both knees and placing both hands on the floor at the far edge of her living room, lowered his head until his forehead touched her baked on enamel floor.

“I am such an ignorant and lowly worm. I beg your forgiveness, my lord. Out of ignorance, I have shown you such terrible disrespect. I did not know who you were. Spare my life. I beg of you, Dark Lord.”

Virulous was puzzled. She had no idea what had gotten into him to change his slyly smug attitude so completely that he was now in a state of terrible fear.

“What’s gotten into you?” Virulous demanded, “What are you blathering about?”

“Forgive me, my lord, for I have violated your anonymity by discovering that you are Darth Virulous,” the alien confessed, sounding utterly miserable.

“You didn’t know who I was?” she asked, somewhat surprised.

“I was not given specific information, Dark Lord,” the nervous Duros replied.

“Dark lord is a title reserved for dark councilors, like my master,” she corrected, which also reminded her again why she was so weak. “You may refer to me as lord, or as Darth Virulous.”

“Why do I still call him ‘my master’ if I’m seeking to free myself from him?” Virulous thought derisively to herself.

The Duros wanted to change the subject. He could tell that her displeasure was not abating.

“Has my lord had a chance to look over the…”

“Stand up and look at me when you speak!” Virulous snapped at the groveling alien, “I don’t want to look at the top of your head, it looks ugly and it disturbs me!”

The Duros obeyed without delay. He knew that the higher up in power Sith lords were, the more easily agitated and abusive they could become, especially towards Aliens.

“Has my lord decided what she wishes to do about…” he began to say again, but was cut off again.

“Remove them all, immediately,” Virulous said, cutting the consultant off.

“Yes, my lord, immediately.”

With that, the Duros security consultant turned to face his portable computer, set on one of the briefcases, and squatting down in front of it, entered a command. The sensors, he’d set up throughout Virulous’ condominium to detect and locate each spying device, had another function.

The devices activated multi-phasic energy emitters that emitted a sequenced pattern of directed energy beams. Starting with a tightly controlled electrostatic energy beam, immediately followed by a high energy, tightly focused microwave beam, and then three pulses of tightly focused electron beams, concluding with a final directed burst of electrostatic energy.

He ran another scan with his sensors. Three spying devices survived the directed, focused, high energy beam attacks. So he repeated the scrubbing operation on those three. Following confirmation that the devices had all been destroyed, he set about to collect the ruined pieces of tech. Whereas they were nearly invisible to the vision of most species, when they were in operating condition, they had now been charred to ruins by the directed energy attacks and were now easy to spot.

“Is it safe to talk, now?” Virulous asked.

“You may tell me your deepest secrets and no one will ever lean of them, my lord,” Fridder said, almost flip.

He mentally kicked himself for his poorly chosen words and waited for the Sith lord’s wrath to descend on him. However, he relaxed a bit, when she kept her focus on his work.

“Tell me, who could have planted those devices?”

“My lord, I inspected them as I collected them. These are used by the Imperial Army and Navy investigative services. Sith Intelligence also use these.”

“Is it possible for anyone not in those departments to have access to those devices?”

“It is, my lord. If someone with enough influence applies enough pressure, they could acquire some from the manufacturers of these devices,” the Duros consultant said.

“A servant of a dark councilor, for example?” Virulous suggested.

“Yes, my lord,” Fridder replied, adding, “May I also suggest that Sith Intelligence, the Imperial Army or Navy investigative services might be running their own investigations.”

“I am no longer in the military, and I serve Darth Nox. Why would they feel a need to investigate me?” Virulous asked.

“A rival of Darth Nox may wish to find some weakness that they could exploit to harm him,” the Duros said, reminding Virulous of what Andronikos had said. He added, “It would not surprise me if others, in Darth Nox’s domain, have also been similarly compromised.”

Virulous became introspective, thinking carefully about whether it may have been an enemy of Darth Nox and not Khem Val who had planted the devices.

“If it wasn’t Khem, then he is incompetent to perform his duties as the dark lord’s security officer,” she thought, reasoning. “If this is so, then I can embarrass him in front of Darth Nox.”

In her heart of hearts, however, she knew that the Dashade was not incompetent.

“He knows what he is doing,” Virulous concluded, deciding to confront him.

The Sith lord’s eyes became focused, sharpened with determination as she returned her attention to the Duros.

“What about my security system?”

“It has been thoroughly compromised,” the Duros began, “This system is designed to keep ordinary thieves from breaking in to ransack one’s home. However, my lord, the people who compromised your system are no ordinary thieves. It was done using specialized slicing tools used to compromise systems without leaving evidence that a system has been compromised.

“For example, my lord, you have been using your intrusion security system normally, and it has been operating normally. However, additional functions have been added through alteration of the underlying code that permits the slicer to know when you are home and when you’ve left home. The new lines of code has also given them remote administrative control of your security system.

“These are techniques that highly skilled and highly placed intelligence operatives would employ to conduct surveillance of important bureaucratic or political individuals, or during the investigation of a foreign adversary,” the Duros said, emphasizing, “This is not something one would use for simple burglaries.”

Virulous’ brow furrowed as she shook her heard in a bit of confusion.

“I gave Khem Val access. Why would he….,” the Sith lord began asking herself before answering her own question, “Unless he compromised my systems so that he could come back later… Or perhaps he’s compromised my systems a long time ago?”

While she was in her thoughts, the Duros told her what he thought was the worst news.

“Someone with enough political power has mobilized the Imperial intelligence services against you and, by extension, against Darth Nox, my lord.”

Virulous thought this over. She remembered this was exactly what Andronikos had told her. However, Khem Val had removed those devices. She was sure these devices belonged to the Dashade.

“Very well. I will ensure the dark lord is informed,” she told the Duros security expert.

He was surprised at how calmly she took this news as she went on with another question for him.

“Then it doesn’t matter what security system I use,” she said to the consultant, “They will be able to compromise it again.”

“Actually, my lord, I can repair this system, and then put in place a secondary system which is designed to detect and block such slicing efforts,” or I can install a higher grade security system, backing it up with…”

“No, I’ll go with your first suggestion,” Virulous said, firmly, explaining, “It is as you say, the system is good enough to keep thieves out, but I want to know when highly skilled spies attempt to compromise my security system.”

“As you desire, my lord. I shall return tomorrow with the components to perform the repairs, and the secondary security backend defense system,” Fridder Badded said.

With the worst news out of the way, and with how calmly she accepted the information, he began to feel less afraid that he would be punished for the bad news he was forced to deliver. He began to feel more at ease.

“Is there anything else, I can do for my lord?” he asked his client.

“Does your firm provide assassination services?” Virulous asked, laughing and adding, “There is a very powerful Sith lord that I want dead.”

Suddenly, the security consultant was plunged into fear again, and found himself wishing that he hadn’t asked that question. Virulous laughed at his reaction to the inquiry. He literally hopped back. The Duros collected his wits and finally found the wherewithal to answer.

With a trembling voice and shaking hands, the consultant answered, “I will connect you to our asset elimination section, my lord.”

Fridder could only imagine that she was referring to Darth Nox, and became deeply worried when Virulous suddenly stopped laughing.

“That was a joke,” she half lied.

“Then you don’t want to speak to our asset elimination specialist, my lord?”

“N – No! Uh, um… Yes.”

 

Chapter Seven: Expanding The War​

The speeder slowed to a stop. On the front bumper of the speeder, instead of the vehicle registration licensing number plate, was a plate with a blue field with three gold stars arranged in a triangle and surrounded by a wreath of gold leaves denoting the rank of the passenger, a Galactic Republic vice grand fleet admiral.

The driver and assistant driver both exited the vehicle from the front doors of the sedan. While the assistant driver marched to the rear passenger side quarter panel, right next to the door, the driver marched smartly around the front of the speeder and stopped next to the front passenger side door, where he touched the contact for the rear passenger side gull-wing door.

The two Galactic Republic sailors then stood at attention and saluted as the door swung up. The vice grand fleet admiral exited from the passenger side and his adjutant, an admiral carrying a brief case, followed him out. Both officers returned the sailors’ salutes as they each exited the speeder.

The flag officer and his adjutant both made their way to a grand entrance at the bottom of the monolithic gargantuan building. Compared to the other towering spires in the commercial districts around the hexagonally shaped Galactic Republic Military Headquarters complex, the twenty buildings that made up the complex weren’t that tall.

The twenty buildings of the Galactic Republic Armed Forces Supreme Headquarters were all shaped like squat cones with smooth bluntly rounded peaks. Seven were quite large, as big as a large hill. Six of the seven buildings, each seventy stories high, were arranged in a hexagonal pattern and the seventh much larger building, at one hundred and ten stories, was in the center.

The remaining thirteen conically shaped buildings were much smaller, anywhere between ten to twenty stories high, and were arranged in a seemingly random pattern in between the much larger buildings. The complex of buildings’ metallic exteriors were all stained a somber burnt umber with curved white lines and other markings.

Every conical building looked exactly like the other, except that some were taller, and had larger diameters than others. They all had the exact same pattern of white lines and markings against the burnt umber.

The buildings all seemed mysterious, with the only three things setting them apart being the scale of the edifices, the scale of their markings, and their unique addresses stenciled just above the main entrances of each building.

An urban legend came into being that perhaps the markings and the arrangement of the blunt conical structures were a secret code. Many tried to decipher the code, but it was in vain. There really was nothing there. However, the public seemed to be having a lot of fun with the urban legend, and the Galactic Republic High Command let the public have its fun.

Even the plate metal main building rooftop, on which the squat blunt cone shaped structures sat, and which served as the roads, walkways and open spaces between each cone shaped structure, was stained in that somber burnt umber color.

Meanwhile the structures, which seemed to reach for the sky from the rooftops of the gargantuan buildings serving as the base of the towering spires, gleamed in blue silver, white silver, brilliant gold, and bright and highly reflective copper, towering hundreds of stories above the dully colored military headquarters, and surrounding the military headquarters complex on all six sides. By comparison, the military headquarters seemed to be the mediocre buzz kill in an area of beauty, grace and splendor.

Vice Grand Fleet Admiral Strom Thorental, commander of the 3039th Galactic Republic Navy, returned the salute rendered him by the two sentries guarding the entrance as he briskly whisked past them into the monolithic building. Just inside the grand entrance, a highly polished brass plated droid greeted him.

“Vice Grand Fleet Admiral Thorental, welcome back from your great and victorious campaign against the Sith Empire’s naval forces.”

The vice grand fleet admiral’s already stern expression became sour upon hearing the droid’s greetings. His feelings about this great victory of his were summed up in two words disgustedly uttered under his breath.

“Bantha poo!”

Although the droid effected not to hear the vice grand fleet admiral’s comment, his adjutant, Admiral Makk Shradder, nevertheless did and cracked an irreverent smirk.

“I am Random thirty two forty eight,” the protocol droid said, adding, “If you’ll follow me, I’ll guide you to the conference center. All are assembled, awaiting your arrival.”

“Random?” Strom Thorental asked, somewhat incredulous, “Did you just tell me your name is Random?”

“Yes, Vice Grand Fleet Admiral Thorental,” the droid confirmed, “Random thirty two forty eight.”

The droid turned and proceeded to make its way deeper into the gargantuan building.

Strom turned to his adjutant, shaking his head, and asked, “Did you hear that? Random! Who the hell comes up with these names?”

He turned to follow the droid and his adjutant locked step with his superior.

“Who knows, Vice Grand Fleet,” Admiral Makk Shradder replied, and giving in to a short chuckle, added, “Some overworked naval bureaucrat with an endless list of droids he has to name, I imagine.”

Strom shook his head with disapproval.

“Knowing how wasteful the navy is, it wouldn’t surprise me if there really is some department, tucked away somewhere in the bureaucracy, whose sole purpose in the navy is to name droids.”

The droid led the two officers through a maze of curved passages before arriving to a specific bank of turbolifts. After a bit of a wait, the lift doors finally slid open and the droid and its charges entered. The two flag ranked naval officers immediately took seats at the side of the turbolift. As expected, it was a long ride down into the main building, well below the rooftop conical structure.

The lift finally stopped and the door slid open.

“This way, “Vice Grand Fleet Admiral,” the droid beckoned, before proceeding out of the turbolift.

The two human males followed the droid out of the lift and into another maze of corridors.

“This is insufferable. Why chose a conference room all of the way down here?” Strom groused.

The small party arrived to a door which squeaked as it reluctantly slid open.

“Unbelievable! Hasn’t anyone around here ever heard of lubricating grease?” Strom said in mock disapproval.

“Well! Look who’s finally decided to show up,” an officer already in the small conference room brightly quipped. “Nice that you’re here, but the meeting’s already over. We were just about to leave.”

Strom took note that there were only four others in the room and they were all grand admirals. He was outranked by all four.

“Go take a break, Makk,” Strom told his adjutant, suggesting, “Take the droid with you. Have it show you where the brothel is.”

“I’ll find an office where I can get some work done, instead, Vice Grand Fleet,” Admiral Makk Shradder replied, chuckling, and then ordering, “Come on Random. You’re coming with me.”

The droid followed Makk out and the door squeaked shut.

“You really need to get someone to lube that door,” Strom Thorental said, taking a seat at the conference table. Then, “That was the longest turbolift ride I’ve ever been on. Why’d you decide to have the meeting all the way down here? We’re so far down, I can feel Hell’s heat just a few levels down!”

The senior of the four grand admirals chucked at the joke before giving his reply.

“I think we’re the first ones to use this conference room in several decades,” he said, chuckling.

Getting right to the point, the Admiral of the Navy started the meeting.

“We’ve been thoroughly compromised. Damned near every conference room and office up in the Admiralty and Naval Command sections of the building have had some kind of bugging device put in the rooms,” he said, adding somberly, “It was the entire custodial engineering crew, all nine thousand of them.”

Strom could tell that his old war buddy was not joking this time.

“Great Stars above!” he said, deeply shocked, then asking with great incredulity, “The entire crew of custodial engineers?”

Shrugging, the admiral of the navy gave a flip reply.

“They’re unionized. They all had to take turns betraying the Republic.”

“Just the Admiralty and the Navy sections? What about the rest of the cone?” Strom asked his superior referring to the massive conical shaped building hundreds of stories above their small conference room.

“We don’t know, yet, Strom; it might even turn out that every cone in the complex might have one or more of their offices bugged as well. Those custodial engineers had access to every building at the headquarters. The intel types are still scanning for bugs. Just when they’d think they’ve gotten an office all cleaned up, they’d turn around and find another one has already popped up. Then they’d have to run sweeps all over again. It’s like the bugs are breeding or something.”

“So, the Navy is compromised,” Strom said in quiet disbelief.

“We’ll talk more about that in a bit. Right now, I’m giving you this.”

Admiral of The Navy Jatteran Haastal presented Strom Thorental with a navy blue padded award cover and a medal presentation box, handing them across the table to Strom. Strom cracked the box open and took a peek at the medal he’d won. Then he opened the award cover and skimmed over the citation for the medal. He closed the award cover and set it on the table in front of him and set the box on top.

“Thanks, Jatt,” Strom said humbly to his superior officer.

“Why are you thanking me? You earned that.”

The medal was for bravery in the face of immediate danger during an action that occurred four months before.

Strom’s flagship was part of a convoy of ships belonging to a fleet commanded by one of his subordinate fleet commanders. The fleet was transiting from one Galactic Republic star system to another in a routine patrol.

A powerful Imperial fleet dropped out of hyperspace, perfectly positioned, and began firing on the fleet, concentrating their attacks on his subordinate fleet commander’s flagship and destroying it, killing the fleet commander.

The Imperial Navy ambush then concentrated its attack on his own flagship, as he took command of the fleet. His ship was taking tremendous enemy fire. He ordered the ship’s captain to maneuver as necessary and return fire, but not to retire from the battle.

The ship fought bravely, as Vice Grand Fleet Admiral Strom Thorental reorganized the fleet and lead its counter attack. The ship had taken severe damage and was losing its atmosphere to space. All hands had to don their individual life support systems. The ship’s captain urged the vice grand fleet admiral to transfer his flag to another ship, but after studying the situation, Strom Thorental refused, remaining aboard to continue to lead the fleet from the crippled, but still fighting ship.

After long hours of combat, reinforcements arrived, forcing the Imperial ambush fleet to withdraw having lost two Harrower-class dreadnaughts and three Terminus-class star destroyers in the vicious battle.

Strom didn’t feel it was a victory. He’d lost three Valor-class heavy cruisers and four Thranta-class destroyers. He also suffered two heavily damaged Valor-class heavy cruisers, including the one his flag was on.

With the battle over, the ship’s atmosphere gone, and the captain’s intent to order his crew to temporarily abandon ship, the ship’s captain urged Strom to transfer his flag. This time, Strom followed the captain’s advice and transferred his flag to the other crippled Valor-class heavy cruiser.

In transit, the heavily crippled ship he’d abandoned earlier had received necessary repairs, and had its atmosphere restored. The captain had ordered the crew to return, and Strom also returned his flag to the ship. Shortly after that, the crippled fleet, escorted by the reinforcements, completed its patrol, arriving two days late.

“It’s starting to become clear to me,” Strom said somberly. “That ambush, and now this last action I just came back from.”

He fell silent as he began to fit the pieces together. After a moment, he shook his head in disgust.

“They’re toying with us, Jatt!” Strom declared, quite unhappily. “They’re hiding the bulk of their fleet. Giving us a real run for our money with their run down fleet, which they’ve left behind to do all of the fighting, wearing us down! It’s a matter of time before they finally bring out the rest of their fleet to give us a good trouncing!”

“Now hold on Strom,” Grand Fleet Admiral Urrabii Pem, of the Mon Calamari species, interjected, “We knew they are hiding their fleet, but that’s because we destroyed their fuel stores and cut them off from their fuel sources. That fleet isn’t going anywhere. Especially after they’ve used up what fuel they had left to rescue all of those people on Makeb.”

“This is the Empire we are talking about, here, Urrabii,” Grand Fleet Admiral Gar Ullema, a Zabrak, objected, “They are not going to waste what little fuel they have left rescuing anybody unless they’d already secured another source of fuel for their warships.”

“Where in hell did they hide their fleet?” Strom asked in an even tone, after recovering his composure. “After they dropped the people off on that hell of a world, Taris, they went back into hiding. Where in the nine hells did they go? Didn’t we send anyone to trail ‘em?”

“They’re using a hyperspace lane we are unaware of,” Jatteran Haastal said, adding, “We don’t know where in the galaxy they’ve gone. Believe me, I’m looking for them. I’m risking losing scouts in Wild Space at the other end of the galaxy looking for them, but so far they haven’t turned up so much as a scrap of Imperial trash out in the unexplored regions of the galaxy.”

“Say, Gar, do you know what the final count was of the ships conducting the rescue?” Strom asked.

“We had five different counts with five different estimated totals, averaging eighteen thousand,” Grand Fleet Admiral Gar Ullema answered, adding, “But, again, this is the Imperial Navy. They like doing things exactly so. If I had to bet, I’d say there were exactly eighteen thousand ships. Their task forces and fleets were flush, no undersized fleets, no task forces short of any ships.”

Gar Ullema waited to see what Strom would say about those numbers.

“So, you think they probably had another six thousand ships hidden that weren’t involved in the evacuation of Makeb?” Strom nodded his concurrence, adding, “It would make sense to have a large force ready to protect the ships involved in the rescue standing by somewhere.” Then, with a rueful shake of his head, he sighed, then said almost bleakly, “They’ve got twenty four thousand fresh warships ready to throw at us.”

The three grand fleet admirals and the admiral of the navy watched their junior officer in the room, Vice Grand Fleet Admiral Thorental, as the gears turned in his head.

“What do you think, Strom?” Admiral of the Navy Jatteran Haastal asked.

“If we wait for them to go on the offensive, we’ll be finished. We need a fast moving, very powerful force to lay waste to Imperial centers of finance, industry, and resource production. We have to wreck their engines of economy.

“Taking out their fuel sources has worked. It kept the bulk of their navy out of the war. Unfortunately, we were unable to take full advantage of fighting an empire with one arm tied behind its back. After hearing about how thoroughly we’ve been compromised, it makes perfect sense that we couldn’t beat them despite the ragged condition of the forces they had fielded against us,” Strom said, again shaking his head in disgust.

“Wrecking their economy will take a bit longer, but it will have the same overall effect. However, I’m not talking about picking and choosing military industrial centers. I’m talking about all of it, financial centers, agriculture, every kind of industry; even if it doesn’t have any military application, all of it. We have to bring them to their knees.

“If we do this, they will be forced to divide their forces to defend their economy. What forces remain will be restricted by what their remaining economy can afford to invest on conquest. If we hit them hard enough and wreck enough of their economy, it will force their hand and they’ll have no choice but to keep a large portion of their military out of the war, held in reserve.”

Strom looked at the three flag rank officers in turn, waiting to hear their judgment of his strategic thinking.

“A shrunken economy and a depleted treasury to slow down and restrict their ability to strike us with their full might, is what you’re saying,” Grand Fleet Admiral Welden Fost, a Human, said, speaking for the first time.

When Strom nodded affirmation, Welden continued, “The Sith Empire has restrained itself, thus far, in order to restrict the range of the war. We could be fighting throughout the entire known galaxy if not for that restraint. It’s because we have this unwritten agreement with the Sith Empire to restrict the war to only the planets which they have claimed belonged to them. Only those planets are contested and embroiled in war.

“In order to achieve the effects you’ve described, we’d have to shred that unwritten agreement, and that would expand the war to virtually every planet as the Sith Empire retaliates,” Welden concluded.

The senior officers waited for Strom’s rebuttal.

“Our economy is larger. Our territory is larger. We also have something they don’t, reserve militias and local system naval reserve fleets and anti-pirate fast patrol fleets. If we activate every militia, on every world, the Empire will not be able to attack any of our worlds without encountering some kind of resistance. They’ll lose forces where ever they go. Remember also, that we’ll be forcing them to commit many of their front line forces to defend worlds, which they’ve left open because of this unwritten agreement. We will outlast them.”

Strom could see the doubt in the eyes of his superiors.

“If we are unwilling to suffer some pain, then we could just wait for them to attack, but we’ll lose everything.”

“I’ll bring your proposal to the Supreme Chancellor for her consideration,” Admiral of The Navy Haastal said, soberly.

Urrabii, looking to Jatteran for confirmation, asked, “Since its Strom’s idea, it would make sense that he lead this operation, if the Supreme Chancellor approves. No?”

Jatteran, turning to Strom, said, “Write up your operation, table of forces, order of march, all of it. Have it ready for me to review by the end of the week.

“Yessir,” Strom replied, thinking, “A promotion might come with the operation.”

Strom was glad for the opportunity to plan and conduct a naval group level operation, naval group operations were normally conducted by Grand Fleet Admirals.

Jatteran looked at Urrabii, Gar and Welden in turn, Urrabii and Welden commanded naval groups, while Gar oversaw Naval Logistical and Intelligence Operations for the entire navy. Sensing the three had nothing more to say, Jatteran ended the meeting.

“I suppose this should conclude our discussion, then?”

He looked at each man at the table, again searching for an indication that anyone might want to say something more. No one spoke.

“Then the meeting is concluded,” Jatteran Haastal said, rising to his feet.

“Congratulations on your award,” Gar said, smiling congenially.

“Congratulations,” Urrabii echoed.

“Thank you.”

“Great work out there,” Welden affirmed.

“Thank you,” Strom repeated.

No more words were exchanged as the door squeaked open, and the flag rank officers stepped out of the tiny conference room.

 

Chapter Eight: Suspicion Everywhere​

The turbolift doors slid open and as the Sith lord, shrouded in black, exited the turbolift, the officers and bureaucrats waiting to enter, quickly stepped aside, rushing to get out of the petite Sith lord’s way as she made her way through the maze of corridors and offices on her way to Darth Nox’s office.

Darth Virulous was in a foul mood. Three days after the Duros security consultant completed repairs to her security system, she had been summoned to appear before Darth Nox.

“I can’t believe myself!” she thought furiously, “How did I allow myself to seek the services of an assassination service provider?! They could hold that over my head to blackmail me!”

She turned a corner in the corridor.

“I had no idea that such services were offered by ordinary security consultancies! What is this galaxy coming to?!”

_____________________________________________________________________________________​

Three days ago, as promised, Fridder Badded had returned the following morning and repaired her security system, completely swapping out programmable control chips, replacing the old memory chips, and installing a more robust, upgraded version of the security software which would be managed by the control chips. He then installed a security backend monitoring system which would protect the main home security system from the kinds of sophisticated slicing attacks which had compromised her security system before the upgrades.

Finally, he changed her username and alphanumeric passphrase, presenting her with a written copy of those for her to memorize.

“I have changed the username and passphrase, which should make your system harder to slice. At your earliest convenience, change your username and passphrase again, so that only you will know what those are. Use the username and passphrase I’ve created, as examples of how you should create your new username and passphrase, my lord.”

Virulous wordlessly took the flimsiplast, with the handwritten username and passphrase, and after giving it a cursory glance, slipped it into a compartment of her conceal carry utility belt.

“I am deeply pleased to have served your security needs for your home,” Fridder said, also presenting her with the invoice. Then advising her, “An asset elimination consultant will make contact with you to discuss your other security needs.” He bowed deeply, then said, “If there is nothing further you require of me, then I ask your consent to take my leave.”

“Go,” Virulous said, curtly.

The Duros security consultant was never so glad to leave a completed job behind him, especially since this was a job that could have resulted in his death.

“The hire up the hierarchy the Sith lords are,” he observed, “the more paranoid and the more prone to violence they are. I am lucky she did not think to eliminate me as a witness.”

As Fridder entered his utility speeder, with all of his equipment and parts, he received a text message on his transceiver. It was from his employer.

“Shan Lunn account, paid in full.”

“At least, I won’t have to send reminders to pay, or send collection agents to collect from her,” he thought with some relief, and then with some amazement, “With all of their power, it astonishes me that practically all of the Sith pay their bills!”

Fridder didn’t understand that Sith lords paid their bills because they didn’t want to be perceived as being poor. It was a sign of weakness if a Sith lord was found to be deep in debt. As a result, Sith lords had among the best credit scores in the galaxy.

_____________________________________________________________________________________​

The sliding doors hissed open for Virulous, and as she stepped into the reception office outside of Nox’s office, Khem Val confronted her.

“Ha! You are smarter than you seem! You have found my gifts!”

Virulous whirled on him and let the Dashade have a piece of her mind.

“Why are you spying on me, Khem Val?!” she shouted with honest outrage, “I will tell Darth Nox of your intrusions and demand that he discipline you!”

“Why go to my master, tiny Sith? Does the tiny Sith fear to discipline me, herself?”

“If I did it myself, I would end up killing you, Beast!” Virulous growled from her clenched jaw.

She pointed a rigid finger at the Dashade’s face which towered high overhead.

“Do NOT say another word, Monster!” she shouted at the behemoth. Lowering her voice, and barely returning a patently false calm to her facade, she added, “I will destroy you where you stand.”

Khem Val did not challenge her threats, not because he feared her, but because he knew that if he provoked her and ended up killing her, his master, Darth Nox, would become deeply displeased with him. His master had grown attached to this tiny Sith lord.

Khem Val merely crossed his huge arms across his gargantuan chest, and turning his head away from her, “Harrumphed!” dismissively at her, adding petulantly, “I could eat you in one bite.”

The Dashade said no more, and Virulous, lowering her pointing finger to her side, quietly turned to go to Nox’s office door. She pulled her hood back and removed her armored capped mask, taking the last steps to her master’s door. However, the door did not slide open, forcing her to halt centimeters from it.

“2V-R8, open this damned door,” she ground out in a low voice.

There was a very perceptible delay before the droid’s mechanically cheery voice finally emanated from a speaker at the unoccupied receptionist’s desk some meters away at the side of the reception office.

“The dark lord will receive you, Darth Virulous, please enter.”

Virulous was at the verge of losing her composure, but she had been repeating to herself, over and over, “Do not lose my temper. Mind my thoughts. Do not lose my temper. Mind my thoughts.”

Virulous marched to the center of Nox’s brilliant yellow and sharp black ten thousand meter square rug – a prize of war, and knelt before Darth Nox’s desk, near the edge of the rug, 40 meters away.

“Thank you, Dark Lord, for receiving me,” she said loudly enough to be heard from that distance, “I have come before you, as summoned,” Virulous said, calmly.

“You are agitated,” Nox observed, “Tell me what is troubling you.”

Virulous became greatly alarmed.

“Has he seen my thoughts?!”

Virulous was sure that she had properly shielded her mind to conceal her feelings and thoughts of anger against her master.

“But how?!”

Virulous tried covering for her failure to conceal her feelings by deflecting.

“Master, Khem Val has been spying on me! I want him to stop! He’s planted spytech in my flat!”

Terrible dread struck her, when she realized that if Khem Val knew where she lived, so did Darth Nox.

“He’s known, all of this time, that I live in that dump!”

Nox cupped his chin as though thinking deeply on the matter.

“I have tasked Khem to see to my personal security. Even if I do not suspect my closest followers of treachery, it is his duty to suspect everyone.”

Virulous was shocked that Nox did not refute her accusations, instead conceding that it was true!

“But, Dark Lord, he broke into my home and violated my sanctity!” she protested.

Nox’s features showed that he was thinking the matter over, even as he nodded acknowledgment of her complaints. After a time, her master finally spoke.

“I’ll speak to Khem to find other ways which do not intrude on your private home life.”

Virulous was amazed. Her master was being so accommodating and reasonable towards her. It was as though he were a completely different man.

“My lord, I am grateful. Thank you.”

Virulous was confused. She was beginning to doubt herself.

“Does he really intend to kill me? Why is he treating me with such respect?”

Virulous studied Nox’s face for any indication that he was deceiving her.

“My lord, how did you know I was upset?” she finally dared to ask.

“Well, lord Virulous… It was plastered all over your face. You seemed very angry,” Nox said plainly.

Virulous blinked, realizing how paranoid and unsettled she had become. She shook her head, disappointed at herself, and realizing that she was allowing fear to drive her towards making a terrible mistake.

“I thought that you had somehow read my thoughts, Dark Lord,” she confessed, letting a small chuckle escape her lips, “How silly of me.”

“You have learned to conceal your thoughts from me very well,” Nox said, matter-of-factly.

Virulous realized that Nox had just confessed that he had been reading her thoughts in the past. He didn’t even try to deny or hide it!

“The technique is of no use against you, my apprentice,” Nox said, then elaborating, “You constantly guard your feelings from me, so that I can never tell what is really on your mind. This is a good thing. It means you are ever on your guard, never leaving anything to chance.”

Virulous merely stared, continuing to mask her feelings from her master, though her mind was roiling with the knowledge that indeed her master knew how to read minds.

“Will you teach me this, Master?” she asked quietly.

Nox leaned back in his seat behind his desk, his gaze bore into her. His facade showed that he was disappointed. It wasn’t a mean or cruel look. It was simple disappointment.

After a while, her master shrugged his shoulders, as though he was resigned to accept a less than favorable reality.

“Do you remember when I taught you how to detect others around you, even through walls and over long distances?”

She remembered that day on Makeb well.

“Yes, my lord,” Virulous affirmed, “You also taught me to manipulate others, to induce them to do my bidding.”

“Yes,” Nox confirmed, “You learned to understand and direct their emotional states of being.”

“Yes, my lord.”

“Why not use that skill to simply read the emotional states of those individuals. How they react to certain information?”

He could see that his apprentice was not understanding what he was saying.

“Remember also,” he said, in a firmer tone, “my admonition that you use your imagination to come up with new ways to use The Force.”

Virulous could see that Nox’s patience was starting to be tested. He spoke with a hint of exasperation.

“While sensing the emotional state of the individual you are interrogating, or simply speaking to, the emotions they exhibit can reveal their thoughts to you through the context of the topic of the moment.”

“My lord, you are telling me that based on the emotional responses to certain topics, you can gain an insight into how they feel about that topic.”

“That’s right. Then you ask follow on questions based on how they respond, verbally, as well as emotionally. The greater their emotional response, the closer to the truth you are on that issue.

“It’s not fair that I expected you to know this right off,” Nox confessed. “After all, I honed this skill and technique over many years interrogating prisoners as an Inquisitor.”

Nox had just taught Virulous one of his secrets for knowing what people were thinking around him, and why it was nearly impossible to lie to him. She also realized that he had revealed that because she was successful in masking her feelings from him, he could never tell whether she were telling the truth or lying to him.

“If he wants me dead, why would he reveal such a weakness to me?” she asked herself.

“Are you rested, Lord Virulous?” her master asked, bringing her out of her line of speculative thoughts.

“Are you ready to exert a great effort with The Force?”

Virulous remembered the conversation she had with her master, nearly a month before.

“You will teach me the Force Walking ritual, Dark Lord?” she asked, bracing herself to fight for her life.

“It is time!” Virulous concluded, thinking, “He is ready to sacrifice me for one of his rituals!”

The story of Nox subduing Force Ghosts to consume them and take their power and knowledge for himself, was the lie he’d used to try to lure her into interacting with the Rakata mind trap. In those days, Darth Nox was seeking a sacrifice so that her master could free the mind of Darth Zash.

Her master had wanted to sacrifice Virulous, but it was Juuldis Vannithana Resh who was sacrificed to the device. In essence, Darth Nox gifted the unfortunate Jedi’s, still living body to the mind of Darth Zash. Darth Zash’s consciousness had been freed from the Rakatan mind prison, and Juuldis’ mind was now imprisoned within the device.

Virulous wondered what dark ritual her master was about to perform to destroy her.

“What will result from the ritual?” she wondered, “I suppose that I don’t want to find out.”

Virulous carefully readied herself, gathering the power of The Force, readying herself to fight for her life.

She flinched when Darth Nox waved his hand, thinking it was an attack. However, her master’s droid responded instead, walking briskly from the side of Nox’s expansive and opulent office, making its way behind Nox’s desk to retrieve a device. The droid then briskly walked to where Virulous knelt. The ship droid presented the device to her.

She carefully looked at it. Deciding that it was a holocron and, hopefully, not a bomb, she extended her hand and accepted the device. She then turned her gaze towards her master. Darth Nox pointed at a small desk with a chair set behind it at the side of the office.

“Rise, Darth Virulous. Sit at that desk and study the writings contained within the holocron.”

Virulous obeyed. Making her way to the small portable desk at the side of the office.

“You must memorize the ritual. You cannot get it wrong. If you make an error, you’ll only have a split second to salvage the ritual, but more than likely, you will not realize that you had erred. The Force Ghost will take over your body and cast you out instead.”

Virulous sat at the desk and began to depress the button to activate the holocron. In a split second, she realized, too late, that Darth Nox was far enough away that he could take cover behind his desk and avoid injury from the bomb. Her heart skipped, then jumped into hyperspace as she pressed the button before she could stop herself.

Nothing happened, except that a text document opened and displayed in a lifelike holographic representation of a book. She looked at her master. He was already absorbed with some other work. Reading documents and typing something into his computer. He behaved as though nothing were amiss.

The book described, in detail, a method of taking over the disembodied soul and consciousness of a long dead Force user. It went into detail the concepts and reasoning behind the concepts. The more she read, the more she began to believe that this was an actual ritual.

She saw the danger that her master had warned her about. If she didn’t quickly overpower the Force Ghost and arrest its will, then she would, herself, be quickly overpowered.

The Force Ghost could dissolve her existence and her body would simply collapse with her death. It was entirely possible that her body could lapse into a vegetative state without a mind or soul to pilot it.

“If that happened,” Virulous thought, “it would be possible for Darth Nox to simply take my vegetative body, and present it to Juuldis, to free her from the mind trap.”

Virulous tried the ritual in a dry run, as it were. She could feel how her soul, her consciousness had begun to draw powerfully at The Force as though trying to create a vacuum. Instinctively, she could sense how if she had targeted a Force Ghost, it would have been drawn into her own conscious being.

It was the first indication for her that this was a legitimate Dark Force ritual and not a trap set by her master. However, Virulous had months of paranoia to overcome. She still suspected a trap.

She turned her face towards her master’s massive desk and found that he was watching her intently. Virulous realized that Nox felt, through The Force, her practice run.

“You must exert much more power than that to succeed, Lord Virulous. This is why I had you rest. This technique requires that you put everything, and I do mean everything, into subduing the Force Ghost. You only get one shot at it. You succeed, or you cease to exist.”

Virulous nodded her understanding, and prepared herself to perform the dry run again, this time with much greater effort.

“That is not enough,” Nox told her, explaining, “You will be in a battle for life and death with a Force Ghost who has learned to maintain his existence for millennia, and has ruled over the Massassi all of this time. This long dead Sith lord is not weak, Lord Virulous. He is knowledgeable of many Dark Force rituals, and if you succeed, you will gain that knowledge as well as his power.”

However, Virulous was greatly taxed by the enormous effort she put into the ritual. Before she could begin again, Nox stopped her.

“Go take a break, Lord Virulous. Return in half an hour ready to do it again. When you return, you must be ready to hold nothing back.”

“Yes, Master,” she answered, greatly exhausted.

She deactivated the holocron, rose from the small desk and walked out of Nox’s office. Just before the doors slid shut behind her, Virulous turned, on a whim, to look back at her master. He had already returned his attention to his work.

Khem Val was seated on the corner of the otherwise unoccupied receptionist’s desk. He was too big to fit in any of the chairs in the reception office because they had armrests. His huge arms were crossed over his massive chest, as he quietly watched his master’s apprentice walk out of the office.

He couldn’t put his finger on it, but something about the tiny Sith lord had changed. She was a lot more assertive with him, but he could chalk that up to familiarity. Obviously she’s figured out that he wouldn’t eat her without their master’s permission, but her body language around their master had also changed.

“It is not fear of his power, but it is fear. Why would she be fearful of him? Surely she should have sensed that our master has need of her and has placed her closer to him than the rest of us.”

The Dashade became troubled by this. He decided he would surveil her and, depending on what he found, he would consult with his master’s spy chief.

_____________________________________________________________________________________​

Virulous had walked past the security check point, where all personnel presented their credentials to the soldiers posted as sentries. The post was reinforced by two low ranking Sith lords who had recently been assigned to the Sphere of Ancient Knowledge, and whose turn it was to pull guard duty.

The two Sith had been leaning against the wall, exchanging small talk, and casually watching the personnel present their credentials to the soldiers as they entered or exited.

One bumped the other with his elbow and nodded in her direction. Virulous had passed through without showing her badge. The two Sith approached her, positioning themselves to block her path.

Virulous was lost in her thoughts as she briskly made her way to the bank of turbolifts, but had come to an abrupt halt when the presence of the two Sith entered her consciousness. Slightly startled, she looked up at the tall men.

“What do you want?” she demanded, imperiously.

“Did you know,” one of the young Sith lords said to her, “there is a directive from Darth Nox, himself, commanding all persons coming and going through this check point to present their credentials on entering or exiting?”

Virulous looked at the two young men as though they had the word stupid stenciled on their foreheads.

“Don’t you know who I am?” she asked, incredulous.

“I know you’re not Darth Nox, Half Size,” the other young Sith lord, replied, “So show your credentials to the troops at the…”

The poor young Sith lord never got to finish his statement, and his young friend didn’t escape Virulous’ wrath either. The two young men collapsed to the black polished metal plate floor in heaps.

“Think very carefully about how you address a darth, in the future,” she told the two motionless bodies before storming off to the turbolifts.

The soldiers at the post remained quiet, and made no move to intervene. They were well aware of who she was. Sadly, no one seemed to have briefed the poor young Sith lords about who Darth Nox’s apprentice was.

The corporal in charge of the post waited until the turbolift doors shut before taking action. He started by issuing orders

“Rickard, Felban, move their bodies to the side, over there,” he said, pointing to where over there was.

Then using the audio only communications device, he called the sergeant of the guard to report the incident.

“Sergeant Howe, speaking. How may I help you, sir, ma’am, or lord?”

“Sergeant Howe, this is Corporal Tibbers. We’ve had a major incident at the check point. The two Sith assigned here have just been killed by Darth Virulous.”

The corporal was met with a brief silence after his report. After the delay, the sergeant of the guard gave out a long sigh of exasperation before finally responding.

“I’ll be there with the lieutenant. Get the video set up so that we can review it when we get there.”

“Yes, Sergeant,” the corporal replied.

As he disconnected the call, he finally noticed that one of his men, Private Danta Rickard, was standing nearby, waiting to speak to him.

“What is it, Private?” he asked, brusquely.

He was angry that he’d have to write the report, and worried that he’d have to be the witness in the formal investigation that was to follow.

“Corporal, the two Sith are alive,” the soldier reported, fascinated, “They just can’t move.”

“What?! Why didn’t you say something sooner?!” Corporal Tibbers shouted.

He immediately dialed the frequency for the emergency medical response (EMR) unit for his sector.

“Stars! Are all privates as dumb as you?!” Corporal Tibbers demanded rhetorically.

“Yes, Corporal Tibbers, and the higher in rank they get, the dumber they get, too,” Private Rickard replied, deadpan.

Corporal Tibbers couldn’t counter the private’s snappy comeback, because the emergency medical response Sergeant had finally answered the call.

“Sergeant Gert, Imperial Army Emergency Medical Services, please report your emergency.”

“I’ve got two Sith lords injured from an attack. I need them evacuated for emergency medical treatment.”

“What kind of weapon was used in the attack?” the EMR sergeant asked.

“I didn’t see Darth Virulous use a weapon. They just kind of fell down. I thought they were dead, but they’re just paralyzed somehow,” Corporal Tibbers reported, a bit mystified.

“Oh, her. Very well, we’ll be there in a bit,” the sergeant said disconnecting the call.

Corporal Tibbers walked to the bodies of the two Sith lords, and looked at their faces. Their eyes locked on to him as soon as he entered their field of vision. The tracks of drying tears stained their faces.

“Lord Merrek, Lord Jandoo, I have called for an emergency medical rescue unit. They should arrive momentarily.”

One Sith shifted his eyes to gaze at the ceiling and the other simply closed his.

Ten minutes later, the emergency medical rescue unit arrived. A Sith lord came with them to observe. Also, at that moment, Sergeant Gert arrived on scene with an Imperial Reclamation Service army officer. The two soldiers walked to and stood beside the Sith lord who’d come to observe.

“Good day, my lord,” the officer said, to the Sith observer.

“Darth Virulous, again?” the Sith asked the officer, chuckling.

“Yes, my lord,” the officer replied, flatly.

He didn’t want to give away what he thought of Darth Virulous’ ruthlessness. The Sith could laugh about it amongst themselves, but if a commoner like him cracked a joke, it could mean his death.

_____________________________________________________________________________________​

Virulous had enjoyed a light salad of fresh fruits with a small bottle of lightly carbonated water. She felt refreshed as she made her way back to Darth Nox’s office to resume her training. She thought carefully, about the ritual the dark lord was teaching her.

“There is no doubt that the technique the dark lord is teaching me is real. I feel as though I am pulling at a great mass, and trying to force it into my core being, but it truly requires a tremendous amount of power from the Dark Side of The Force, power like I’ve never used before.

“Yet, I don’t see how it will imprison an outside entity into my own mind. I don’t see how it will allow me to incorporate that entity into my own being.”

Virulous was certain that her master was underestimating her intelligence. All doubt had left her. She resigned herself to the fact that Nox was going to betray her, that Nox was laying his trap of deceit. She knew that she had to keep him convinced that she was fooled by his trickery if she was to have the slightest chance of striking him down. She would have only one chance, one shot at him.

“The question is, how am I going to do it?”

The turbolift doors opened and she stepped out into the lobby. Several meters away, where she was headed, was a gaggle of soldiers and a Sith lord. They were in the process of moving her two young victims onto gurney droids. The Sith observer saw her first.

“My lord, Darth Virulous, it would honor me greatly, if you would teach me the technique you used on these young fools.”

Having heard the other Sith lord greet her by name, her victims finally understood their error.

“They haven’t freed themselves, yet?” she asked, mildly surprised that their minds were still separated from their bodies.

As she approached her two young victims, the Imperial soldiers all stepped out of her way. Standing over the two hapless young men, she shook her head disapprovingly.

“You are both pathetically weak. I cannot believe that you haven’t figured out how to free yourselves!”

Suddenly, the two young Sith got out of their gurneys and got onto their hands and knees, begging forgiveness and thanking her profusely for freeing them.

“Please, spare us, Darth Virulous!” one of the two, finally had the sense to plead.

“Next time, I will not spare you,” she told them, adding, “I hope you imbeciles at least know who Darth Nox is. If it was him you approached with that attitude, you would have been made into dinner for his Dashade monster.”

Virulous turned to make her way to the check point. Again, she did not show her credentials as she passed through. Just past the check point, however, she stopped and turned to look back at the Sith observer.

“Go to the library,” she said, looking him in the eye, “Seek the writings of Arus. In her writings she mentions the technique. Follow the clues that will lead to an artifact stored in the archives.”

That was all she would tell him. The Sith lord, however, thanked her profusely as she turned away to resume her steps.

It would be several months of hunting and researching before he would finally locate the ancient stone carvings with Arus’ master’s teachings, and the secret to that technique. Virulous could have easily spent the five minutes it would have taken to simply tell him how it was done, but somehow she really didn’t want to share her secrets.

She laughed quietly at herself as she made her way to Nox’s office.

“This must be how the dark lord feels about sharing when I ask him to teach me one of his techniques.”

Actually, many of the dark Force rituals Virulous had mastered were from the writings of Arus and from her master, Rehgga, Lord of The Sith.

Upon reporting to her master, he gave her a new training regimen to follow.

“Darth Virulous, for the next week, you shall spend as much time as you possibly can, concentrating the power of the Dark Side. You must do this while guarding your mind from corruption. Each day you must be able to concentrate greater power for a longer period of time. Your goal is to improve your stamina and to increase your capacity to quickly call on great volumes of Dark Side power – without scrambling your mind.

“When you return to me, in a week, I hope to see that you have also mastered the ability to control even greater power in the Dark Side of The Force. If I don’t believe you have achieved the level of power needed to carry out the ritual successfully, then I will not allow you to perform the ritual.”

Virulous was flummoxed on hearing this.

“Wait, my lord. Did you just say that if I’m not strong enough you won’t allow me to perform the ritual? Why not?”

Nox thought it was a stupid question, and answered it as such.

“Well, if you want to go kill yourself, then be my guest. Go, unprepared, and try to perform the ritual whenever you’d like. Now go,” he commanded, turning his back to her as he returned to his massive desk.

Virulous rose to her feet, turned about and proceeded to leave his office.

“If he wanted to kill me using this ritual, why would he stop me, if he thought I wasn’t ready?”

Her mind was caught in a whirlwind of doubt and confusion.

_____________________________________________________________________________________​

Virulous was exhausted, having exerted maximum effort during her demonstration. Darth Nox had called her in before the week was done to see if she had progressed. Darth Nox nodded his approval, but was not yet satisfied. He sent her away to continue her training.

She now had the ability to draw much greater power from the Dark Side! However, her master promised her that after performing the ritual she would gain even greater power, yet. However, Virulous still didn’t believe there was such a ritual.

“The dark lord is a master of deceit and subterfuge,” which was true, “I must not let my guard down.”

Yet, she could not deny that her power had grown nearly exponentially from these exercises.

She was in her disguise, wearing civilian attire, this time in a hooded jacket to conceal her face. She had been standing in line, waiting her turn for the taxi kiosk droid. It was finally her turn, and she approached the droid. As she neared the machine, it greeted her in a most curious fashion.

The droid spoke in a very low tone so that others would not hear.

“Greetings, Darth Virulous. If you require the disposal of a rival, please take a taxi to The Happy Brewer’s Pub. An agent will meet you there.”

Virulous went through a range of emotions, from utter rage at the droid for potentially exposing her identity, to utter fear, mingled with gut-wrenching dread.

“How did they know they could find me here?!”

Her phone had been tapped; Andronikos scrambled it and then threw it out. Her condominium had been bugged; Khem Val had cleaned out the bugs, but then planted his own.

“And now this! How did they know that I would be here?!” she demanded of herself.

“Who instructed you to deliver this message to me!” she demanded of the taxi kiosk droid.

The droid, however, did not answer. It was in the process of rebooting. There was nothing she could do, but wait. Virulous was at the end of her patience, but she waited for the droid to restart.

“I seem to have suffered a malfunction, and was forced to restart. I am deeply sorry for any inconvenience this may have caused you, honored traveler.”

Before Virulous could repeat her question to the droid, another traveler had lost his patience and opened his big mouth.

“What’s the hold up, short stuff? Don’t you know where you want to go?!”

Virulous lost it. She whirled about, both hands extended and let loose a terrible barrage of Force Lightning that instantly killed the loud mouthed lout, and ten others who’d been standing in line behind him. Eight others were badly burned and collapsed to the metal plated deck, writhing in agony. The lightly injured and everybody else, ran for their lives screaming in terror and shouting in alarm.

“They are witnesses,” she worried to herself.

Virulous looked up at the late afternoon sky, shaking both fists at the orange tinted afternoon star of planet Dromund, mentally kicking herself for her complete loss of control. She watched the travelers, all running towards the huge entrance of the cavernous lobby of The Citadel.

“It’s too late,” she realized, “I won’t be able to reach them in time.”

Virulous turned to the droid.

“Who instructed you to deliver that message to me?” she asked, much more calmly than she felt.

“I’m sorry traveler. My memory has recently been wiped,” the droid responded, and then asking, “What is your destination, traveler?”

“I want to go to The Happy Brewer’s Pub,” Virulous replied, resigned to go through with the meeting.

“The fair will be forty six credits. Will you pay now, or…”

Virulous presented her credit card for payment. The droid passed its card reader over it.

Please board the taxi at loading zone twelve, honored traveler,” the droid instructed, cheerfully.

Virulous walked briskly towards the indicated loading zone. As her taxi gently ascended and entered the local traffic pattern, Virulous could see Imperial troops, and emergency medical response units closing in on the carnage she’d left in her wake. She shook her head disgustedly at herself.

“What is wrong with me?!” she asked herself, truly perplexed, “I never used to be so short tempered!”

About fifty minutes later, Virulous debarked from her taxi and took three steps towards the entrance of The Happy Brewer’s Pub, but then she noticed a hovering probe droid slowly making its way to intercept her. She put her hand deep into her jacket’s right pocket and grasped her lightsaber.

The droid came to a stop a few paces in front of her, allowing her to choose to stop in her tracks or to advance a few more paces to close with the droid. She decided it was probably an intermediary contact and approached the droid. She was right.

The droid buzzed, chirped and bleeped its message to her. She looked at her holo-transceiver, in her left hand, and read the text translation.

“Honored potential client, please follow me.”

“Lead on, droid,” Virulous commanded.

The levitating droid began to drift at a pace that ensured Virulous would move at a brisk pace. The droid led her away from the pub and down the wide open walkway, past many commercial establishments at the base of the towering edifice. It crossed the street, with speeder traffic zipping twenty stories and thirty stories overhead. She passed many pedestrians walking past her, or whom she had overtaken with her brisk pace.

Halfway down the width of the towering structure across the street from where she started, the droid ducked into a service entrance for delivery speeder vans. It was a huge, brightly lit place. Several delivery speeders were already docked at various docking bays, unloading their cargoes.

At one of many empty loading docks, was a medium grade military security droid. The levitating probe droid led the petite Sith lord to it. The security droid introduced itself.

“I am an Imperial military medium grade combat droid that has been removed from Imperial military service and reprogrammed for other work, potential client. Please report me to the local authorities as stolen property. I cannot give you my designated identifier. My reprogramming prohibits me from self-identifying.”

Virulous merely shrugged.

“And?” she asked.

“My illicit programming has reassigned my central functions. I am now acting as the intermediary between the thieves, and yourself. I am relaying their remote communications to you, and relaying your replies to them. Please confirm that you wish to avail yourself of their services and enter into a contract with the thieves,” the droid stated.

“I’ve changed my mind,” Virulous said, flatly, “I no longer want their services. I’ve decided that it would be best if I did it myself. I would appear weak by my rivals if I relied on such services.”

Curiosity struck her, however, and so she decided to ask what was on her mind.

“Do assassins actually work for Protus Security Consultants Group?”

“The thieves state that Protus Security Consultants Group, are acting as a referring agent in this case. The thieves are outside, independent contractors,” the droid relayed, adding, “Further discussion is unnecessary and not advised, since you do not wish to proceed with their services.”

Virulous shrugged her shoulders, then turned to walk away. As she made her way to the exit of the service bay, a chirp sounded from her datapad. She pulled it out from her left jacket pocket and found that a nominal fee had been charged to her account for canceled services.

“Fifteen thousand credits, is not nominal!” she thought, outraged.

Suddenly, a terrible sensation overcame her. A terrible dread and sense of danger. She used The Force to leap a great distance to her right, taking cover between massive trash compactors, where she drew and activated her lightsaber.

Alarmed, she looked all around the cavernous service bay. She found that the two droids used to contact her had been destroyed. They had self-destructed and were not only on fire, but were melting into the metal plate decking of the gargantuan building. The chemicals used to destroy them were intensely hot.

After a moment, she deactivated her lightsaber. Then the first of the many building security droids began to appear on scene with fire suppression canisters. She realized that their human handlers wouldn’t be far behind and decided to quickly leave the scene. She didn’t want to be seen by the droids’ handlers, even though she realized that her meeting with the droids was probably recorded on security video.

“The hood of my jacket is covering my head and face,” she thought, trying to be positive about her situation, "but I’m so damned short! It might still be possible to identify me!”

Virulous ducked out of the cavernous service bay, walking briskly to The Happy Brewer pub, hoping to catch a taxi droid as quickly as possible.

“Kaas City has tens of millions of inhabitants, many of them just as small as I am,” she told herself aloud, trying to ease her own fears.

“But only one famous Sith lord is known to be as small as you,” she reminded herself, cursing the fact that she had ignited her lightsaber.

Virulous had no doubt that the event was likely caught on security video.

 

Chapter 9: Exercise, Real Estate, and Spies​

The Citadel was more a vertical city than a building. It had its own power grid with its own power reactor, with no reliance at all on the city’s power grid and reactors. The Citadel had its own water supply, and its own sewage treatment facilities. Its holo-net servers were on a different network than Kaas City’s holo-net servers, although this was primarily for cyber security concerns.

The 171st Military Police Regiment was stationed within The Citadel and exclusively responded to calls and investigated crimes within the government mega-building. However, the 172nd, 173rd, 174th, and 175th military police regiments serviced Kaas City. They operated independently from one another even though all five regiments were from the same military police division.

Six hospitals served the occupants of the tower, exclusively, and each had its own emergency medical care units. Eight fire suppression reaction companies also exclusively responded to fire alarm and emergency medical rescue calls within The Citadel.

The gargantuan tower had several shopping centers, interspersed throughout the building, which exclusively catered to the occupants of the mega-building. There were many, many shops, restaurants, entertainment centers, even cantinas. All were conveniently located to help the nearly one hundred and fifteen thousand office workers of the myriad governmental departments blow off a little steam without the need to leave the massive tower during their work shifts. This greatly helped the workers to return from their lunch breaks on time since they didn’t need to leave the building.

There were no civilian residential districts within The Citadel; civilians went home to the megalopolis after their work shifts were over. However, there were several military barracks and bachelor officers’ quarters deep in the sub-levels, from the four hundredth sub-level down to the six hundredth sub-level of the massive building.

The military personnel who served in the military headquarters section within the tower, the Imperial Reclamation Service headquarters, the military police, and the military personnel assigned to the military guard section, which manned security check points throughout the tower, were all housed in these barracks and bachelor officers’ quarters. Flag officers, such as generals, admirals and above ranked officers, and married officers of any grade lived elsewhere.

Married officers lived in a collection of residential towers owned by the military located an hour’s commute to the west of The Citadel. Flag ranked officers were assigned housing at several luxury residential towers in neighborhoods only minutes away from the mammoth government building.

However, Sith who had jobs in The Citadel were not provided with housing. They were expected to provide their own housing. Their salaries were such that if they had difficulty finding suitable housing, they were considered weak. It was a sign of poor financial strength.

Yet, it was easy for Sith lords to find quality housing in Kaas City. Demand for housing was moderately high, but finding a place to live wasn’t hard. Additionally, by city ordnance, Sith lords got a five percent discount on rents and leases of residential real estate. Sith lords could easily find very nice digs, at reasonable prices throughout the city. Also, while luxurious housing was a bit more difficult to come by, especially if one were particular about which neighborhood he wished to live in, one did not have to wait very long for something to become available.

Like any large municipality, Kaas City needed and had a large bureaucracy to run the megalopolis. However, Kaas City differed, in one respect, in that they had two bureaucracies, one for the city and one for The Citadel.

Like everything else about Kaas city and The Citadel, the bureaucracies operated independent from and autonomously from the other. In fact, at one point, they were too separate.

As a result, this bureaucratic system had to undergo a very careful and thorough reorganization. The current building administrator and the building management divisions under the office of building administration was made into a subordinate department within the city’s bureaucracy. It was no longer an independent commercial operation.

The Citadel was once ruled by a building manager who was a lord of the Sith. Lord Veradin ran a private property management firm which oversaw the maintenance and administration of the mega-building. This powerful Sith lord, had won contracts from the city to also oversee the municipal administrative processes of the gargantuan tower.

She gradually took complete civil control of the building from the municipal administrators of Kaas City. Veradin made her move when she submitted the proper documents and arguments in favor of separating The Citadel from the administrative rule of Kaas City. This would create a separate municipality named Citadel Tower City, and she would be appointed its mayor. It very much seemed that the Dark Council was about to let her have her way. Naturally as the mayor of the seat of the Imperial government, she would be elevated to Darth.

The mayor of Kaas City, Darth Rykath, who’d been appointed by the Dark Council to administer the great city, had discovered what the building manager was up to. The mayor, therefor, had set a trap for the building manager.

Comically, the building manager stupidly fell for the trap and ended up with very serious criminal corruption charges set against her. If convicted, her sentence would have included one or more of the following: loss of all of her wealth, loss of her title, and banishment from Kaas City.

Lord Veradin knew she would lose everything. So, in a plea deal, she agreed to resign from her posts as chief executive officer and chairman of the property management firm. In exchange, the criminal charges against her would be dropped.

In utter humiliation, she sold all of her real estate and most of her belongings, furnishings, art, speeders, and all of her slaves on Dromund Kaas, and she sold all of her shares of the property management firm, which she ran brilliantly for over fifteen years. Then, as agreed, she resigned in disgrace.

Lord Veradin transferred all of her credits, well over twelve billion, to a bank on Hutta. Then, abandoning her title, lord of the Sith, she moved away from Dromund Kaas. Under a new name, with new clothes, and a new hair style, she moved to Ziost to start over, fresh.

In the meantime, Darth Rykath had sent one of his followers to take over control of the building management office, and began the reorganization process to ensure that his rule over the building was permanently secured.

This was why, despite how self-contained The Citadel was, there was no doubt that the gigantic tower was a verified part of Kaas City. There would be only one mayor and city council to rule and govern over both the megalopolis that was Kaas City and the mega-building that was The Citadel. The two were welded together under one governing entity in true Sith fashion. This worked out well for the denizens of Kaas City who worked at The Citadel. There would only be one city tax levied on their salaries.

Keeper looked at the chronometer on the dashboard of his sports speeder. He had plenty of time. He was exiting the express lanes two hundred stories high, and rapidly descending and decelerating. With only a few kilometers remaining on his commute, he finally entered the local traffic pattern. Directly ahead of him was the gargantuan edifice, The Citadel. It was an illusion, but the mega-building seemed to stretch into space.

At the base of the building, at ground level was a kind of moat. While it didn’t have any water in it, it did provide a wide gap on all four sides of the gargantuan building that prevented anyone from approaching The Citadel on foot. The dry moat was less like a moat, and more like a deep canyon.

It was five hundred meters across and five hundred sub-levels deep. The building went all the way down to nine hundred basement sub-levels, and its foundational columns went another thousand meters below the bottom level of the massive building.

The building’s foundation was solid, even if five hundred windowless basement levels were exposed in the dry moat-canyon. All nine hundred sublevels were two kilometers long, and one kilometer wide, and those dimensions held true a hundred and fifty stories above ground level.

Above the one hundred and fiftieth story, the building began to taper, every fifty stories, then every forty stories, then every twenty, every, ten, and then every five, narrowing lengthwise, until the upper building floors measured one kilometer square, all the way up to the seven hundredth story, tapering again until the floors measured five hundred meters squared up to the one thousandth story.

The last three hundred stories of the thirteen hundred story tall building tapered again, until at the very top, a five hundred meter high steeple reached high into the sky atop the gargantuan tower. The Citadel was a very tall building.

Three hundred and three sub-levels down, on the eastern side of the canyon-like chasm, was Nox’s private speeder port. Although Keeper knew of the private port, he would never dare use it. The dark lord usually had 2V-R8 drive him to and from work, dropping off the Sith lord or picking him up from that private speeder port whenever he was on Dromund Kaas.

The outer perimeter of the canyon, on all four sides, was parking for The Citadel. The topmost open air parking was visitor parking. The twenty sub-levels of underground parking was all reserved parking. A section of the lower level parking structure was set aside for the motor pool which was operated by the Imperial Army’s 5727th Mobilization Division. This division was tasked with supporting the transportation needs of the military units operating within The Citadel. The mobilization division primarily operated in and around Kaas City and also to and from the Spaceport six hundred kilometers to the east of the megalopolis.

The majority of the parking structure, however, was allocated for the civilian, military, and Sith personnel who drove in to work every day. The majority of these workers took shuttles from the parking areas to the massive parking deck at the foot of the gargantuan building.

This deck, two kilometers long by two hundred meters wide, was dominated by taxi kiosks and their taxi passenger loading zones along the outer edge of the platform. The parking shuttle passenger loading zones were located along the centerline of the two kilometer long deck. However, the valet parking spaces, reserved for lords of Sith, moffs, and other very important bureaucrats coming to work or to visit on official business, was located along the base of the building on either side of the massive entrance.

Keeper piloted his sports speeder into the huge open air speeder port, located at the southern side of the gargantuan edifice, coming to a stop over a valet parking space. He picked up his slim briefcase from the passenger seat and exited his vehicle. He didn’t get far before the valet parking space told his speeder where in the open air visitor parking lot, across the canyon – dry moat, to go park.

The spy chief was on his way to Darth Nox’s office to give his weekly report on the current situations developing throughout the Sith Empire. As usual, he wore an Imperial Army officer’s uniform. The uniform made him fit right in at The Citadel, even though he wasn’t, nor was he ever, in the Imperial military.

Watcher Two, waiting for Keeper’s arrival, was also in Imperial Army officer’s uniform. Unlike Keeper, she started out as a military intelligence officer. She worked her way up to the rank of major before she was poached by Keeper and recruited into Imperial Intelligence. A few years later, the agency was disbanded by the Dark Council, but Nox quickly recruited the two, using their expertise to professionalize his personal spy network.

Watcher Two had been waiting for Keeper at the enormous entrance of the mega structure. She fell in on his right side and locked step with him as he entered the gargantuan edifice. The two walked briskly, making their way towards the northeast corner of the cavernous ground floor lobby of the government building.

The cavernous lobby was filled with throngs of military personnel, civil servants, and other officials, coming or going to or from their offices. Keeper and Watcher Two walked for several long minutes before they finally reached one of the turbolift lobbies which bordered the cavernous main lobby. It was about a hundred meters south of the northeast corner of the lobby. This side lobby, which was quite large in its own right, held the specific bank of turbolifts which all went down to the basement sub-levels on the eastern half of the building.

Four of those were express lifts, which stopped every fiftieth sub-level and were the fastest way to get to the three hundredth sub-level, on the northeastern quadrant of the building. As Nox’s spies entered the turbolift lobby, they both froze in their steps upon hearing a familiar voice over the din of the crowds.

“Come here, Thin Man. I will have words with you.”

Keeper and Watcher Two turned about to face Khem Val behind them. Khem Val was leaning against the wall with his huge arms crossed over his massive chest. The beast was not wearing his usual armor.

The green skinned, heavily tattooed monster was dressed in a dark brown sleeveless, buttonless vest which he wore open at the front. The Dashade also wore a matching dark brown simple head scarf, which draped down the back of his head and neck, and a dark brown kilt that ended just above his ankles.

The only armor the behemoth chose to wear were shin and foot guards, which protected the tops of his bare feet and toes, his shins, and his knees. He also wore an old fashioned baldric belt made from real animal hide and durasteel fasteners. His monstrously huge vibrosword hung from this belt, suspended over the back of his shoulder, giving the gargantuan Dashade a decidedly savage appearance.

The Dashade had been patiently waiting at the right corner of the lift lobby opposite from the bank of turbolifts, which was why Nox’s top spies had failed to notice the beastly Dashade. They entered the side lobby, immediately turning towards the last four turbolifts, the express lifts, on their left. This gave their backs to the Dashade monster.

“This is not the place to have words, Lord Khem Val,” Keeper replied, speaking loud enough to be heard.

The Dashade merely motioned for Keeper to draw closer, which Keeper did. The hulking beast offered Keeper a disposable datapad, which the spy chief accepted.

Looking up into the towering monster’s eyes, he asked, “Now what?”

“There is one who is plotting betrayal against our master. Investigate this,” Khem Val commanded, in a low voice.

Keeper stepped back a pace as Khem Val suddenly pushed himself from the wall and took his first step towards the lift lobby threshold. Keeper watched the monstrous Dashade stomp past him as the behemoth made his way out of the turbolift lobby and into the vast main lobby towards the speeder port outside. The crowds kept their distance from the hulking beast, staying well out of the monster’s reach.

Darth Nox’s spy chief slid the slim profiled datapad into the breast pocket of his uniform as he made his way back to where Watcher Two stood waiting. Watcher Two made a brief face, showing her disgust, when Keeper spoke two words.

“Palace intrigue.”

Keeper and Watcher Two sat in the reception office waiting for Darth Nox to become available. The spy chief thought to make good use of the time and decided to have a look at the datapad the behemoth Dashade had given him.

Handing the datapad over to his second in command, he commented, “I have to give it to Lord Khem Val. His surveillance techniques are top notch.”

The datapad’s screen displayed security video footage which followed Virulous from Nox’s office to an exclusive gymnasium which catered to the elite of elites. Shortly thereafter, the petite Sith lord emerged from the gym, this time in civilian clothing. If it were not for a small white arrow pointing out the subject, Watcher Two would have missed Virulous’ exit. The hood of the Sith lord’s drab jacket covered her face effectively, and the Sith lord’s unremarkable attire was entirely easy to miss in the crowds of civilian government workers walking about in the video.

The surveillance video footage followed her out of The Citadel to the crowded taxi port at the edge of the expansive speeder port. The canyon-like gap was visible at the southern edge of the platform which served several taxi companies. Watcher could make out several other taxi kiosks, further in the distance from the taxi kiosk which Virulous approached. It was finally her turn.

The carnage she perpetrated at the taxi kiosk was recorded and undoubtedly under investigation. However, once investigators figured out who the perpetrator was, the investigation would be filed away as Case solved and closed. No further action required.

Theoretically, investigators could ask Virulous why she did it, but why take unnecessary risks with the lives of the investigators on the case? It’s enough to know that she is the apprentice of Darth Nox and that not a single prosecutor will try her case, nor would any judge accept the case in their courts.

What Watcher Two found most impressive was that the security surveillance video picked up at the Sith lord’s destination as she stepped out of her taxi droid. This meant that Khem Val had to figure out which taxi line Virulous used. Then he had to slice into that taxi line’s central mainframe where every passengers’ taxi trips were recorded by taxi kiosk droids located throughout Kaas City.

He had to slice into the database, decrypt it, then figure out which droid accepted her trip order, and then figure out which trip order was Virulous’ out of the thousands who had ordered trips through that kiosk droid. He had to have had it all done in real time to get her destination. Then he had to slice into the surveillance security video networks at her destination in time to record her exiting her taxi and meeting with the probe droid which approached the Sith lord.

The Dashade would then have had to slice into several surveillance camera networks to keep following her movements as the probe droid guided her to the next building located at the next block, where he finally recorded her meeting inside with an unarmed medium grade war droid.

“The droid was obviously stolen from the Army,” Watcher Two deduced, thinking, “That’ll be a good place to start running down who stole the droid, and who bought the stolen droid. If I’m lucky, I’ll figure out who Virulous was meeting with remotely via the droid.”

“This is a beautiful piece of work,” Watcher Two said, with deep admiration, “Have you considered recruiting him, Keeper?”

“He thinks of us as his tools to use as he sees fit. He’d likely take offense if I asked. He probably believes that joining us is beneath him,” Keeper replied with a sardonic grin.

“He may be a brute of a monster, but he is seriously competent, there is no denying this fact,” Watcher Two observed. “This work… I mean, this work means that he had to slice through several different security video monitor networks and the taxi mainframe, in real time and kept up with her movements! I’ll have to slice into the taxi mainframe and learn how he was able to single her trip out of the hundreds of thousands of trips on that database,” Watcher Two said, in considerable amazement.

“There were only two gaps in the coverage,” Watcher Two told Keeper, “One was at the gym. That’s the one all of the moffs, the darths, and lords of Sith like going to. I suppose the elite don’t like being surveilled while they work out their flabby bodies.” Watcher Two laughed at her own joke.

“Or while they discuss illegal or treasonous business,” Keeper said, adding his two credits on what he believed was going on in that gym.

“The other gap in coverage was inside of the taxi droid,” Watcher Two said, as she continued her very positive critique of Khem Val’s work.

There was no need for Watcher Two to explain that gap in coverage. On Dromund Kaas, the security monitors inside of taxi droids were, in fact, a part of the droid. The droid did not operate that camera unless a crime inside the taxi was in progress. The Dashade would have to hack into the droid itself to get at the camera, and that would have been a huge time sink. It wasn’t worth it.

“But if you look at the time stamps on the video,” Watcher Two had been saying, “you can tell that the taxi made no detours from the start to the end of the trip.”

“Perhaps I can get him to do some work for us, from time to time,” Keeper mused, “if I were to frame it as though it were a favor or a cooperative endeavor to further the dark lord’s aims. A favor which I would repay with credits.”

“Or with information on the location of some tasty force sensitive for him to munch on,” Watcher Two said, laughing.

Watcher Two returned the datapad to Keeper after watching Darth Virulous jump between two enormous trash compactors and igniting her lightsaber as the two droids self-destructed.

“Will we investigate first, or will you give a preliminary report to the dark lord?” she asked her superior.

“I don’t want to unnecessarily sow distrust between the dark lord and his number one follower. It could destabilize his entire power structure,” Keeper replied, adding, “We’ll look into this, first.”

“It looked to me that she didn’t expect the droids to self-destruct and was greatly startled by it,” Watcher Two said, adding, “Having audio would have been useful.”

“And her back was to the surveillance monitor. So, lip reading is out,” Keeper added.

“I’ll look to see if we can get a video from another angle,” Watcher Two said.

Keeper nodded his approval and rose to his feet to go into Nox’s office. 2V-R8 had announced that the dark lord was ready to receive him. Just before entering Darth Nox’s office, Keeper turned to face his second in command.

“Watcher Two, I authorize you to slice into her home and work computers to search for evidence there,” he said, before turning and stepping through the door into Nox’s office.

Watcher Two was genuinely surprised by those orders. She expected that Keeper would want to develop outside evidence first, before taking the drastic measure of slicing into a Sith lord’s computers, especially a Sith lord who answered to no one but Darth Nox.

_____________________________________________________________________________________​

Very early the following morning, Nox was nearing the end of his biweekly marathon endurance exercise routine, which consisted of a very rigorous regimen of resistance weight training exercises, a ten minute long sprint on his treadmill, followed up by another rigorous regimen of resistance weight training exercises, and then another ten minute long sprint on his treadmill, all without using The Force and without breaks in between.

Almost immediately following his treadmill run, he began his martial arts routine, consisting of unarmed hand to hand combat stances, thrusts, kicks, leaps, and leg sweeps, also without The Force. He finally wrapped it all up with his armed combat training routine using his custom fabricated sabrestaff simulator, but this time he had to use The Force.

His sabrestaff simulator consisted of an inert sabrestaff hilt fitted with heavy solid metal rods in place of the saber beams. The simulator mimicked the design of his current sabrestaff which he’s had for the past five years. The inert hilt weighed as much as the real thing when deactivated, but the metal rods simulated the weapon’s resistance to being moved around when the magnetic force field generator coils were activated.

He conducted his routine without resting in between exercises with the goal of maintaining peak physical condition and improving his stamina without relying too much on The Force, except to manipulate the very heavy weapons simulator the way he would with his real sabrestaff.

In this way, when he did face an enemy, he would not be over reliant on The Force to compensate for a lack of stamina or lack of physical strength. This would also allow him to focus his use of The Force for powerful Dark Force rituals. That’s not to say, that he would not use The Force for martial combat, but that his physical conditioning would permit him to face a weak foe without relying on The Force all of the time.

The dark lord had been conducting these training sessions for over a decade, but starting five years ago, his training routine had changed, taking on a more challenging level with the increased modes of lightsaber forms, techniques, and stances made available to him because of the design of his new weapon.

Thirteen years ago, the Force ghost of his distant ancestor, an ancient Sith Lord named Aloysius Kallig, had instructed his descendant, Kallig, on how to locate his weapon. Nox had been using that weapon up until five years ago when it developed a crack in the body of the hilt. Nox was forced to retire his family heirloom weapon.

The dark lord found himself with an opportunity to develop and fabricate a new weapon. He took advantage of the moment to expand his lightsaber combat forms and options with the design of his new weapon.

As a result, Nox expanded his combat skill set. Sometimes he trained with his weapon in its sabrestaff configuration, and other times he would separate the staff into its twin lightsaber configuration and train in dual-wielding combat techniques or in single weapon techniques. Sometimes he would train right handed, and other times left handed. Nox trained for every possibility, even for worse case scenarios, like losing the use of an arm.

In retiring his old weapon, Nox removed the crystals, power core, and plasma emitters from the ancient bright matte stainless metallic colored hilt. He mounted the now inert ancient sabrestaff onto a very expensive, very hard to obtain, highly polished, beautifully carved, natural greel wood floor stand. Greel wood was prized for its natural deep scarlet color and black wood grain texture.

The ancient heirloom weapon was now on display in a prominent spot on the floor near the right corner of the office. The floor to ceiling, wall to wall window offered a panoramic view of Kaas City’s skyline and served as the backdrop for his sabrestaff display in the office where he pursued his ambitions for the throne. All of his offices were located on the second floor of his palatial home. If Nox wanted to work from home, he would go to one of these offices.

After retiring his old weapon, Nox wrote up the specifications for his new weapon. One thing that he craved from his ancient weapon was greater power output. Shortly after finding his ancestor’s sabrestaff, he upgraded the antique, installing modern plasma emitters and a new high density power core. The power core was itself limited because the ancient hilt was shorter and narrower than modern sabrestaff hilts, meaning the power core had to be custom fabricated.

The design of the ancient sabrestaff hilt limited what he could do to upgrade it. For example, he could only install one power core, with a smaller than standard size and which would have to supply power for two high energy plasma emitters and two magnetic force field generator coils.

Modern sabrestaff hilts had two power cores, each powering one high energy plasma emitter and one magnetic force field generator coil. He had to custom fabricate the magnetic generator coils, too. They were also smaller than their modern day equivalents.

In the days before he had acquired his business, Transformative Technologies, Nox programmed his ship droid with the schematics to custom fabricate the magnetic force field generator coils for the nonstandard sized emitter port shrouds on each end of the ancient sabrestaff.

Ironically, it was partly because of the limitations of his heirloom weapon, that Nox found himself relying as much on marshal hand and foot combat, as he did his weapon. His weapon could only last so long on one charge. It forced him to rely more on Dark Force techniques, during combat than his weapon. Nox’s fighting style was influenced by the limitations of his ancient weapon.

Although he found success in increasing the power output of the relic gifted to him by his ancient ancestor, he found that the increased raw unfiltered power of the plasma streams was damaging to the ancient kaiburr crystals.

Nox experimented with adding a third, filtering crystal which would pre-filter the plasma stream before it hit the two filtering kaiburr crystals. After a great deal of research and trial and error, he found that tektite crystals worked the best, but it also had the unexpected but eye pleasing effect of adding a very deep red hue to the resulting saber beams.

Armed with his past successful experience with modifying his ancient weapon, Nox constructed his new weapon. There were a few but important differences to the weapon he designed. His ancient weapon was only fifty one centimeters from end to end and three point three centimeters in diameter. His new weapon would have a total length of seventy centimeters and have a diameter of four centimeters. His new weapon would be 19 centimeters longer and seven millimeters wider. It would be a much easier weapon to handle, and safer, too.

Another feature he added to his new weapon design was that the sabrestaff would be able to be separated into twin lightsabers. Each twin would be thirty five centimeters in length, a bit oversized for common lightsaber hilts, but the slightly oversized hilts would then be able to accommodate his two custom-made oversized power cores, one for each plasma emitter and each magnetic force field generator coil.

Nox gave the specifications for his power core design to the CEO of his business, Transformative Technologies. The dark lord had also given him very precise specifications for both the high energy plasma emitters and the magnetic force field generator coils which, if his calculations were correct, would result in a very powerful weapon.

“The energy output of the plasma energy emitters in my specifications are much higher than what would be found in common blaster pistols and rifles, Veld,” Nox explained to the CEO of his technology business, “I want plasma emitters capable of outputting six hundred percent more energy than what are found in Imperial Army issue blaster rifles. However, the emitter plates need to fit within the lightsaber hilts with half a millimeter of clearance between the edges of the emitter plates and the interior of the hilt, and they must remain cool during continuous operation.”

Nox handed Veld a newly fabricated sabrestaff hilt, with its locking and unlocking mechanism, and showed him where in each hilt the power core, high energy plasma emitter and the magnetic force field coil went, including the internal wiring.

Having explained all of the details to the CEO of Transformative Technologies, Nox left Quesh, his business’ new location after it moved from Nar Shaddaa.

Veld Ming Terrek got started, assigning an engineer to take exact measurements of the cavities within the hilt. This engineer took liberties to examine the locking / unlocking mechanism as well. The measurements the engineer took would determine the dimensions of the components they were going to design and fabricate. The CEO of Transformative Technologies then assigned three experimental design engineers to each work on the power core, high energy plasma emitter, and the magnetic force field generator coil.

Designing and fabricating the nonstandard overpowered components with the dark lord’s exacting specifications wasn’t hard for these engineers. In fact, they had improved on his specifications. The problem lay with the difficulty in acquiring the materials. The materials required to make the components operate at the performance standards Nox had specified were very expensive and not very easy to obtain. As a result, the dark lord had to wait some time for the parts to be fabricated and shipped to his residence.

A month prior to leaving Dromund Kaas for Quesh, Nox had obtained Andronikos’ aid in designing the mechanical locks for his new hilt. Besides being a ruthless pirate, Andronikos was an expert fabricator. The semi-retired pirate had built the prototype sabrestaff hilt with the locking/unlocking mechanism and turned it over to Nox.

“Here you go, Boss. It’ll join and unjoin the way you wanted them to.”

Before he met Nox, Andronikos commanded two different starships as a pirate. He had to make frequent repairs to his ships after each raid because of the incredible damage sustained to the starships when attacking, forcefully docking with, and boarding other starships.

Many times the repairs required him to fabricate and machine components to replace broken and damaged parts on his starships. Ultimately, on two separate occasions over two different planets, both starships had been blown to pieces from under him. In both situations, he conducted emergency landings, which were immediately followed by extraordinarily violent running blaster battles as bounty hunters on Duros, or law enforcement officials on Tatooine, attempted to kill or capture him and his scattering pirate crews.

He had given his pursuers on Duros the slip. Then he stole another starship. After his escape, he recruited and hired a new crew to resume his life of piracy in open space. Then he was shot down again.

_____________________________________________________________________________________​

Many years ago Andronikos was holed up on Tatooine, desperately hiding from bounty hunters and dedicated lawmen, while waiting for an opportunity to steal another starship to make his escape, again. However, all of the landing pads, and the main spaceports were under heavy guard. Andronikos was effectively pinned down and unable to make a move.

Darth Nox, known as Kallig in those days, was on Tatooine searching for an ancient artifact that once belonged to Tulac Hord. It was a holocron. The artifact was rumored to be in the collection of a mob boss on Tatooine. Darth Zash had sent Kallig to verify the rumor and to take possession of it and then bring it to her.

Kallig had trouble with the local thugs. Whenever, he tried to get information out of them, they always wanted something for it. After paying them, the information he’d get from them in return always turned out to be lies.

As an inquisitor, he’d developed Dark Force techniques which allowed him to be quite an effective interrogator. Using The Force, he could tell if his subjects were lying to him. So, instead, he’d invariably end up killing the informants and recovering his credits and then some. Eventually, the gangs started gunning for the Sith lord.

While Kallig was rethinking his strategy, he’d met and eventually hired Andronikos as muscle. Andronikos wasn’t the talkative type, Nox found. However, Nox had used The Force on a few occasions to deflect bounty hunters. This saved the wanted criminal from capture.

“This isn’t the bounty you’re looking for,” the Sith lord said.

“This isn’t the bounty we’re looking for,” the hunters mindlessly repeated, to Andronikos’ astonishment.

“You don’t need us, we can go on our way,” Kallig said.

“We don’t need you. Move along. Move along,” the heavily armed and armored Advosec hunters repeated.

It never ceased to amaze the pirate whenever the Sith did one of those mind tricks. Andronikos started to realize that he could probably make his way off world with the help of this Sith, but he knew he’d be indebted to him, and that was something the pirate didn’t want.

“He could be my ticket off this rock. I need to figure out something to trade with him,” the wanted criminal thought to himself.

Kallig did not ask this of his hired gun, but Andronikos realized that if he could help find this thing the Sith was looking for, he could use that as his bargaining chip. Andronikos called an old associate of his. Using his connections with his old partner in crime, he was introduced to the local mob boss, a Hutt named, Gragaroh the Hutt.

Gragaroh had eyes and ears everywhere. The Hutt agreed to discover the whereabouts of this ancient device. In exchange, he wanted Andronikos to eliminate a local gangster, who’d gone rogue and stopped paying tribute to the powerful mob boss. Andronikos accepted the deal without hesitation.

“Hey, boss,” Andronikos said to Kallig, a short while later, “I got the local mob boss to use his network to figure out who has this holocron you’ve been after. All we gotta do is take out some local thug who’s gotten too big for his own good.”

“I didn’t say you could do this!” Kallig shouted at his hired goon, “What if this mob boss decides to keep the holocron for himself?!”

“Easy, Boss. No need to shout. I can hear you just fine,” Andronikos said, holding his hands up placatingly, “If we take this thug and his goons out, Gragaroh’ll know that we ain’t small fry. He won’t do nothing dumb like try to keep your prize,” Andronikos gave a predatory grin, “but if he does try to keep it, we’ll know where your holocron is anyway.”

Kallig nodded, slowly, his acceptance of Andronikos’ suggestion.

“Very well,” Kallig said to his hired gun, “Where do we find this thug? Let us go dispose of him.”

“Not so fast, Boss,” Andronikos said, “Let Gragaroh the Hutt find your prize, first. If we kill Branno now, Gragaroh won’t have any motivation to keep looking for your holocron.”

“Very well,” Kallig replied, accepting the pirate’s reasoning.

A few days later, Andronikos knocked on the door to Kallig’s room at a run down, dusty inn.

“Enter!” Kallig ordered.

“Hey, Boss! Gragaroh’s found your prize. Now it’s time to do our part. I already cased Branno’s hangout. He’s got ten goons working for him, but they don’t always hang out together. So, the most we’re likely to run into is four or maybe five of ‘em.

“Andronikos,” Kallig, began, “if Gragaroh is as powerful as you say, wouldn’t he have already taken this Branno fellow, out on his own?”

“Yeah, you’re right, Boss. But why waste your own manpower when you can farm the hard work out to third party contractors?”

Andronikos then offered Kallig one of his spare blaster pistols.

“Here you go, Boss. You’re gonna need this.”

Kallig looked at the weapon and was quite honest with the pirate.

“I’ve never fired one of those before. I’ll stick to my own weapon.”

“If you say so, Boss,” Andronikos replied, already regretting taking the job of dealing with Branno.

Andronikos walked into a cantina and sat at a table. Kallig sat on a chair across the table from him.

“We’ve got a problem, Boss,” Andronikos said, “Branno’s got company. That’s Kleenah Tram. It looks like they’re gonna team up on Gragaroh.”

“So, then let me guess. Everyone in the pub, giving us hard looks are their henchmen.”

Which it turned out to be everyone in the cantina, minus the cantina staff.

“Yeah, Boss,” Andronikos said dryly, as a barmaid approached their table.

“What do you guys want?” she asked with a surly attitude.

“You ain’t getting nothing for them, little lady,” a gruff voice said from Branno’s table, “They was just leaving.”

Branno was a burly Houk. His ally, Kleenah Tram, seated across the table from him was a Trandoshan. The henchmen were a mixed group of aliens and humans.

The barmaid and the bartender both ran out of the dining area and into the kitchen. They knew how this was going to play out.

Andronikos got right up and took his first step towards the door.

“Andronikos,” Kallig said, a warning was in his tone, “Stand at the door and don’t let anyone out.”

“Sure, Boss,” Andronikos said, with every intention of making his escape.

As soon as he stepped on the door’s threshold, his ears were assaulted with the explosive crashing sound of furniture destroying itself. He took a few running steps out, but returned to the door to look inside of the cantina.

Kallig was finishing off those who’d survived his explosive Force Push attack with his sabrestaff. A handful of the gangsters, led by both Branno and Kleenah Tram, had survived the Sith lord’s initial explosive attack.

They quickly reorganized themselves for a counter attack, firing their blaster pistols wildly at the Sith lord. Andronikos watched lighting – lightning – shoot out of the Sith lord’s hand and strike them all. The gangsters stopped shooting, and seemed to be shaking and trembling where they stood. When the lightning ended, the six gangsters dropped to the floor.

The unnatural speed at which the Sith dashed forward and skipped from thug to thug, impaling each one with his weapon, was chilling to the pirate. It was over between eye blinks, but the pirate was further astonished by what the Sith lord did next. After securing his weapon, Kallig bent down to rummage through the pockets of his victims and began taking their credit cards, datapads, and any jewelry the dead wore.

The barmaid, bar tender and the kitchen staff came out when things had quieted down. Kallig saw them come out and spoke coldly to them.

“I’m hungry. Make something good for me to eat.”

He stood there, waiting for their reply. Andronikos finally found his voice.

“Yeah. I could stand for a bite of something, too. And barkeep, bring me something to wash it down with.”

The barkeep signaled the kitchen staff to get moving, as he poured a beer into a frosty mug and set it on the bar. Meanwhile, Kallig returned to rummaging through the bodies for loot, Andronikos looked for and found a table that was still intact, and righted it. He then retrieved the chairs he and Kallig had been sitting on earlier. It seemed those chairs were behind the Sith lord when he unleashed his attack, thus surviving the destruction in the Cantina.

The pirate sat after retrieving his beer from the bar and watched as Kallig rummaged through the few remaining bodies. The Sith lord deposited his spoils onto the table, and then walked behind the bar and proceeded to wash his hands in the sink. Then, selecting a bottle and two shot glasses, Kallig proceeded to the table Andronikos had set up. As Kallig sat, he placed the glasses down and poured both he and his hired gun a drink. Kallig raised his drink.

“To a job well done,” the Sith lord said, in toast.

“Here! Here!” Andronikos, toasted before tossing back his drink, and then following that with a swig from his beer.

Andronikos watched as Kallig began to drain the credits out of credit cards of the dead, and depositing those credits into his own credit card.

The Sith Lord then started going through the datapads, accessing any banking accounts the thugs might have owned and drained those accounts into his own. Andronikos watched in fascination at the demonic speed the Sith lord’s hands moved.

At last, the barmaid came out with their dishes. Real fear was plastered on her face, as she tried to find a clear spot on the table to set the plates down.

Kallig had to shove his spoils to the side of the table to make room for his meal.

“Hun, could you bring a pitcher of whatever this beer is, and an extra mug?” Andronikos asked, smiling.

“Ye-yessir,” the barmaid replied, with real fear in her voice.

“Barmaid,” Kallig said, without any warmth in his tone.

“Ye-yes-s-sir,” she replied, near to tears.

“How am I supposed eat without cutlery?” Kallig asked, eyeing the poor young woman, coldly.

“I-I’ll br-bring th-those, sir,” she replied. She turned and practically fled into the kitchen.

However, she never returned. The barkeep brought out the cutlery and the beer with two frosty mugs.

He smiled at his two customers.

“Let me know if there’s anything else I can get for you,” he said, adding, “Thanks for cleaning those guys out, they were ruining my business. Don’t worry about paying. It’s on the house.”

The proprietor returned behind the bar and waited for his two customers to finish their meals. Kallig enjoyed his midday meal.

“I see you like taking loot after a job,” Andronikos observed, pouring beer into Kallig’s mug.

“Loot?” Kallig asked, lifting a bite of food to his mouth.

“You went through their pockets,” Andronikos explained, before biting into his sandwich.

“Ah, that,” Kallig replied, before his next bite of food, “Prizes of war,” Kallig chewed, then explained, “I deserve them. I took what was rightfully mine.”

“Makes perfect sense to me,” Andronikos said, nodding his agreement.

“It is well that you did not flee as you had originally intended, Andronikos,” Kallig said, eyeing the pirate, “I would have had to hunt you down and kill you for your betrayal.”

The Sith lord then cut another portion of food with his knife, and used his fork to put it into his mouth. Andronikos looked at Kallig as though his employer had become a liability.

“It’s a Sith thing,” Kallig explained, while chewing, adding, “It makes us look weak if our followers abandon us. We have to find them and slay them for their betrayal. Don’t worry about it. You didn’t run away.”

“Sure,” Andronikos replied, “If you say so.”

“You can have the jewelry,” Kallig told the pirate, “Some of those are quite nice and should fetch a good price. That will be your share.”

“I didn’t do nothing, but stand at the door watching the massacre,” Andronikos replied.

However, that didn’t stop him from going through the jewelry.

“You stood at the door and kept them from leaving as I had asked,” Kallig replied, coldly eyeing Andronikos, sipping from his beer mug.

Andronikos began to realize that his employer was probably not going to pay the second half of the agreed fee. He also realized that he might not be able to make his trade.

Kallig rose from his seat and stepped outside. Shortly after, Andronikos joined the Sith lord.

Two hours later, Kallig was in the palace of Gragaroh the Hutt. Andronikos had convinced Kallig to let him do all of the talking.

“Alright, Gragaroh the Hutt! We made a deal. You found what we needed, and we did what you wanted. We got rid of those ungrateful mailoc turds who thought they were too big for you.”

Andronikos pointed at Kallig and said, “Don’t disappoint him, Gragaroh. He doesn’t like having his time wasted. He kept his end of the bargain. Now it is your turn to keep your end.”

Gragaroh looked at Andronikos with new eyes.

“You make him greater than you. You have a well earned reputation. You are a fierce pirate. Yet you defer to this unknown one,” Gragaroh said, then asked, “Why?”

“Because I just stood at the door and watched him kill just over twenty of the meanest goons in all of Anchorhead, Gragaroh,” Andronikos replied, adding, “He’s from the Sith Empire, he’s a Sith.”

Gragaroh didn’t fear Kallig, but he realized that he was facing the Sith Empire. He knew he could not contend with the Sith Empire, but he could not lose face in the presence of his henchmen.

“I am strong, I do not fear a lone man, but the distinguished guest in my palace is a representative of the Sith Empire,” Gragaroh said, “I give the proper respect and offer hospitality to the Sith Empire’s representative. Andronikos, you are correct. We made a bargain, and I honor my bargains. I give to him what he seeks as we have agreed.”

A female Twi'lek advanced on his signal and bowing in a most respectful manner, presented Kallig with the ancient holocron. Gragaroh the Hutt had purchased it from his rival. The Hutt mob boss had judged Kallig’s service a good trade for the cost of the purchase.

A short while later, Andronikos, pleasantly surprised, verified that he was paid the remainder of what he was owed. That’s when he made his pitch.

“Well, I did an extra bit of work for you, Boss, when I got Gragaroh the Hutt find your holocron for you. I say that deserves a bit of a bonus.”

Kallig was waiting for the pirate to ask for more credits.

“What do you want, Andronikos?”

“Take me off this rock; drop me off anywhere, Boss. I don’t care where as long as it’s out of the Tatoo Star Cluster, and as long as it’s got big cities on it.”

Kallig recognized Andronikos’ tenacity, cunning, and resourcefulness, and he recognized the pirate’s ability to navigate the complexities of doing business in the underworld. This gave the Sith lord an idea.

“I can take you with me off of this planet. However, if I take you with me, then you must come into my service.”

Andronikos made his counter, counter offer.

“I’ll pay you back all these credits as my fare to whatever star system you’re headed to. Then when I get off ship, we’ll part ways.”

“When you have changed your mind,” Kallig told the pirate as his answer, “find me at my starship at launch pad one hundred thirty six. I’ll get rid of the security at my launch pad,” Kallig said, adding, “Your service to me shall begin then. Do not turn my offer down so easily. You’ll find many opportunities for your own side businesses, if you come to work for me. Also, your salary shall not be unsubstantial. My launch time is set for twenty one hundred, galactic standard.”

The Sith lord then turned away, leaving a bitterly disappointed and desperate pirate behind. Andronikos realized he was destined to be trapped on this dusty desert world.

“Blast it all!” Andronikos cursed, making his way back to his room at a rundown inn.

Not an hour later, Andronikos was at Kallig’s starship with his gear. As promised, the security at the entrance to the walled launch pad was gone, nowhere to be seen.

“I’ll lie about taking the job and then make a break for it, the first chance I get,” he figured.

As soon as Andronikos stepped through the heavy duty sliding door and into the walled-in launch pad, he stopped in his tracks. Andronikos had to gawk at the starship.

“I can’t believe it,” the pirate said under his breath, “It’s an actual Sith Empire Navy warship.”

At the bottom of the ramp was a huge monster of a beast. Its huge arms crossed over its massive chest. It had to be at least three meters tall! Andronikos had never seen one of those before.

He walked towards the bottom of the ramp. The huge monster drew and activated its massive vibrosword, and stomped its way towards the pirate.

“Stop where you are, vermin trash! If you attempt to flee, I shall strike you down and feast on your carcass!”

“Hey! Take it easy, fellah! I was doing a job for Kallig. He’s offered me a ride on his ship. Yeah?”

“Worm! Trash! You shall refer to him as your master, you scum!”

The monster was quite insistent.

“Whoa! I’m just a temp hire! I ain’t got no masters!”

“Leave him be, Khem. I told you to expect him,” Kallig said from behind the behemoth, descending the ramp.

Khem Val huffed angrily and turned back to return to his post at the bottom of the starship.

“Look at your starship,” Andronikos said to Kallig, approaching the pirate across the hard packed sandy launch deck, “You some kind of big shot?” Andronikos asked, mystified.

“I am a Sith lord,” Nox said, as though reminding a half-wit, adding, “I have some political power. I serve under one of the twelve rulers of the Sith Empire.”

“In other words, I can use your connections and earn a bunch of credits doing side jobs like you said. Yeah?”

“Come into my service, Andronikos. You shall be rewarded.”

“What’ll be my job, though?” the pirate asked.

“You shall be my connection to the underworld. You shall carry out my dirty work, and you shall captain my starship,” Nox replied, pointing a thumb over his shoulder at the Imperial Navy Fury-class Interceptor.

“You got yourself a pirate,” Andronikos answered, meaning it.

_____________________________________________________________________________________​

Years later, Nox spoke to the semi-retired pirate and expert fabricator, describing what it was that he needed his new sabrestaff hilt to do. That was all the information Andronikos needed to design and fabricate the locking and unlocking mechanism for Nox’s new hilt.

The engineers at Transformative Technologies admired the straightforward and simple to operate design. However, being engineers, they couldn’t help but add their own refinements to the locking and unlocking mechanism, greatly improving its reliability and durability and thus greatly improving the hilt prototype.

While the dark lord waited for the components from his engineers at Transformative Technologies to arrive, he ordered four new synthetically produced uncut kaiburr crystals. Nox believed The Force was with him. At about the same time that the Sith lord received his four dark red cylindrical crystals, by courier a month later, he also received the completed components from Transformative Technologies.

In addition to the components fabricated by his engineers, Nox also received the prototype sabrestaff he took to his engineers. However, he also received a newly fabricated refined version of the sabrestaff hilt, with the improved locking/unlocking mechanism, all based on Andronikos’ design. The engineers even added a nice touch, staining the highly polished metal a very nice gun metal blue.

Nox set his components aside and turned to inspecting each of the four cylindrical artificial gem stones. Each artificial kaiburr crystal cost him an astounding one hundred ninety two thousand credits. The incredible cost per crystal was owed to the level of perfection in the crystalline lattices of each example. The fact that his custom fabricated crystals were larger than the standard size for such crystals also added greatly to the cost. The four crystals were rated to be one hundred percent free of any imperfections. They were about the size of the stoppers used for wine bottles but with a two millimeter wider diameter.

To protect the synthetic kaiburr crystals from the huge surges of energy emitted from the plasma emitters, Nox ordered hundreds of kilograms of translucent black tektite stones. Of the massive collection of translucent tektite that he received in the shipment, he found a half dozen stones that could be cut to the proper dimensions and polished to mirror finishes on both sides of the resulting discs.

Of great importance to him was that each of the two discs, which he would eventually settle on using, had no imperfections. They were perfect in the evenness of their very, very dark translucency, perfectly even in their polished mirror finish, and perfectly symmetrical in their dimensions.

Each disc was perfectly three millimeters thick at each area of the discs where thickness was measured. The polished surfaces aligned with their crystalline orientation. This ensured that the crystalline structure was not at an angle relative to the direction of flow of energy as it passed through the black, darkly translucent discs.

The black translucency of the tektite material is what gave Nox’s saber beams their unusually dark red color. Without these disks, the synthetic kaiburr crystals would not keep their sharp edged cuts, and would deteriorate over time from the assault of the massive amounts of unfiltered energy flowing through them from the plasma emitters. These tektite crystal discs were the secret of Nox’s lightsaber and sabrestaff constructions.

It was because of these dark discs that the very high energy plasma streams from the plasma emitters would be perfectly prefiltered. This ensured that the filtering kaiburr crystal would receive an already smoothly uniform, ultra dark stream of plasma energy without reducing the power throughput. The prefiltered plasma energies would be further refined and sent on to the second focusing beam emitter kaiburr crystal.

It was from the focusing beam emitter kaiburr crystal that the energies would be projected in a focused beam of deep red plasma which could stretch for many kilometers. Any combustible materials affected by this beam of plasma energy would instantly burst into wild flames as the beam swept across the materials, like a laser. However, the focused plasma beams of each emitter were not allowed to project unrestricted.

The plasma beams were captured and concentrated into very narrow shafts of magnetic fields. They were restricted to only one meter in length and three centimeters wide at the base and two centimeters at the tip of the beam. The magnetic fields were what gave the beams their solid forms as projected by the magnetic force field generator coils.

This was how the deep red, perfectly smooth, highly stable, and uniform saber beams were formed. The concentration of the plasma energies in that confined space was how the very high energy throughputs were achieved, making the beam capable of cutting through meter-thick durasteel plate armor.

If the magnetic force field generator coil was not properly designed, or if the calibration of the coil was off and not matched for the energy output of the plasma emitter, then the beam would manifest as a turbulent and rough saber beam. Such saber beams were very eye pleasing and even intimidating, but energy throughput would have to be sacrificed for such aesthetics. This is because some of the heat energy would not make contact with the material that needed to be burned through.

Most lightsaber designs had two filtering kaiburr crystals, and then a highly polished and extremely pure ultra-clear optical crystal lens to focus the saber beam for the magnetic force field generator coil. Nox chose to use a different but well established design concept.

In his design, the second kaiburr crystal was cut to not only filter the plasma stream but to also act as the focusing lens. As a result the beam emitters of his weapon had no optical crystal focusing lens. They were just open ports from which the saber beams projected. As with all lightsabers and sabrestaves, the port shroud contained the magnetic force field generator coil.

If Nox were to put his weapon up for sale in the very limited market, he could easily command several million credits for it. Nox’s sabrestaff design, with practice, could very quickly be separated into twin lightsabers, and then just as quickly reassembled into its staff configuration.

While this concept was not new, what was different about his weapon was the use of tektite crystals as prefilters and the overpowered but cool operating plasma emitters and power cores. Nox was in a very enviable position of having access to engineers who could fabricate high powered, high quality purpose made components.

Most Sith and Jedi who constructed their own weapons normally turned to used component vendors to purchase off the shelf parts with normal performance ratings in their own lightsaber designs. These off the shelf components came from sources such as plasma emitters from old blaster pistols, power cores from portable handheld welding torches, and stripped down magnetic levitation generator coils modified to act as force field generators.

Each finished lightsaber hilt, in Nox’s design, was a hefty four kilograms which included the weight of the oversized and very dense power cores within each of the twin lightsaber hilts. With the twin weapons joined as a sabrestaff, the weight was a solid eight kilograms. The hefty weight was also owed to the thickness of the metal walls enclosing the internals of each hilt, which lent to the weapon’s solidness.

The metal rods of his sabrestaff simulator weighed twenty two kilograms each! Together with the sabrestaff hilt, the simulated weight of Nox’s weapon, with both saber beams in operation, was an incredible fifty two kilograms!

The heavy weight of the rods simulated the resistant force created when the magnetic force field generator coils were in operation. It was why the weapons were almost exclusively used by trained Force users. It required the use of The Force to overcome that force to nimbly maneuver the weapons during combat.

The Force user had to exert several times the weight of the resistance, plus the weight of the hilt in order to effectively wield it. In Nox’s case, he easily exerted between twenty to twenty five times the fifty two kilograms of force required to overcome the static force which tended to keep the weapon immobile when the twin magnetic force field generators were activated, but this was on par with other Force users who were armed with sabrestaves. The same effects applied to lightsabers, but the required force needed to overcome it was generally half as much.

The reasons for training with a simulator rather than his real weapon was that, first, it did not glow the way a lightsaber would, and thus his enemies and rivals would not be clued in as to which of his estates he was at while on Dromund Kaas.

Many times in the past, Nox enjoyed the night time view of Kaas City with his deceased wife, Ashara Zavros. Together, they would look at the sea of city lights from the patio deck of one of their homes in Kaas City. On those many occasions, the two would play a game, where the object was to spot the glow of lightsabers as anonymous Sith lords trained with their weapons in their homes.

“Let’s see who’ll find the most hidden Sith,” he’d say, as a challenge to his late wife.

They would then compete, searching for evidence of lightsaber training coming from a tiny handful out of the many millions of windows from the thousands of residential towers. Their view of the Kaas City skyline was quite spectacular. From their penthouse perch atop their residential tower, they could see thousands of residential and commercial towers. There were so many windows from which so many different colors of light shown out in the night time hours.

He and Ashara found quite a few Sith by playing that game, spotting them from many city blocks away, or even from a couple of kilometers away. The glow of the anonymous Sith lords’ weapons could be seen from the windows of their condominiums, or from the patios of their distant penthouse homes. The two would laugh as they joked of Jedi living in their city when they’d spot a blue or green saber beam, from time to time.

The joke was especially funny to the couple because Ashara was once a Jedi, and although she was Sith, she adhered to her modified version of the Jedi and Sith codes. One of her weapons was her Jedi weapon, with a blue saber beam.

Very early in their relationship, when she was only his apprentice, Nox had gifted her with a quality lightsaber, which he had fabricated himself. This was before his discovery of tektite crystals, so the weapon sported a brilliant red beam. He thought she would retire her old Jedi weapon after receiving the superior weapon.

Instead, she took to dual wielding the weapons. Like her stubborn adherence to her combined Jedi and Sith philosophical views, she chose to arm herself with both a Jedi and a Sith weapon.

Then one night, in their Dromund Tower home, two years before her death, as they played another round of their game, he realized this could be one way that his enemies could determine when he or Ashara Zavros were present at any one of their homes, making it easier for their enemies to get at them when their guard was down. The two practiced their lightsaber and sabrestaff combat skills in the reception halls of their penthouse homes. At that time, Nox owned five properties in Kaas City, and six others scattered around Dromund Kaas.

On the patio of Dromund Tower, Nox turned back to look at the east facing wall. It was one continuous slab of permaglass, from floor to ceiling and spanning the entire width of the penthouse. The interior was brightly lit, and everything inside was visible. During training, their saber beams would act as a kind of beacon, alerting their neighbors, rivals, and potential enemies, watching their palatial penthouse residence that they were home.

Although he owned many residences in Kaas City and around Dromund Kaas, his primary residence was Dromund Tower. It was where he, Ashara Zavros and their two small children preferred to live, their favorite home. Nox and Ashara were always eager to return home, to Dromund Tower, to their two small children and the children’s nanny droid, after completing their missions in the early days of his time on the Dark Council. It was their largest home, and the children loved running and playing in the spacious residence.

After the attack, meant to kill him at Dromund Tower, he began to randomly choose which of his residences he would live, never staying for longer than a month at any one. He began doing this to keep his enemies guessing where he was residing at any time.

Training with an ignited lightsaber, however, would tell his enemies which of his homes he was at, and thus the reason for his sabrestaff simulator. A determined enemy could eventually pinpoint which of his homes he was at without his sabrestaff giving his location away, but why make it easier for his foes to find him?

The other reason he started using his simulator was that it greatly reduced damage to his real estate properties. In the past, he’s had to make many expensive repairs to his residences, because of a miscalculated move that would end up burning gashes deep into walls, and floors, severing plumbing, electrical or data lines. Sometimes he’d accidentally flash a piece of furniture into flames.

One day, shortly after having fabricated it, he was training with his new weapon simulator in the reception hall of one of his smaller homes. He accidentally destroyed a priceless irreplaceable oil painting mounted on a wall. On another occasion, this time in Dromund Tower, he accidentally smashed another priceless piece of art.

It was a bust carved from mahogany obsidian stone of Emperor Vitiate when he yet lived in his own body as a Sith Pureblood! It was his true identity before he became incorporeal! This was the only known likeness of the nearly immortal former emperor when he was a mortal. The bust was set on a stand at the side of the reception hall.

The two accidents caused him to suffer several hundreds of millions of credits in lost personal worth. Since then, he conducted all of his training out in the patio.

Based on characteristics that he wanted for the saber beams of his new weapon, Nox calculated the angles of the cuts the cylindrical synthetic gem stones would each undergo. He programmed the angles of each facet into a simulation program. This program helped him to design the best geometric angles of each facet of the synthetic crystal in order to produce the hottest and most focused beam for each saber hilt of his new weapon. Yet, Nox had to be careful not make the beams too narrow.

A beam that was too narrow would be extremely energetic, but present less surface contact area to transfer heat energy. Of course, if the beam were too wide, the energy density of the surface area would be too low, but it would also destroy the weapon, as the over wide beams would come into contact with the beam emitter port shroud where the magnetic force field generator coil was housed. When he was sure of the calculations, he brought his ship droid to his starship, docked at the tiny spaceport in Kaas City.

Giving his droid the calculated dimensions for the cuts to be made, he said, “Input these numerical coordinates into the computer numerical control machine, then double check to be sure no errors were made when inputting the parameters.”

“Yes, Master,” 2V-R8 replied.

Nox followed the droid to the engineering department and stood silently as 2V-R8 set the CNC machine up for its task. Two crystals would be cut according to one set of programmed parameters, and the two remaining crystals would be cut using another set of parameters. The operation took twenty minutes to complete for each crystal.

Just over a month later, with all of the components completed and tested, it was time to put them all together. Assembling the power cores and plasma emitters and the tektite discs into their respective twin hilts was easy. Setting the synthetic kaiburr crystals was not easy. They had to be perfectly aligned. For this task, Nox had to use The Force.

The filtering kaiburr crystals had to be perfectly aligned with the plasma emitters and then locked in place with the crystal locking clamps. If perfect alignment was not assured, the energy stream would enter the crystal at an angle relative to the crystalline lattices of the crystals. This would cause refractions at a molecular scale, causing wear and tear of the crystal, degrading its performance over time.

The focusing kaiburr crystals, from which the saber beams would actually be emitted, had to be perfectly aligned not only with the filtering kaiburr crystals, installed earlier, but with the beam emitter shroud port. Improper alignment would result in the plasma energies accumulating unevenly within the magnetic force field, giving uneven temperatures at different parts of the saber beam.

It was a very difficult task to perform, and the best way to achieve perfect accuracy was through The Force. Through The Force, the Jedi or the Sith lord assembling their weapons could see at the atomic level, clearly identifying the crystalline lattices and the facets of their cut crystals. This allowed them to make the ultra-fine adjustments needed to achieve perfect alignment, and to perfectly clamp the crystals into place.

This process could not be easily done by machine, even if controlled by the most powerful computers, which was why lightsabers were always handcrafted weapons, never produced on an assembly line. This level of perfection was not a luxury; it was a necessity. It wouldn’t do to have a lightsaber that destroyed itself in a matter of months, because the crystals were not perfectly aligned.

Nox had ordered a one meter cubed block of granite some weeks prior to completing his weapons build. He brought one of his captured lightsabers which had a similar weight to the separated hilts of his new weapon. Standing in front of the solid block of granite on the floor of his lab, he activated the captured lightsaber. Its rough green saber beam projected from the perfectly transparent optical focusing lens mounted in the bottom of the emitter shroud port.

The turbulent beam had a rough raspy hum which spoke of the weapon’s raw unrefined power. This contrasted to the smooth and well defined lines of the deep red beams of Nox’s twin weapons. It produced a much smoother deep hum as the plasma of the saber beams boiled the atmosphere coming into contact with them.

Nox thought of his captured weapon’s simple and effective design as a nice piece of work. However, in his opinion, the dead Jedi had missed opportunities for refinements which could have better realized the weapon’s full potential.

He tipped the blade downward and grasping the hilt with a feather touch, allowed gravity to pull the weight of the hilt down. As the rough green beam burned its way into the granite block, bright red glowing molten rock oozed up out of the bore hole.

Three brief seconds later, Nox stopped the blade from sinking deeper into the rock and shut the weapon off. He measured the depth at fifteen centimeters. He was impressed. Nox walked away from the stone block and busied himself with some work as he waited for the block of granite to cool off.

When the stone block had cooled, returning to ambient temperature, Nox used The Force to flip the granite block to another surface before repeating the same test with his new weapon. He had separated the twin hilts and tested each one, allowing the granite block to cool again before flipping the block to another clean surface and performing the test a third time. In three seconds one of the twins burned its way down twenty centimeters, while the other twin scorched its way down twenty three centimeters into the solid granite block.

Nox was immensely pleased with the performance of his twin weapons, but also slightly disappointed that the weapons’ performances showed a difference of three centimeters. It meant there was a deficiency in the plasma emitter, the power core, or the magnetic force field generator coil of the weaker twin. He was so very painstakingly exact with his work on the crystals and in setting the crystals in their respective hilts that he refused to consider the possibility that there might have been a slight flaw in his own work.

Nox had 2V-R8 engrave a simple pattern to decorate and differentiate between the twins. He finished off the engraving work, by having the droid inlay brass into the thin groves of the pattern. The weapon was quite striking to look at, with its gun metal blue finish and simple filigree pattern done in inlaid brass to decorate it. The better performing weapon would become his main hand weapon, and the other, undecorated twin, would become his offhand weapon.

After five years, Nox had long ago gotten accustomed to the eight kilogram weapon hanging from his utility belt. His utility belt did more than just hold his weapons and have compartments for his equipment and supplies. The belt had a built in load balancing field generator. It didn’t reduce the weight of his equipment, but automatically created a field that shifted the balance of the belt, so that the weight rested evenly on the wearer’s hips.

The dark lord ended his lightsaber combat training routine, simulating the powering down of both hilts. Then, in one fluid motion, he expertly joined them back together as he brought the simulator sabrestaff to his side, holding the training weapon in place as though he had secured it to his utility belt. Thus, he brought to an end his biweekly hours-long grueling regimen of exercises. Needless to say, he was exhausted and drenched in sweat.

However, rather than lie on his back on the white stone tiles of his patio to catch his breath, Darth Nox sat, crossing his legs as though to meditate. The dark lord gently set his fifty two kilogram simulated weapon onto the stone tile in front of him. He looked off to the Dromund Kaas skyline as the first rays of the morning sun, rising behind his residential building, began to glint off of the east facing windows of the towering buildings.

As the star rose in the sky, the red rays of the early morning star gradually spread down the towers, igniting windows as they too reflected the light of Dromund Kaas’ star. The red rays gradually shifted to a golden brilliance as the light continued to creep down to the lower levels of the buildings of Kaas City.

However, Nox was not taking in the beauty of the scene. Nor was he delighting in the serenity of the moment. He was instead intently staring at the one towering building which had no golden reflections of Dromund Kaas’ rising star. The building seemed dark compared to the others. It seemed dead compared to the others.

It was Dromund Tower, his old home. The soot staining the tower’s exterior, where the fires consumed the uppermost floors, seemed to swallow up the rays of the morning sun, leaving a dark and seemingly hollowed out spot in the otherwise golden cityscape glowing in the early morning sunlight.

It was a perfect allegory to Nox’s heart. Twenty three months ago, his two small children died in the bombing attack and resulting fire, leaving a blackened hole in his heart. The attack was perpetrated by pirates of the Exchange Gang who’d been hired by Darth Acina, Darth Nox’s nemesis at the time. Nox’s face creased in anger, as he imagined Acina watching, from this very patio, the destruction of his home.

In the end, however, he had utterly crushed her powerbase, killing most of her followers and destroying her legacy. Nox’s ruthless and overwhelming response to the attack perpetrated against him saved his own legacy from being attacked and destroyed by others on the Dark Council who may otherwise been led to believe that his powerbase had been greatly weakened by Acina’s attacks.

Additionally, his final battle against Acina also served as a demonstration of his own personal power and as a lasting warning to the others on the Dark Council not to cross him. He brutalized her, incinerating her flesh with the fury of his Force Lightning attacks, breaking her bones with his unmerciful attacks as he slammed her with powerful compressed waves of telekinetic energy.

His use of The Force was so overwhelming, that members of the Dark Council had to guard themselves from the spillover of his attacks while they witnessed, in growing fear, this demonstration of his control of The Force. His cruelty while destroying his enemy, even as he unmercifully refused to grant her a quick death, was an indication to his peers on the Dark Council of what to expect from him, if they crossed him, too.

The top twelve stories of the building had been destroyed by fire including Nox’s two story palace atop the two hundred and forty story building twenty three months ago. After all of that time, the insurance group responsible for insuring the real estate property, had finally completed settling the claims of the deed holders who’d once occupied or leased out the destroyed units, including Darth Nox’s claim for his two story penthouse. With that, the demolition crews had finally begun work to partially dismantle the tower.

As for the furnishings, tapestries, trophies, and treasure lost to him in the fires, all worth well over eight hundred million credits, Nox had to hire an army of accountants and attorneys to be sure that his claims were properly settled with several different insurance groups which had insured all of his stuff.

As was the custom among Sith locked in blood feuds, after defeating Darth Acina, Nox had taken all of Acina’s personal assets as prizes of war, including her palatial residence which he now occupied. He had completely remodeled her three story penthouse palace at the top of a very exclusive two hundred and ninety story residential tower on the eastern end of Kaas City.

His great victory over a hated enemy was not what was on his mind, however. Neither was the enormous wealth he’d attained at the end of his Kaggath. Instead, he sat somberly on the veranda of her former palace, numbly staring at his old ruined home and thinking of his two dead children who’d been murdered by Acina when she firebombed Dromund Tower.

“Come here, R8,” Nox commanded in a low and somber tone.

In a very short while, 2V-R8 emerged onto the patio, which could only be accessed from the master suite on the topmost level of his three story penthouse. The ship droid approached Nox where he sat cross-legged, in the center of the expansive patio staring off into the distance. When the droid had come to a stop, standing next to its master, Nox spoke.

“Contact the property management firm in charge of Dromund Tower. Tell them I want to speak to them.”

“Yes, Master,” 2V-R8 replied in its artificially cheerful tone, “I will call them as soon as their offices are open for business.”

“Yes. That’s fine,” Nox replied.

A slight smirk developed on his face, as he recalled that most of Kaas City was just beginning to wake from their slumber.

“Prepare my breakfast, I shall not be long in the fresher,” Nox told his droid.

“At once, Master!” 2V-R8 said, and artificially enthusiastically promised, “I shall prepare a most delicious and nutritious meal to complement your robust physical training this morning!”

Nox broke his promise, he spent considerable time in the fresher, enjoying the pulsating beats of the shower as it massaged his shoulder and back muscles. He couldn’t resist, and got in the hot tub for additional relaxation in the water jets. He emerged fresh, relaxed, fully dressed in his blood red medium grade, flexible armor with deep black accents and markings, ready for another glorious day. This time, his hair was set in a folded top knot set at the back of his head.

He set his utility belt on the table a few seats away from where his breakfast was set, taking his real sabrestaff to his seat. As he sat, he set his weapon onto the table just beyond his breakfast dishes. 2V-R8 then removed the plate covers, revealing Nox’s breakfast.

As Nox began to dig in, he asked his droid, “Who has sent messages for me?”

2V-R8 began to list the names of persons who’d left messages for him, along with a very short summary of the topic. When Nox heard a name or a topic he thought important, he stopped the droid, telling it, “I’ll hear that message.”

The messages were given in the order that they had come in, so it was some time before 2V-R8 said Darth Marr’s name.

“I’ll hear that message,” Nox told his ship droid.

The holographic image of Darth Marr, in miniature, appeared on Nox’s breakfast table, just past his breakfast dishes, and immediately began to speak.

“It is most egregious, what you have done, Nox!”

It was rare for Marr to refer to Nox without his title. So, the dark lord knew that Marr was quite furious about something, and Nox was pretty sure what it was about. A sneer slowly stretched across his features as he chewed his breakfast.

“I do not know what you think you will accomplish, but it completely throws off our strategy for our coming reemergence from hiding! Return my call immediately!”

Nox had a mouth full of food, and gave a few chuckles as he chewed.

“Hmmmph! Hmmph! Hmmph!”

“So!” Nox thought, excited and amused, “It seems that Moff Pyron has made his move and has taken Marr completely off guard!”

Nox wanted to go over his strategy for the coming offensive with Moff Pyron, when he finally met with him face to face, but he knew that the Moff would likely have his own ideas about what to do, and Nox was ready to accept whatever that strategy was.

Valion Pyron was one of the winningest strategists that the Imperial military fielded.

“Losing the winningest strategists must have stung Marr very badly,” Nox thought, smirking as he chewed his next bite of food.

It was Pyron’s track record of victories that led Grand Moff Regis to award him with command of two full army groups and two full navy groups, three armies and three navies in each group.

It was the single largest military command in the Imperial military that was not tied to governorship of a star system and its populated planets. Yet, Nox worried this force was woefully inadequate to wage an all-out offensive against the Galactic Republic. Nox remembered the last conversation he had with Valion Pyron on the moff’s flagship the Doombringer.

Moff Pyron had said as much to him, telling Nox that he would need to recruit a few other moffs to add their commands to his. Nox worried that still might not be enough. He also worried that Marr’s forces would be orders of magnitudes larger than his own, even if the majority of those forces were on loan to Marr from the other dark lords on the Dark Council.

“How will I enforce my claim to the throne if I can’t even present a credible military presence to my rivals?” he asked himself, and then answering his own question, “That’s what this is about. As I win victories, I’ll gain greater support from the military. My forces will grow, and I will be able to expand the offensive.”

Over the next two hours, Nox listened to several other messages, making quick notes for actions to take to fix whatever problems the messages were about.

2V-R8 told Nox, “Master, the Imperial Dromund Kaas Property Management Company president is on hold, waiting to speak to you.”

“What does he want?” Nox asked.

“You wanted me to contact them, Master. They are the property management company for Dromund Tower.”

“Ah! Yes! I’ll take the call in my third office,” Nox said, rising from his breakfast and taking his weapon and utility belt with him.

Seated at his desk in his third office, Nox told the droid, still in the kitchen cleaning up, “Put the call through.”

The miniature holographic images of two business men, kneeling, appeared over his office desk.

“Dark Lord, my name is Patrous Khang. I am the president of the Imperial Dromund Kaas Property Management Company, and this is my associate, Megasto Panno. He is vice president, overseeing the Business Development Operations of the Imperial Dromund Kaas Property Management Company. We are deeply honored to be contacted by you regarding your inquiry for a business arrangement. How may we be of service?”

“How many floors are you rebuilding, and have any of them been sold?” Nox asked.

The two men knew that Nox was the previous owner of the two story penthouse palace. They believed that the dark lord was probably going to inquire about selling him the new penthouse. However, the property management firm had decided on other plans for the penthouse.

“Dark Lord, we’ve barely started the demolition work. So, we haven’t begun to advertise, much less sell any of the properties. The rebuilding plans call for a total of twelve reconstructed floors. Additionally, we’ve decided to develop the penthouse into two separate penthouse suites.” the vice president of Business Development Operations of the Imperial Dromund Kaas Property Management Company, Megasto Panno, answered.

“Is that so?” Nox responded, seemingly with great interest.

“Yes, Dark Lord,” the president of the Imperial Dromund Kaas Property Management Company, Patrous Khang, replied, adding, “It will take some time before the work is done. The top twelve floors have to be deconstructed, and then rebuilt with all new materials. It will be a long process of some months.”

“That’s great news,” Nox said, “Sell them all to me.”

The two businessmen looked at each other with some astonishment and worry, which Nox could plainly see in their holographic images.

“You don’t think I can pay for it?” Nox asked conversationally, but in actuality, he was offended that the two men would express doubts about his wealth.

“Dark Lord, there are twelve floors total. The lower floors will each have four units, and the top two floors will be developed as two separate penthouses,” Megasto Panno said, truthfully, but then added the lie, “We planned to sell each unit, on the lower ten reconstructed floors, for twenty million and the penthouses for eighty million each.”

The two men were not in Nox’s presence, fortunately for them. However, Nox had no reason to doubt them. He could not sense their emotions via holo and could not tell they were attempting to cheat him. He quickly calculated the cost, coming up with a total, nine hundred sixty million credits. He could definitely pay it, but he didn’t want to pay that much.

“Sell the top two floors to me for sixty million each and design them as a single, two story penthouse unit, and sell the remaining units to me for sixteen million each,” Nox said, in his counter offer.

The two men calculated what that would be. They came up with seven hundred sixty million credits. In actuality, they had planned to sell each unit for fourteen million and the penthouses for fifty six million each.

The two property management executives had expected to earn six hundred seventy two million credits as wealthy Imperial citizens, from all across the Sith Empire, purchased individual units over a short period of less than a month from the time they began to advertise. Now, however, there was no need to advertise.

Since Darth Nox was about to buy all of the units from them in one fell swoop, and being that he sat on the Dark Council, Megasto expected the dark lord would pay it all at once. Originally, the two of them would have split ten million in commissions. However, he and his partner now stood to earn an additional seventy eight million more from the sale than the two businessmen had anticipated.

Additionally, since advertising and marketing were no longer required, Megasto planned to keep the money that had been allocated for that purpose, twenty million credits. Megasto and Patrous would now split one hundred eight million credits in total.

Patrous Khang, kept his sabacc face on, hiding the panic that caused his heart to leap into hyperspace. He didn’t want to take any more risks, so he spoke before his associate could try to ask for more.

“It is acceptable, Dark Lord, the property management executive said, to the chagrin of his associate, “It is not as much as we had hoped to make, but it will still be profitable.”

Nox felt smug, thinking, “Ha! I got a great deal!”

Before ending the business meeting, Nox gave them the contact information for his slave accountant, Yannos Kanton Bae, a man he had captured on Alderaan during a military campaign on that planet years ago. They would send the deeds for each property upon receiving payment to his accountant.

Nox smiled smugly, pleased about his latest real estate acquisition.

As soon as the connection ended, Patrous whirled to his right and unloaded on Megasto.

“What in the Nine Hells were you thinking?!” Patrous exploded on his associate, “He’s a dark lord on the Dark Council! He could have our whole families hauled away to become slaves on some forsaken prison labor world at the edge of the galaxy somewhere – if he didn’t decide to order our executions instead!!”

“Think about it, Pat,” Megasto countered, reasonably, “He’s a dark councilor. He’s not spending his own money. He’s got bottomless Imperial government pockets to dip into. Now the property owner will get his money, while you and I will get our original commission, plus we’ll get to split ninety eight million credits as our bonus, on top of our ten million in commission,” Megasto made air quotes when he said bonus.

“All Nine Hells, Meg! You’re a dangerous maniac! You want to cheat, not one, but two members of the Dark Council?!!”

Darth Vowrawn had purchased the burned out floors of Dromund Tower for a steal. The insurance group which had recently settled all of the real property claims of the deed holders of the destroyed units, was finally in a position to sell the floors, or individual units. The group was desperate to recover their losses. Vowrawn made an offer to buy everything from them in one sale, which the insurance group, gladly accepted, recovering seventy percent of their losses.

Vowrawn decided to work with the Imperial Dromund Kaas Property Management Company, which were already the property managers of Dromund Tower, to redevelop and then to sell the individual units, making a huge profit. He was certain that wealthy Imperials would climb over each other for a chance to buy homes in Kaas City. The very wealthy, seeking closer ties with government bureaucrats, would claw over each other for a chance to live in Kaas City, the seat of the Imperial government.

Unlike, Nox, who actually used his own money, Vowrawn dipped into his sphere of influence’s budget to make the purchase. He had a plan for laundering the Imperial funds, too, growing his net worth. Neither Sith lord would ever learn that each had conducted business with the other. The property owner was anonymous, and the buyer was also anonymous.

Pleased with himself, Nox left his third office in which he conducted personal business, which was any business relating to his personal finances, and his private business interests. He walked several meters down the hall, on the second floor of his penthouse residence, walking past another office. His second office was dedicated to his work directing the Sphere of Ancient Knowledge. This was one of the offices where he worked from home if he didn’t feel like going to The Citadel. Nox had other such offices in his other residences.

He had another office, on that floor, which he called his first office. Here, he conducted official and unofficial government business, not relating to the Sphere of Ancient Knowledge, but related to his goals of realizing his ambition of ascending the throne and becoming emperor.

Upon entering this office, he walked to his desk and immediately got to work, opening a computer file that contained his plans for his military offensive. His plan took into account that he would have, at minimum, six full armies and six full navies to command, but possibly as many as twelve armies and twelve navies, depending on how many moffs, Pyron managed to recruit.

Unlike his private business offices and his work from home offices, which he had in multiple residences, Nox had no other office which served this particular function in any of his other residences. Some of what he did in this office could be construed as treason, and he didn’t want to have so many records of treason or other criminal activity for his enemies to exploit. From all of his residences, offices, and computers, this was the only office where he kept his plans to seize the throne.

The dark lord carefully studied Moff Pyron’s military strength, and reviewed his strategy for relaunching the offensive. Although, theoretically, he could attack two star systems in two separate operations with these forces, while keeping a third of his forces in the reserve, he decided not to split his forces in such a manner. Instead, he opted to use overwhelming power to sweep through and crush the enemy.

Nox decided that attacking a single star system with four armies and four navies, leaving nothing but rubble in his wake, one star system at a time was the way to go. He would keep two armies and navies in the reserve. Also, he would then force Marr to take over operations, fielding occupation forces to defend Imperial gains and to pacify the conquered populations, allowing Nox to move on to the next star system.

Pyron wanted to recruit others to join him in support of Nox’s offensive operations, but the dark lord had warned Pyron not to expose himself to possible betrayal. As such, Nox’s plans called for operations to take place on two worlds in a single star system at a time, and no more than four worlds in the same star system. It was a very conservative approach, which would permit him to execute his offensive operations with incredible destructive violence at an incredibly fast pace.

The idea was that as he won victories, more moffs would join his offensive, and he would be able to expand and replicate the strategy to more than a few star systems at a time. The speed and destruction would be such that Republic worlds that found themselves in his path would sue for peace and surrender rather than face annihilation.

How big of a start he got, however, depended on how successful Valion Pyron was in recruiting a few other moffs to join him. That was the only unknown, a rather large unknown that he had to deal with. With those questions out of the way, all that was left for him to do was to decide where to start, and Nox was convinced the best place to begin was with the re-conquest of Balmorra, and the razing of Corellia.

Retaking Balmorra from the Republic would substantially deny them the ability to rapidly replace damaged and destroyed war droids, as well as reduce their wartime heavy manufacturing capability for that region of the galaxy, while substantially increasing the Empire’s capabilities in those same areas.

As for Corellia, Nox knew that re-conquering that world would be next to impossible. Corellia was conquered, the first time around, with the cooperation of the local Corellian government, alongside several thousands of corporations, who’d all fallen in line after the board members of several large corporations were arrested and very publicly executed as examples of what would happen to those who failed to cooperate with the Empire.

For good measure, the corporate office buildings, the manufacturing facilities, and warehouses of those uncooperative executed corporate executives were utterly destroyed with bombardments from imperial warships in orbit. The pinpoint accuracy of the, very, singled out corporations served as examples of how individual businesses could be punished. The shareholders of those businesses had also felt the pain of the attacks as the value of their shares evaporated in very short order. Tens of millions of shareholders lost their life savings, or came close to financial ruin.

The Corellian government and the corporations headquartered on Corellia had come to understand that if their world became a battlefield, that it would suffer utter ruin as the city world would be razed to the ground at the hands of the Sith Empire. By surrendering to the Empire, the war damage could be substantially limited, and after the war, they could rebuild and recover their losses. They knew the Galactic Republic would not do such an evil thing, razing an entire city world. In the end, they chose to surrender to the Sith Empire rather than fight.

The capitulation of Corellia had taken the Galactic Republic central government on Coruscant by complete surprise. Kallig’s campaign to capture Corellia ended in complete success.

However, the machinations of unknown actors began to unravel the Empire’s very quick victory when Darth Vengean, the author of the conquest of Corellia and the dark lord who sat over the Sphere of Military Offense, was assassinated. Many believed his follower, Darth Baras, had done it because there was never any other suspect. However, there was never any evidence to prove the murder was his doing.

Then Darth Thanaton recklessly conducted his Kaggath on Corellia against Kallig, Lord of the Sith. The Empire had yet to have Corellia firmly in its grasp, when Thanaton’s foolishness caused extensive damage to Imperial military units still engaged in operations against Corellian resistance forces. These rebellion forces were organized by labor unions and by local law enforcement agencies, not by the local Corellian government.

Taking Corellia however, in Nox’s opinion, was not going to happen a second time. This time, the Galactic Republic had taken measures to defend against invasion. However, as the center of naval ship building for the Republic Navy, Corellia could not be ignored. Nox decided the best course of action to take was to do to Corellia what Darth Malak had done to Taris three hundred years before.

The first phase of his strategy was the re-conquest of several worlds the Empire had won, and then lost, or were in the process of losing again. The initial part of his operations would be centered on recapturing lost territory, and to crush the Republic’s efforts to retake other territories that the Empire had initially taken from them. The next phase of his campaign would be to expand the war and to conquer new territories. Nox saved the changes he’d made to his strategy in the computer file.

Next on his agenda was to call Darth Marr and confront him about Moff Pyron and the two, three, or four Moffs he’d managed to take with him. In the end, however, Darth Nox decided not to return Marr’s call. It promised to be more trouble than it was worth.

“Let him stew,” Nox thought with a smirk.

However, Darth Nox had one more problem to deal with. It would prove to be a significant obstacle to his ambitions.

Darth Arkous.

Darth Arkous was the dark lord whose sphere of influence was Military Offense. He was newly elevated to the post by the Dark Council. Darth Marr, whose sphere of influence is Military Defense, had been running both spheres of influence because of Darth Vengean’s assassination.

The Republic had run a series of counter offensives that saw them make impressive inroads towards recapturing planets they’d lost to the Empire in the Sith Empire’s surprise offensive. With Vengean’s assassination, the Sphere of Military Offense was leaderless, and lacked focus. Moffs, conducting operations in several theaters of operations, did not coordinate with each other and at times were at cross purposes with one another.

Darth Marr was forced to take over control of the Sphere of Military Offense, in order to bring continuity to the Empire’s prosecution of the war. In recognition that the responsibilities of the war were too big for one leader to handle alone, the Dark Council elevated a Sith Lord whose war record was proven, with many victories. Darth Arkous was that Sith lord.

Marr was preparing to hand off the major offensive operations of the war to Arkous, but that would put an end to Nox’s ambition to run the offensive war effort on his way to the Imperial throne. Nox had attempted to divert Arkous to the Sphere of Sith Intelligence, in order to keep the seat for the Sphere of Military Offense open.

He had the backing of Darth Ravage and Darth Mortis, and nearly convinced Darth Vowrawn and Darth Aruk. However, Darth Zash, sensing that Nox was after something, decided to throw a wrench in his very convincing argument to seat Darth Arkous on the Sphere of Sith Intelligence. In the end, the vote went in favor of Darth Marr’s motion, making the vote five to three in favor of seating Darth Arkous over the Sphere of Military Offense, and five to three against Nox’s motion to seat Arkous over the Sphere of Sith Intelligence.

Nox was furious at Zash for interfering, but he kept a neutral expression and held his tongue. He didn’t want to tip his rivals off that he might have plans to seize control of part of the military beyond his own forces, for his own purposes.

For the first time Nox, very seriously, considered assassination to rid himself of an obstacle as a necessity in this case.

“Darth Arkous must have an unfortunate accident,” Nox thought.

He thought back to when Zash was a lord of the Sith, and she plotted the assassination of Darth Skotia. Thinking back to that time, he realized that if the Dark Council really cared, they could have exerted a greater effort and committed more resources into the investigation of Skotia’s death.

However, the Dark Council didn’t really care about Darth Skotia. He wasn’t a dark councilor. Darth Arkous, on the other hand, is a dark councilor. His murder, especially with the Imperial throne empty, would cause a great deal of alarm and panic within the dark council.

Nox knew he would probably be the very first to be suspected because of his strong stance opposing the seating of Arkous over the Sphere of Military Offense. He would be especially suspect after taking control of offensive military operations against the Galactic Republic, which was Arkous’ purview. That would reveal his motive, and would turn the entire council against him. Nox would then be forced to give up his ambition for the throne as he would then be focused on just surviving the Dark Council’s unified front to take him down.

“R8, contact Keeper. Tell him to report to me in person for consultations,” Nox ordered his droid.

2V-R8 was in another part of the penthouse palace performing its household tasks.

“Yes, Master,” the droid’s voice said via the house intercom system.

In fact, the droid was connected to the intercom systems in all of Nox’s residences and his starship in this same fashion. It was a great convenience to the dark lord and his inner circle of followers.

Darth Nox wanted to leverage Keeper’s unparalleled expertise in spy craft and covert operations, but he knew that Keeper was a patriot. Nox knew that he could spy and scheme any which way and that Keeper would support him, so long as no harm came to the Sith Empire. He needed to know whether Keeper would support him, or if Keeper’s patriotism would become a liability for him, forcing Nox to eliminate the spy master and his second on command, Watcher Two.

With that out of the way Nox left the First Office, which he thought of as the Office of the Road to the Imperial Throne. The dark lord walked some meters down the hall and entered his Office Away From The Citadel, the Second Office. There, he got back to work, immediately diving into a progress report from Darth Komo. Nox was pleased that his decision to rescue the Makebi peoples from their impending extinction proved to be most beneficial to the reclamation of Taris.

However, he was concerned that there was a small ungrateful element within the Makebi peoples who seemed to be agitating for rebellion. They were trying to convince the Makebi workers to go on a work stoppage campaign. ‘Going on strike,’ they called it.

Their goal was to obtain ridiculous political powers through forced negotiations. They wanted to organize elections of representative political principals who would negotiate the demands of the common Makebi refugee with their Sith rulers.

Fortunately, Nox’s foresight into this very possibility and his forward thinking in appointing Katha Niar to organize and establish a citizenship program had gone a very long way towards keeping the vast majority of the Makebis in line. They understood their new home was governed by a different set of laws, regulations, traditions, and beliefs. They wanted to prosper and were, therefore, reluctant to go along with this scheme of the rebels.

Another group had organized to counter the ridiculous proposals of the agitators. They argued in favor of conformity to their new reality. This group enjoyed the broad support of the Makebi peoples.

Shaking his head in disbelief, Nox expressed his incredulity.

“Where do they think they are, the Galactic Republic?”

Darth Komo’s recommendation was to allow the loyal counter group to drown out the agitators, and to use restraint when dealing with the dissidents after their arrests. Nox resolved to allow Komo to handle the matter. He seemed to have a good grasp on how to deescalate the unrest.

An hour later, 2V-R8’s cheerful voice came over the intercom.

“Keeper is waiting in the vestibule, Master. I am bringing your tea service.”

“Bring the tea to the First Office,” Nox ordered, “and bring Keeper there. I’ll be there, waiting.”

A short time later, the droid set the tray down on the side of Nox’s desk and poured Nox a cup.

Setting the teapot down, the droid announced, “I’ll go get Keeper, now, Master.”

2V-R8 turned about and made its way out of Nox’s office.

Down at the first level, at the entrance to Nox’s penthouse, Keeper swept his eyes around his immediate surroundings. He spotted two hidden video security recorders. He knew that despite being left alone in the vestibule, the droid who’d let him in was still monitoring him. After some time had passed, the droid had finally returned.

“I thought you’d forgotten about me here at the door,” Keeper said.

The spymaster knew that wasn’t the case, but saying random things like that to a droid could sometimes yield information.

“I apologize for keeping you, Master Keeper. It was time for my master’s tea service. I had to prepare it and bring it to his office. The dark lord will see you now. Please surrender your blasters and any electronic devices you have on your person. Place them on the stand, here,” the ship droid said, sweeping its mechanical hand to indicate the stand at the side of the vestibule.

With that, Keeper learned that the delay was not ordered by the dark lord, but rather by the droid’s priorities. If the droid had said anything that suggested that it had indeed forgotten him, then Keeper would know the droid was lying, which would mean that he was in trouble with the dark lord. Droids, unless specifically programmed with a complex assortment of protocols, algorithms, and specific subroutines were terrible liars.

Keeper obeyed the droid’s instructions without hesitation and completely, setting on the small stand two compact blaster pistols, his three heavily encrypted holo-transceivers, his two – also heavily encrypted – datapads, his wallet, and the keys to his sports speeder.

2V-R8 produced a device from a storage compartment in its chassis and used it to scan Keeper’s devices and then Keeper’s person. The scan revealed there were no signatures associated with spy tech on the spy master’s devices or his person. It also ruled out the presence of explosives.

“Please follow me to the dark lord’s office, Master Keeper,” the droid said in its preprogrammed friendly tone.

That his employer, Darth Nox, wanted to speak face to face in his private home was an indication to Keeper that Nox wanted something highly irregular of him, especially since he’d just met with Darth Nox in his office the previous morning, and that the dark lord did not say anything to him then.

However, Keeper refused to speculate on what his lord might ask of him. Instead, he swept his eyes everywhere.

Keeper took note that Nox’s residence was more of a museum of art and trophies, and was possibly more likely an artful storage warehouse than it was a luxurious residential palace. He noted the private speeder port outside of the wide permaglass sliding door. A modified speeder was parked there. It was one that was specially made for the dark lord to accommodate his Dashade attendant.

Up the stairs to the second level, Keeper followed the droid down the long hallway, and looked to his right, out of the window. The floor to ceiling window ran the full length of the hallway offering a panoramic view of the eastern side of Kaas City. The Citadel was not in view from this side, but it had just started to cast its early afternoon shadow on the smaller towers below. In fact, the dark lord’s tower was also in The Citadel’s shadow.

When he entered Nox’s office on his left, he expected it to be filled with other trophies, souvenirs, and mysterious Sithly knickknacks. Instead he found himself entering a professional business office setting. The droid entered behind him, walking to an alcove set up for the droid at the side of the office.

Keeper took a few steps to the center of the office and knelt before Nox’s desk, planting his fist onto the rug, covering the metal plate floor.

“The dark lord honors me greatly, allowing me into his august presence in his own home. How may I serve you, my dark lord?”

“Rise, Keeper,” Nox intoned.

When Keeper rose to his feet, he found Nox indicating a chair set at the side of the office.

“Bring that chair to the front of my desk and sit in it,” Nox ordered.

Keeper did as instructed, positioning the chair in front of Darth Nox’s desk. He sat, his face absolutely devoid of any indication of what might be swirling in his mind, waiting to see what Darth Nox would say. He spotted a tea service at the side of the dark lord’s desk, verifying that the droid had been truthful to him.

“2V-R8, conduct a thorough sweep for spying devices in this office,” Nox commanded.

“As you wish, Master,” the droid replied, cheerfully, as it began a full spectrum sweep for spy tech.

Nox and Keeper both remained silent while the droid spent five minutes scanning every nook and cranny in Nox’s office. Keeper was slightly astonished as the droid, not only scanned his person again, but Darth Nox as well, and the dark lord did not object, instead waiting patiently as the droid completed its task.

Nox reached for the teapot and pour tea into his cup, offering none to Keeper. Behind the dark lord was a floor to ceiling, wall to wall window, offering a view of Kaas City to the west, and the sky-piercing tower, The Citadel. It was an impressive view with Dromund, their star, hidden high up behind the tower. Keeper also took note of the beautiful greel wood sculpture holding up a sabrestaff in display.

“There are no anomalies, Master. I have found no indications that any listening or recording devices are active or dormant in this space. Also, there are no indications of transmitters or receivers, active or passive in this room. What else can I do for you, Master?”

“Stand in your alcove and wait for my instructions.”

“Yes, Master.”

Nox watched as the ship droid turned about and walked to its station. When the droid turned to face the interior of the office and became still Nox turned to face Keeper seated in front of his desk.

“As you can see, this place is clean. We can speak freely, here.”

A very uneasy feeling began to dampen Keeper’s mood upon hearing Nox say those words. He had a bad feeling Nox was going to ask him to do something dangerous and potentially treasonous. Sitting before the Dark Lord of The Sith, Keeper wondered what it would take to steer his dark lord clear of foolish adventures.

“The Imperial throne is empty. I know I’m not the only one making my move for it. You have to be aware of all of this. Yes?” Nox said, starting the conversation.

“I am aware, Dark Lord,” Keeper said in a neutral tone.

Keeper was actually greatly relieved that this was the topic on the dark lord’s mind. With the throne empty it would be natural for the dark councilors to be making their individual plays for it. This was something he anticipated, but he knew he needed to move carefully. With the throne empty, suspicions and fearful tensions were very high.

Keeper also noted that Nox had yet to mention his apprentice, which meant that the dark lord was unaware of her suspicious movements. Watcher Two was interviewing the Duros security consultant who’d provided his services to Darth Virulous. Later, Keeper would get her report about what she’d learned from the interview.

“I must make my move,” Nox told Keeper, “I need to know that I can count on you to support me when I do.”

Keeper knew that he had to speak carefully lest he offend his lord and lose his lord’s trust, but he felt it necessary to show Nox that he had been thinking about this, too.

“The dark lord must surround himself with wise men and women who will carry out your will, while doing no harm to the empire. If your ministers make mistakes, it could reflect poorly on you. If your ministers were incompetent, no matter how loyal, the Emperor would be seen in a bad light. Has the dark lord considered who would form his government when you have secured the throne for yourself?”

Nox blinked in surprise at Keeper’s reply. It was as though Keeper had been anticipating this conversation. Keeper saw Nox’s reaction and became worried that he had greatly miscalculated. His heart rate began to rise.

“Did he just call me Emperor, or was he speaking generally?” Nox asked himself.


“I thought to take my followers in my powerbase up with me. You don’t think they will suffice?” Nox asked, baiting his spy chief.

“There are many talented individuals within the dark lord’s powerbase. Has the dark lord decided which ones he will appoint to which ministerial positions?” Keeper replied, masking his growing fear, believing that he had grossly overstepped his bounds.

Nox was not expecting the conversation to go as it was. It was as though Keeper was eager to thrust Nox up onto the throne. He’d been sifting through Keeper’s emotions, looking for deceit, but he could sense none, but he did sense Keeper’s fear.

“It seems you have a plan in mind, Keeper. Let me hear it.”

Keeper realized that he was being drawn into this topic, because of his miscalculation. He realized that Nox was testing him. He had no other choice, but to go all in and make the best of it. He struggled to keep a calm exterior, and to control his breathing. He knew that if Nox thought there was treachery in his words, Nox would kill him where he sat.

“If the dark lord wishes, I can compile a list of each of his most capable followers, their strengths, weaknesses, and their accomplishments. The dark lord will then have an excellent resource with which to judge which of his followers to appoint to which ministry.”

“That will do,” Nox said, “It is a most excellent suggestion. However, there is another matter that I must address.”

Nox knew he had to be leery of Keeper’s sudden enthusiasm. Keeper had always been reserved, extremely conservative, very rarely suggesting anything or volunteering more than was required. However, Keeper’s growing anxiety was a concern to him. He couldn’t understand why Keeper was becoming increasingly fearful. He needed to test his master spy.

“I want to ascend the throne to rule over a prosperous, powerful, and ever victorious Sith Empire. Doing so, will ensure that my rule will be popular and supported by my rivals. However, I must eliminate my competitors and the obstacles that impede my path to the throne,” Nox said candidly, making clear what he meant by adding, “If half of the Dark Council has to die for me to realize my ambition, then I will kill half of the Dark Council.”

Nox waited for Keeper’s reply. He wondered if Keeper would balk.

“Sith Politics is none of my business, Dark Lord. The security of the Sith Empire is my only concern. If a rival of yours gets in your way, I’ll find ways to get him out of your way without harming the Empire.”

“So, killing my enemies is out of the question?”

“Elimination of your rivals and enemies is not an issue, Dark Lord. Historically, Strong Sith lords have always asserted their right to rule, and in many cases those less powerful have died in the struggle. It is only natural that my dark lord would also vie for power.”

After a moment to think on Keeper’s reply, Nox found himself not entirely convinced and decided to push him.

“I tried to have Darth Arkous seated over the Sphere of Sith Intelligence, but the others saw fit to seat him over the Sphere of Military Offense. That is a problem for me,” Nox confessed.

Keeper, coming to believe that he had not angered nor offended Darth Nox, ever so carefully so as not to be noticed, relaxed his tensed muscles and brought calm back to his mind so that his heart rate would get back under control. It was a mistake that Keeper came to think that Nox had accepted his stance, and that he would not die that day. He had no idea that his dark lord could read every emotion violently swirling within the stoically poker-faced spy chief.

Nox took note that Keeper’s anxiety had melted away. He became puzzled by this and decided to probe his spy chief further. Nox needed to understand what Keeper was thinking about and why he had such reversals of fear and calm.

“It was my intent to take back control of my military vassal and, with him, lead my forces in an offensive operation to recapture the worlds we had previously conquered but then lost to the Republic. The idea is to build a reputation as a military conqueror worthy of the support and adoration of the moffs and the Imperial soldiers in the army and the navy, and to have at my back a military force ready and capable of backing my claim to the throne when I made it.

“Darth Arkous, however, now sits over the Sphere of Military Offense. He could stop me, would stop me, because offensive military operations fall under his purview,” Nox concluded then asked, “Do you see my dilemma?”

“Then you want him dead?” Keeper asked.

“Do you think you can make it happen?” Nox asked, surprised that Keeper would be so direct, but then reasoning, “I’m being direct with him, so it follows that he should be direct with me.”

“It can be done, Dark Lord, however, it might cause more problems than it might solve,” Keeper replied.

Darth Nox was intensely sifting through Keeper’s emotions, but he could sense neither deceit nor hostility emanating from his spy chief’s psyche and this pleased him greatly, but he wanted to be sure.

“Then have him killed,” Nox commanded, setting the final test.

“If that is your will, then I will see it done. However…,”

Keeper was speaking as Nox examined his emotions. He felt Keeper’s very strong resolve to get it done. That’s what Nox needed to be satisfied that he could depend on him, but he realized that he would have to be careful about what orders to give his spy chief going forward.

“… I must advise you to…” Keeper was saying.

Nox interrupted his spy chief, “On second thought. I think you’re right. It would cause more trouble than it is worth. I would likely become the first suspect. I need to have him removed in a more artful fashion.”

Keeper never understood how close he was to instantly losing his life and how narrowly he averted death. He offered a suggestion to his dark lord.

“A scandal that would see him voted off of the Dark Council in disgrace, Dark Lord?”

Nox’s interest was piqued.

“Do you have salacious information on him?” Nox asked. Then he said, “If you can arrange for such a terrible scandal to humiliate him before the Dark Council, then I would get what I need without raising suspicions.”

“I have to start digging, Dark Lord. I have no information on Darth Arkous.”

“In that case,” Nox said, “if you can’t find a humiliating piece of information with which to discredit him, then perhaps it can be arranged for the Republic, or the Jedi to know his itinerary. They may want to capture or kill him.”

“I’ll make something happen, Dark Lord. For your safety, please let me work at my own pace, and without your oversight. In this way, you will be just as surprised as the others on the Dark Council. You will have the protection of plausible deniability.”

“Months. No, weeks,” Nox said, setting a deadline regardless of Keeper’s request.

“I’ll strive to have something happen within months. Anything hastier will be dangerous.”

“The sooner, the better,” Nox replied.

“Then, I shall take quick action to make something happen sooner rather than later, Dark Lord.”

“Good, Keeper,” Nox said, nodding his satisfaction, “That’s what I wanted to hear. I hope you will be able to deliver.” Then he asked, “I don’t need to tell you to keep this conversation to yourself, do I?”

“Of course not, Dark Lord. You know my record for discretion.”

“Very well. That is all. You may leave to carry out your task,” Nox said, dismissing his spy chief.

 

Chapter 10: Dark Power, Betrayal, and Intrigue​

Virulous had been training herself on a daily basis, as her master had instructed, increasing her ability to call on more power at will from the Dark Side of The Force. Her encounters on Tatooine, during her mission of vengeance for Darth Nox, had unlocked her potential for drawing great power from the Dark Side, but Nox noticed that she was sparing with her use of that dark power. He was disappointed.

“For this ritual, you must draw all of the power that you can potentially concentrate, without holding back, and without tiring or relenting,” Nox had told her, and then cautioned, “Not only must you increase your endurance in concentrating the power of the Dark Side, but you must improve your ability to guard your mind from such concentrations of Dark Side power.”

So, Virulous trained daily, increasing how long she could keep it up, until she was able to saturate herself with the Dark Side of The Force for several hours without feeling that she would go insane. Now she stood before her master, demonstrating her progress. She found herself, deeply gratified with her master’s reaction.

Darth Nox smiled and literally applauded her success.

“You are now ready, my apprentice. I will now teach you the ritual of Force Walking.”

Without warning, Nox suddenly reached his hands towards her and used The Force to lock her mind from her body. Virulous collapsed to the floor and watched in terror as her master pulled his hands back towards himself, as though he were pulling at something. Virulous’ terror was magnified tenfold as she felt, not her life force, but her very soul being drawn from her body.

“Do you understand what I’m doing to you, my apprentice?” Darth Nox asked her, “Do you understand how I am pulling at your existence? Learn it! Understand it! Concentrate and focus at what I’m doing to you! This is the technique you will use to draw the Force Ghost into your being!”

Virulous suddenly understood that while she was utterly at his mercy that he was not going to kill her. He was actually teaching her the technique. Though she was still filled with terror, she willed herself to study just exactly what her master was doing to her and how.

She realized that her technique to draw upon the life force of her foes to heal some of her injuries was very similar to what he was doing to her, except that instead of drawing from the source, her soul, he was pulling at the source itself!

Nox watched the wild terror leave her eyes as they refocused on him. Nox let go of her soul and returned control of his apprentice’s body to her. Virulous, most unsteadily, attempted to rise to her feet, falling back onto her buttocks. Her body shook, trembling both with the effort it took just to stand up, she was greatly weakened, and she was filled with the residual fear that continued to course through her being.

Virulous, finally on her feet, was out of breath. Bent over with her hands on her knees, she panted for air. She looked at Nox who stood quietly, watching her reactions and waiting for her questions. Her voice trembled with the high levels of adrenaline coursing through her blood stream.

“I honestly thought you were going to kill me, Master,” she confessed to her lord.

“It is why I had to sneak this lesson onto you. You wouldn’t have cooperated if I had told you ahead of time what I was going to do to you,” her master confessed, and then asked, “but did you grasp the concept? Did you understand?”

“Yes, Dark Lord. I understood what you did.”

“Can you do it?” Darth Nox asked his apprentice.

“Yes, Master. I can.”

Nox immediately turned to his ship droid.

“2V-R8, send in the researcher.”

As the droid went about to carry out its task, Nox told Virulous what was going to happen next.

“You will now perform this technique on the Sith researcher. He is not weak, Lord Virulous, but he is not your equal. When you pull on his soul, do not stop where I did. You must pull his existence into your being, into your very mind, and imprison him there.”

“Yes, Master. I understand.”

The researcher walked briskly into Nox’s office. He noticed that his apprentice stood beside him, and seemed to be winded.

“I wonder, what secrets he’s just taught her?” the Sith researcher thought.

When he’d reached the right place, he knelt before his dark lord and introduced himself.

“Dark Lord, you honor me….”

He didn’t get to finish his greetings, collapsing to the floor with terror plastered on his face. The Sith lord tried to fight off Virulous’ attack, but he was caught unaware. Virulous did as her master commanded. Using all of the power of the Dark Side of The Force that she could command at will, she pulled on his soul.

She hadn’t thought that it would be as difficult as it was. She found herself in a monumental battle to pull the Sith lord’s soul out. He was resisting, using The Force to free himself from her grasp. Then she felt it. He had learned her technique, and began to pull on her soul.

Virulous began to worry that she would not be able to pull it off. She thought of Nox’s warning.

“He’s not weak, but he is not your equal.”

But her attempt to demonstrate what she’d learned had quickly become a battle of life and death. She began to doubt herself.

“Did Darth Nox lie to me?” she asked herself, starting to panic, “Am I really not prepared for this technique? Did he set me up to fail?!”

Virulous stopped her line of thought, vehemently scolding herself.

“Stop whining about being betrayed! The life of a Sith lord is always a battle of life and death! I will be the victor because I am better!”

With that, Virulous mustered all of her will power and poured herself into a bath of hatred. She filled herself with a desire to make the researcher suffer. She found herself wanting to consume his soul, simply to experience it. Suddenly, Virulous became the predator, killing its prey.

She ripped the Sith lord’s soul out as though ripping his heart out of his chest with her bloodied bare hand. The Sith lord’s soul evaporated. Virulous found herself grasping at thin air, as it were. The Sith researcher lay dead on Nox’s rug, and Virulous found herself, panting heavily for breath, after her monumental effort.

She felt absolutely exhausted. Her eyes seemed to open, when they were already open, and seemed to see anew, when nothing in her view had been obscured. Instead of seeing her opponent’s soul, she merely saw his lifeless body sprawled on the rug. Struggling to catch her breath, she turned to look at her master, and found him grinning broadly, and nodding his great satisfaction.

“You have done very well, my apprentice,” he told her, declaring, “You have made me proud. Now, listen carefully, to consume the Force Ghost’s power and absorb his knowledge, simply imagine that you are eating him whole. Swallow him down in one bite. Do you grasp the concept I’m describing, my apprentice?”

“As though I were... absorbing his life force... to heal my injuries..., Dark Lord,” she said between breaths for air.

“Yes! My apprentice understands! Now, I will teach you the final lesson. That is, how to draw a Force Ghost out from hiding.”

“Dark Lord,” Virulous politely interrupted her master, “May I rest for a short while? I will prepare my datapad to take notes, as you present your lecture, but I am spent,” she said, still panting for air.

Nox sighed before replying, “Very well, Darth Virulous. Please return ready to receive my final lesson on this subject. I will permit you to take notes as you see fit. You may go,” Nox said, dismissing his prized student, “Return in an hour.”

“Thank you, Master,” Virulous said, bowing her head.

Virulous then turned to leave Nox’s office, shambling her way to his office door. She was surprised at herself.

“Stars above! I really am woefully spent!”

An hour later, she had returned as instructed. Her victim’s body had already been removed from Nox’s office. She presumed it had been gifted to the Dashade.

“I shall feast well!” she imagined Khem Val saying upon receiving the corpse.

“Dark Lord, I return as instructed,” Virulous intoned, “but I have a question before we begin with the final lesson.”

“Yes, Lord Virulous. What is your question?”

“Master, I had his soul firmly in my grasp. When I attempted to shove it into my mind, his soul evaporated into nothingness. Did I fail in some way?”

“A Force Ghost is the existence of a Sith lord or a Jedi who had learned how to maintain their existence by not become One with The Force,” Nox explained, adding, “There is a very specific set of requirements that must be met, and split second timing is crucial, to successfully anchor your existence so that it does not dissipate into The Force. When he died, he was unable to do this, so his soul became One with The Force.”

“Oh. I see,” his apprentice said aloud, while thinking to herself, “Of course! I should have realized that myself!”

Nox spoke darkly, adding an observation that had not occurred to her either.

“Lord Virulous. You have seen many deaths. You have seen your foes fall at your feet many times. However, this is the first time you have ever seen a soul dissolve into The Force.”

The impact of those words rocked her core, and a new realization occurred to her.

“The dark lord knows how to become a Force Ghost!”

“Force Ghosts don’t seem to do very much, Dark Lord. What value is there to continue one’s existence, if you can’t do anything with it?”

“Ask Vitiate what value there is to being a Force Ghost,” Nox replied.

“Yes, Dark Lord. Now I see the value,” she told her master, and then asked herself, “Will Darth Nox become the next Emperor Vitiate?”

“Then let me begin the final lesson,” Nox announced.

She took careful notes of what Nox said, realizing that it was the easiest part of the lessons he had given her to date.

“Basically, I just have to project my presence, through The Force, to annoy the Force Ghost. The Force Ghost will materialize to stop me from making a nuisance of myself,” she thought.

Virulous smiled at how silly her simplification of Nox’s final lesson was.

She momentarily forgot herself, and told Nox what she thought.

“So, basically, I’ll be the obnoxiously loud, new neighbor, and aggravate the Force Ghost into appearing to tell me to keep the noise down…”

Virulous realized that she’d taken too many liberties and expected her master to frown disapprovingly. Instead, she found herself amazed at what her master did.

He laughed, with real mirth.

“That’s it, exactly!” her master said, adding, “Good. You are finally ready.”

Virulous was deeply pleased and felt that her master had finally found worth in her. She caught herself, again, in another contradiction.

“If he wanted me dead, he’s certainly had his chance. He’s had me, twice, in a compromised position,” she told herself, “but I am not dead. I have become stronger, and have learned a new technique, a technique that actually exists.”

Virulous looked at her master, her face betraying nothing of what she thought.

“Then what have I been doing all of this time?! I have worried myself over nothing! I am a fool!”

She forced herself to pay attention. Her master was speaking.

“Now, Darth Virulous, prepare yourself,” Nox instructed his apprentice, “We shall depart to Korriban. The Dark Council is assembling. Tell Khem Val to prepare also. We shall depart in six hours, the ship will be waiting for us in Kaas City Spaceport.”

Kaas City Spaceport was the private spaceport used by members of the Dark Council, their apprentices, the ministers of the Imperial government, and by the highest ranking Moffs of the Imperial Army and Navy.

“Yes, Dark Lord. As you say,” she said.

For the first time in months, Virulous felt that she would not be betrayed, that her master truly valued her. He had made her much stronger, and taught her a secret that made him strong.

After bowing her head to her master, Virulous turned and walked briskly to his office door.

_____________________________________________________________________________________​

Nox sat at his desk in the state room aboard his Imperial Navy starship, a Fury-class Interceptor, piloted by Andronikos Revel. He was rereading, for the fifth time, Keeper’s report about the possibility that Virulous was about to betray him. Nox shook his head with a heavy heart. He found himself, fallen in love with her, and she was probably plotting to kill him.

“Of course I would miss the signs of betrayal, since I’m blinded by my feelings,” he thought.

Nox blamed himself for not seeing it coming, for not seeing the signs. She remained distant to him, despite how he’s warmed to her.

“Perhaps I should have been more direct, and simply told her how I felt,” he reasoned, wondering if it would have made a difference.

The evidence was all circumstantial. She could have been plotting against some other Sith lord whom she thought was in her way, but Keeper could not determine who that Sith lord might be, and neither could Nox.

“Other than Darth Eviscerous, a viable candidate to succeed me for my seat on the Dark Council, I can’t imagine who else she might be considering a threat,” Nox thought.

However, the dark lord was dissatisfied with that possibility.

“But I’ve chosen Virulous to be my apprentice. She is my natural choice as inheritor of my seat. Why would she feel threatened by Eviscerous?”

Reading Keeper’s report, he could see why his spy chief felt the same way, not finding anyone whom she could see as a threat. Keeper had cautioned the dark lord to be aware of possible danger to himself.

The security consultant whom Watcher Two interrogated, revealed no information about who it was that Virulous wanted targeted. Protus Security Consultants Group’s records showed that they forwarded her request for additional services to an outside firm, but not which firm, and the additional services was never described. There was no record of who in the consulting group had handled forwarding the request.

The two droids Virulous contacted were stolen, and their central processing electronic brains were utterly destroyed when the two machines self-destructed. As for the theft of the two droids, both were newly manufactured and were diverted from their intended recipients, explaining why the war droid was unarmed. The Army hadn’t received and armed its property.

The theft was carried out via an artful slicing operation, which changed the addresses of delivery, to the Happy Brewer’s Pub and to the loading docks of that building. In other words, the slicing operation had fooled the manufacturers to deliver their stolen finished products, themselves. Immediately, thereafter, Virulous had been contacted via the Taxi kiosk droid.

When Watcher Two sliced into the taxi company’s mainframe, she discovered that the taxi droid had been sliced and programmed to deliver its message to Virulous. The slicer was very competent, leaving no trace. Investigating the thefts and the slicing operations were dead ends for Watcher Two.

Watcher Two, however, did find another security video angle, from behind the two droids. Just over the stolen military droid’s shoulder, from a high angle, the zoomed in video showed only the lower half of her face inside of the hood of her civilian jacket. Using a lip-reading software, Watcher Two was able to recover some of what Darth Virulous said to the droid.

Nox listed to the electronic voice speaking in sync with Virulous’ lips, whenever the hood of her jacket didn’t obscure her mouth.

“I’ve changed my mind. I no longer want their services. I’ve decided that … I did it myself. … appear weak by my rivals if I relied on such services.”

There was obviously a pause, while she listened to the droid’s response, before she asked the droid a question.

“Do the assassins actually work for Protus Security Consultants Group?”

Nox didn’t know the levels of complexity that went into Keeper’s success for obtaining the information and the video the way he had. However, he understood that Keeper was beyond competent at his job, and so was Khem Val who, according to Keeper, was the one who ordered him to dig into Virulous’ potential treachery against him.

“That Keeper is damned good at his job, and how many times has Khem Val saved me from assassins’ plots?” Nox wondered, and then decided, “I must reward them both, but especially Khem for a job well done.”

Nox wondered if a law against commercial assassination services should be enacted.

“No. It would set some kind of precedent that would make it harder for me to destroy those who betray me…,” he concluded.

In the end Nox decided to test her.

“Let me give her every opportunity to kill me, then. Let’s see if she takes the chance.”

_____________________________________________________________________________________​

Darth Nox left his two attendants out in the antichamber to wait for him as he strode into the Dark Council chamber. Nox had reached his dais and began ascending the steps to his seat, when he heard the chamber doors hiss open and then shut again. Nox looked to the far end of the chamber and saw that Darth Marr was the one who had entered, stomping his way to his dais in his heavy armor.

Nox knew that Marr had to be hot under the collar about what Pyron did. Nox was certain that Pyron had taken, not only his own fleets, but the fleets of one or two other moffs from Marr’s hidden position high above the galaxy, and that Marr would have something to say about it.

“He must have already been well on his way back to the galaxy when he called me to complain,” Nox speculated, “There’s no other way he could have made it to this meeting in person.”

Then remembering that Darth Arkous had a stake in this, too, carefully turned his eyes to look across the chamber floor to Darth Vengean’s old seat. There Nox saw Arkous, looking straight at him. Nox realized that this special session of the Dark Council meeting was going to include an inquiry into Moff Pyron’s actions.

As Darth Marr began to speak, Darth Nox turned his face forward, and would turn his head and eyes very slightly to look at whomever spoke. It was the custom of council members to not turn their heads too much. The seats, elevated on daises, were arranged in two slightly curved rows of six seats, like parenthesis, with a large open floor in between the rows. The curved arrangements permitted the dark lords to see each other without turning their heads too much.

“Without objection,” Marr said, from behind his cybernetic mask in his baritone voice, “let us begin the special session of the Dark Council meeting.”

“I wish to be recognized,” Darth Arkous said.

“Why is he still alive?!” Nox caustically asked himself.

Nox felt vexed at Keeper’s slow pace with removing Arkous from his path.

“Without objection,” Marr said.

However, before he could give the floor to Arkous, Darth Vowrawn interjected.

“I object. This discussion is going to take up most of our time. Let’s get the small stuff out of the way, first.”

“I hardly consider massive budget cuts across all of our spheres of influence, small stuff,” Darth Aruk said, a bit annoyed that Darth Vowrawn was attempting to change the order of the itinerary.

“Well, considering that we’ll be discussing something that might result in the censure of one of our members,” Vowrawn countered, “then in comparison, those massive cuts appear to be small stuff.”

Nox knew that Marr and Arkous would make that attempt, and that if they succeeded with convincing the others to vote to censure him, it would make his claim to the throne, even harder. It would also make it possible for one of his enemies to propose his removal from the Dark Council.

Marr spoke, “Shall we take up the matter being brought forth by Darth Arkous, or shall we take care of the other items on the agenda? Those in favor of Darth Arkous getting the floor now, raise your hand and say aye.”

Nox spoke up, “Based on what Darth Vowrawn has just said, you’ve consulted others about a matter that Darth Arkous, our newest member wants to address, but you haven’t consulted me! What is the meaning of this, Marr?”

Marr ignored Nox, looking around to count the votes.

“Those against, raise your hand and say nay,” Marr said, again looking around to count the votes.

One vote against and one abstention,” Marr announced. The ayes have it.”

The no vote was Vowrawn’s, and Nox had abstained.

“Darth Arkous has the floor,” Marr declared.

“Moff Valion Pyron has taken it upon himself to move several fleets. The question is did he act alone, or is he under orders from his benefactor?” The question was more an accusation, than a line of inquiry.

On impulse, Nox decided to be surprised.

“What?!”

Then turning his head to fully face Marr, he asked, “Marr, what have you done?!”

Darth Marr was clearly not expecting this. He turned to look at Nox.

“What are you trying to imply, Darth Nox?” Marr ground out.

“I told Pyron, that if in his expert opinion he believed you were mismanaging the fleet, or that it appeared that you were going to make a move for the throne, to return to me.”

“What?!” Marr blurted, bolting to his feet.

None of the others on the Dark Council expected this. Suspicions and mistrust overcame them all. If there was a united effort to denounce Nox, he just threw a wrench into their efforts.

“Marr, are you and Arkous plotting to have me removed from the council? With me out of your way, and with control of the entire military, you can take the throne for yourself!” We gave you power to lead the Empire’s war effort, to defeat the Galactic Republic, but you haven’t returned the fleet to the war. Why not?! They should have been fueled by now. What are you plotting?!”

Darth Ravage shook his head in disbelief. His fury was building until he could contain himself no longer.

“I can’t believe I got sucked into your scheme, Darth Marr. YOU LIED TO US!”

Darth Mortis shifted his gaze from Nox, to Marr, his face set like stone, but his fury shown through his eyes.

“Moff Valion Pyron is a highly decorated, highly respected leader in the military hierarchy. It’s impossible to think that he would do such a reckless thing unless the conditions for my instructions have been met. So, either you are terribly mismanaging the fleet, or you are making a move for the Imperial throne in violation of the trust we gave you in our vote to grant you leadership for the duration of the war!”

“DO NOT BE FOOLED, DARTH RAVAGE!!” Marr bellowed, then more calmly, “Darth Nox’s vassal has made no complaint to me of my strategy. He is not a man who fears to say what is needed to any of us.”

“He is also a man who will not endlessly repeat himself, if his expert advice is ignored,” Nox retorted.

While the Council was reeling from Nox’s wildcard maneuver, he threw in another wrench.

“I move that Darth Marr immediately transfer all offensive military forces to Darth Arkous, without delay. We clearly cannot trust Marr with our entire military under his sole command!”

“Nox! You vile lying wretch!” Marr shouted, “You are going to divide the council against itself! Exactly what the Galactic Republic wants!”

“When Moff Pyron gets within communications range, I’ll ask him to report what precipitated his move. Then we’ll know who’s lying, Marr!”

Actually, Nox had made a huge gamble with that statement. What if Valion Pyron told the truth, that it was Nox’s idea?

Darth Ravage seconded Darth Nox’s motion to divest Darth Marr of all forces which fell under the responsibility of the Sphere of Military Offense. Then added a motion of his own.

“I move that effective immediately, all responsibility for military offensive operations be transferred to Darth Arkous. Rather than following the original plan to ease him into command.”

Nox voted aye along with most of the Dark Council. Next, Darth Marr was voted out as leader of the Dark Council, and instead the Council voted to have co-equal leadership among all members. Darth Marr shook his head in utter amazement at how easily Nox turned the council against him with such a simple accusation and with no basis for it.

Darth Nox did everything he could not to smile or smirk.

The meeting devolved into chaotic finger pointing and accusations of double dealing.

In all of the chaos around him, Nox almost did not notice that only two dark lords kept silent. Darth Rictus and Darth Zash. They saw through Nox’s masterful manipulation that reversed the table on Darth Marr’s plan to discredit Nox before the Dark Council. Had Marr succeeded, Nox could say goodbye to his ambitions for the Imperial throne.

Just when he noticed Rictus’ and Zash’s silence, Zash spoke up.

“Should we continue to allow Darth Marr to lead our sessions in the Dark Council?”

The council chamber fell silent as the gravity of the question weighed on their minds. Nox thought carefully about how to take Marr down without seeming malicious about it.

“Well, keeping order in the Dark Council while we discuss the matters of the Empire doesn’t mean he’s in charge. It just means that he’s done a good job keeping our discussions on track. Unless we are ready to vote Marr out of the Dark Council, I don’t see a need to appoint someone else to keep order in the Council.”

Darth Mortis was alarmed by Nox’s words.

“What cause is there for voting Darth Marr out of the Dark Council, Darth Nox?”

“I suppose it depends on what Moff Pyron reports was the cause for his defection from Darth Marr’s military leadership,” Nox answered soberly, turning his gaze towards Marr, looking at him as though he had the marks of some vile disease.

Darth Rictus spoke up at last.

“I move that we end this line of inquiry. It has caused confusion and nothing has been accomplished except to sew distrust among our members. Let us move on to the next items on our agenda.”

Nox spoke, deliberately taking Darth Marr’s role of managing the meeting.

“All those in favor of moving on to the next order of businesses, say aye.”

This act did not go unnoticed by Marr, nor the other dark lords.

Nox counted the votes, “Eight have voted aye, with one abstention. The motion is carried forward.”

Darth Marr was the one who declined to vote, in this case. He had been utterly out maneuvered, and utterly humiliated by Darth Nox.

 

Chapter 11: Recruitment​

The sleek new brushed stainless metal sliding doors were incongruous, contrasting sharply against the ancient hardened red sandstone of the Temple of The Sith, an ancient complex located on Korriban. Darth Virulous and Khem Val had been waiting in the antichamber along with other powerful Sith lords. These Sith lords, like Virulous and Khem Val, were the apprentices and servants of dark councilors, who were holding their meeting within the Dark Council chamber on the other side of the metal sliding doors.

The antichamber was uncharacteristically crowded because there were many additional Sith lords waiting for their respective dark lords. They had all been stealing glances at Virulous and at Khem Val standing beside where she sat.

“How has she not been eaten by that monster all of this time!” was what many of them were thinking, “She has to be incredibly powerful if that monster hasn’t been able to eat her!” was what many of those concluded.

It unnerved many of the Sith present, listening to the beast’s stomach growl as he drooled at the mouth, staring longingly at them. The Dashade unashamedly stared at them all. He imagined himself surrounded by dead Sith laying about the anti-chamber as he sat leisurely on the bloodied stone floor, enjoying a feast.

“There is so much good food in this place with me!” the beast thought, hungrily, “No! I must not! I must not bring shame to my master!” Khem Val admonished himself, fighting his primal urge to feast.

Virulous assumed the additional Sith were there as extra security. Tensions had already been running very high between the dark councilors these days. The fear and distrust the dark councilors held against one another had magnified these tensions, and Darth Marr was having a very hard time holding the Dark Council together in the absence of Emperor Vitiate’s powerful rule.

She did not know that her master’s rivals on the Dark Council had bolstered their numbers in case a battle against Nox and his followers broke out as a result of the coming confrontation in the council chamber. However, the others in the anti-chamber didn’t know this either. They had not been informed by their masters.

Virulous was very well aware that although Nox did not openly add to the friction between the dark lords that neither did he do very much to assuage the fears of his rivals. He also failed to back Marr in helping to keep the Council unified. He’d told her it was his strategy to make it as difficult as possible for Marr to keep the Dark Council together.

“While he is Leader, a strongly unified council favors him,” Nox had once told her of Marr.

Additionally, unbeknownst to her and the others waiting in the anti-chamber, Nox had just taken actions which threw the Dark Council into a fit of chaos, completely destroying what fragile unity remained in the Dark Council. The Dark Council was now fragmented. There was no doubt that the struggle for the Imperial throne was about to begin in earnest, but none in the antichamber were aware of any of this.

Two Imperial guardsmen, dressed in their full glossy red Imperial Guards armored regalia, stood watch at rigid attention in front of the two sliding metal doors. Their arms were down at their sides with their deactivated vibroswords, in their right hands, pointed down at an angle in front of them. Their thumbs rested on the pommels of their sleeping weapons near the activation switch which would bring their weapons instantly wide awake, singing their high pitched warbling songs of death. Their special issue overpowered blaster pistols rested in holsters built into their right thigh armor.

These soldiers were not Force Sensitive, but they were mentally and physically very tough. They were selected from among the very best in the ranks of the Imperial Army and Black Ops forces. They were physically very fit and extremely skilled in melee combat and in blaster rifle and pistol combat.

Part of the criteria for qualification for selection for service in the Imperial Guard required that the soldiers be veterans of at least five tours of combat duty on the front lines where they had participated in at least five major battles. During these battles, the soldiers had to have personally killed at least five enemy soldiers with blaster rifles or pistols (sniper kills were not considered) and at least three enemies in melee combat with a vibrosword, a vibroknife, or some other type of close quarter melee combat weapon, and it had to have all been observed, confirmed and recorded in their service records by officers in their units.

After having been screened for other possible disqualifying issues, they were finally accepted and sent to a moon reputed for its unforgiving environment. It was the location of the infamous Imperial Guard Academy where candidates endured six grueling months of specialized training. The moon was covered, globally, in a hot steaming jungle filled with some of the most aggressively wild beasts anywhere in the galaxy.

Few worlds were less hospitable to civilized life. However, what made this moon especially unbearable to all but the strongest willed candidates, was that the moon was also smothered in an overwhelmingly oppressive Dark Side aura which drove many of the recruits to quit.

The moon was very little known to almost all in the galaxy. The tiny handful of Jedi and the smattering few Sith lords, who have been to this moon, knew it as the infamous Yavin 4. This moon is the home of a native primitive race known as the Massassi.

It is also the home of temple ruins built by Exar Kun over five hundred years in the ancient past. Yavin 4 was Exar Kun’s seat of power, where he launched his war of conquest, and where the Mandalorians, led by Jedi, finally destroyed him, leaving Yavin 4 a ruin and the Massassi nearly extinct.

In this most unforgiving environment, the soldiers would go through very grueling training regimens that enabled them to combat Jedi and Sith alike. For every thousand candidates that went for training, nine hundred quit on the first day, and of the remaining hundred who stuck it out, only thirty would survive their training and graduate. Those were the toughest warriors in all of the galaxy, the most hardened, the most ruthless, the most disciplined, and the most unfeeling.

Taking advantage of their very tough minds, they learned special skills which helped them to withstand the worst that a Sith lord or Jedi could throw at them. While the Imperial guardsmen could battle and defeat Sith and Jedi in a straight melee battle, they were still no match for highly trained and skilled Jedi or Sith lords who could use The Force effectively to get past the mental and physical toughness of this special breed of warrior.

Yet, the Sith respected these special guardsmen, and would never dare raise a hand against one of these soldiers. These soldiers served the Emperor directly. Raising one’s hand against an Imperial guardsman, in uniform and on duty, was the same as raising one’s hand against the Emperor, an act of treason. The Imperial Guard was the Emperor’s personal pocket army.

The Emperor’s Imperial Guard, numbering ten divisions, were tasked with the defense of Korriban and other sites sacred to the Sith religion throughout the galaxy. They guarded all of the Emperor’s secret space stations hidden throughout Imperial space. Most of the Emperor’s secret space stations were guarded by Imperial Guards augmented with Imperial Army troops.

One of the few exceptions where the Imperial Guards exclusively provided security was the orbital Imperial Palace, a smallish sized space station in a random orbit somewhere in the Kaas star system and hidden with very advanced stealth technologies. This is where the Imperial throne room was actually housed, and this is where Vitiate was defeated by the Jedi who had somehow found his hidden space station. Four of the fifteen Jedi who were killed, during the raid against Vitiate’s orbital palace, actually fell to teams of Imperial Guardsmen, before they were themselves wiped out.

Virulous had been watching the two guardsmen in their glossy red armor. They hadn’t moved even a little bit. She knew that vibroswords were heavy weapons, yet the weapons didn’t wiggle, even a little bit.

“Don’t they tire of standing so very still, like that? How do they manage to do it?” she asked herself, knowing that they were not Force sensitive.

Virulous knew she wouldn’t be able to remain motionless for even a full minute. Even as she carefully studied the two guardsmen, she was slightly startled when they suddenly, in unison, smartly snapped their vibroswords, swinging them upwards, so that the swords came to a stop resting against their armored shoulders vertically parallel to their right arms.

The Imperial guardsmen then turned away from each other and stomped three steps to either side of the sliding chamber doors. Then they turned to face each other, and raised their swords with the pommels of their weapons in front of their faces, in salute, with a final stomp.

This event signaled to everyone in the antichamber that the Dark Council had adjourned. The doors slid open and the dark councilors trickled out, one by one, with several moments passing before the next dark lord came out. There was no particular order for when a dark lord exited. Their servants in the antichamber just had to wait for their respective masters to come out.

When their master did exit, the followers would rise to their feet and join their dark lord and the party would make their way towards the stone corridor, at the far end of the antichamber, which led to the two turbolifts in a small turbolift lobby.

It took quite a bit of time, waiting for the two turbolifts to deliver their passengers to the levels far below in the Temple of The Sith and then return to the council chambers at the apex of the pyramid, for another round of passengers. So, there was never any rush for the dark councilors to exit the council chamber.

Darth Vowrawn exited first and immediately four of his followers, including his two apprentices, walked briskly to him, falling in behind him and to either side of the dark lord as he strode in a stately pace towards the lifts.

Darth Marr’s heavy armored foot falls could be heard even before he exited next. His two similarly armored apprentices, and their four followers, fell in behind their lord.

Several moments passed before Darth Rictus came out, hiding his elderly white-haired features underneath his hood, which he pulled over his head before exiting the council chamber. Three Sith lords, their own heads concealed under hoods fell in behind their lord, and with them three heavily armored Sith followers.

Nox came out next. Compared to the others, who wore somber colored attire or armor, he was vibrant in his customary medium grade flexible body armor with its deep black and brilliant yellow patterns. He wore a neutral expression as he walked out. Virulous and the beastly Khem Val fell in behind Nox, with Virulous taking up her place on the dark lord’s right side. Virulous wondered why Nox had elected not to bring extra security. She found that disconcerting.

“Is he inviting an attack?!” she complained to herself.

Otherwise, she was curious about the discussions held by the dark councilors, but she decided to wait until later to ask her master what was discussed. This was a special unscheduled meeting that had been called into session. She could only imagine that it was about some sort of emergency.

She knew that if she asked, her master would tell her what, if anything of import, had taken place while the chamber doors were shut, but there were also times when he’d snap at her for asking. She discovered that on the occasions when he snapped, it was because he did not get his way in some matter or other.

Five minutes later, Nox, Virulous and Khem Val exited the cramped turbolift, cramped because of the Dashade’s bulk, and proceeded down the corridor leading to the Sith Academy within the base of the pyramid.

As they descended the ancient, worn red stone stairs into the Grand Chamber, Virulous watched the acolytes quickly bend to their hands and knees upon seeing Darth Nox. Their foreheads touched the red stone floor which was worn with ruts from thousands of years of foot traffic inside of the temple.

Earlier, when the dark lords had entered the Temple of The Sith, the acolytes had been groveling in this same manner. The party of Sith lords were making their way through the Sith Academy, which was located within the base of the pyramid and which had to be traversed on their way to the Dark Council chamber located at the apex of the pyramid. Now the acolytes were groveling as the dark lords exited the ancient temple.

It was apparent to Virulous that the acolytes were terrified about something. She didn’t remember the bowing and groveling being so intense when she was an acolyte here a decade before.

Nox and his followers were making their way through the maze-like passages in the academy. As soon as she and her master were spotted on the stairs at the end of a corridor, the acolytes just stopped dead in their tracks and practically threw themselves onto the unevenly worn stone floor on their hands and knees.

In one instance, an acolyte had stopped right at the threshold of a corridor leading to some area within the pyramid. Nox was forced to come to a stop. Virulous had had enough. She berated the poor acolyte, practically spitting out her acidic vitriol at the hapless youth.

“Out of the way, vermin trash! You’re blocking the dark lord’s way, you blithering idiot!”

The poor, terrified acolyte scurried on his hands and knees, out of the threshold and to one side of the passageway, pleading for his life as he hurriedly crawled.

“Spare my life! Spare my life! I will learn from my mistakes, Dark Lord!”

Nox said nothing to the miserable young man as he resumed his steps into the stone corridor. Virulous and Khem Val followed behind their lord, stepping into the corridor and leaving the terrorized man, already forgotten, in the intersection of corridors.

Nox looked over his shoulder towards Virulous, and quipped, “They are especially obsequious of late, aren’t they?”

Virulous was taken by surprise with his humor. It struck her as a very funny remark. She smirked, trying to suppress a chortle.

“My lord,” she replied, “I’ve heard that from the beginning you bowed and groveled before no one. It was said that your overseer hated you for it.”

“Oh, those were the days! Harkun tried to have me killed every chance he got. He even sent me into a tomb where I ran into Khem, here,” Nox said, laughing and pointing a thumb over his shoulder at the Dashade.

“My master is fortunate that I was too weak to make a meal of him,” Khem Val reminisced, “I was very hungry that day when he woke me from my long slumber.”

Virulous became deeply intrigued on hearing this and asked, “My lord, how did you two meet?”

Before Nox could answer, Khem Val said, “Do not ask me such questions. I do not like reliving the old days too much.”

Virulous was startled into stopping in her tracks. The look she gave the Dashade made the monster burst into laughter.

“My master, look at her face! She is a sight to see!”

Nox stopped to look back at his apprentice and gave a good chuckle at Virulous’ scandalized expression.

Nox turned again, resuming his steps, before speaking, “Harkun sent me deep into the desert to an excavation site that had to be halted. The Dark Side was driving the archaeologists into raving madmen, frothing at the mouth, unable to comprehend language, to drink water, or to eat food.

“They died of thirst out in the deep desert. Only the Sith overseeing the operation were able to protect themselves from the powerful influence of the Dark Side. The Sith gathered what relics they could, for study, and left their servants to perish.

“That’s what Harkun sent me into, thinking I had not learned how to protect myself from the madness. I delved deep into the maze that was a tomb built by Naga Sadow, but never used by him. It was rumored that a star chart created by Tulac Hord was hidden in the tomb. This star chart showed where his hidden bases were located, scattered throughout the galaxy, where he kept his secret research.

“To obtain the star chart, I had to ask Tulac Hord’s servant how to get it. So, I woke him up where I found him in stasis. I expected a Sith Pureblood or a Human Sith lord to come out, but when the stasis chamber finally opened, a monstrous Dashade emerged instead, and he was hungry! He tried to eat me, but I wouldn’t let him, and we became best friends ever since,” Nox ended his tale with a laugh.

“Best friends who tried to kill each other when one or the other had his back turned,” the Dashade clarified for Virulous.

Virulous felt as though Nox was finally acknowledging her existence as more than a servant. She was glad about this, especially as she became sure that her master was not after her life. However, she had something she had to straighten out with the Dashade.

“Khem Val, you may have been having fun at my expense, but when I address the dark lord, do not answer in his place.”

“It was a story of my master and of me. You said, ‘my lord,’ not ‘dark lord.’ I thought you spoke to me,” Khem Val said, deadpan.

“You are not my lord!” Virulous blasted at the monster.

Khem Val burst into laughter again, pointing a finger half as long as Virulous’ forearm.

“She made that face again!” the monster told his master.

“I am not amused,” Virulous grumbled, when she realized the Dashade was still teasing her.

She fumed as she recovered her composure, and after a moment to reflect, Virulous became astonished. Something had changed, and she had missed when the change had occurred, but Khem Val was treating her the way he treated the pirate, Andronikos Revel, and the way the Dashade treated the Imperial Reclamation Service officer, Lieutenant Colonel Talos Drellik. She wondered what had changed, but it seemed to have started when Darth Nox began to treat her in a civil manner not very long ago.

“Have I finally been accepted into the dark lord’s inner circle?” she asked herself, then wondering, “Why have I been so sure that he was about to sacrifice me? Why would he sacrifice me?”

Virulous didn’t know the answer, but she liked the feeling of finally being accepted.

“Perhaps I have finally proven my worth to the dark lord, and the others have recognized my power, too,” she speculated, thinking of her training two weeks ago in Nox’s office.

Nox continued his story, as he came to a stop in front of one of the overseers’ offices.

“When I returned to Harkun with the star chart and with Khem Val in tow, the fear that entered his eyes, and that tainted his voice, fear of the Dashade and fear of me, was the sweetest reward that I could ever ask for. From that point onward, I was the acolyte to fear, feared even by the overseers,” Nox said, smiling as he reminisced of days gone past.

Without another word, he touched the contact switch, opening the sliding metal door, and walked into the office of an overseer who was famed for turning out several Sith lords who later became darths, one of those darths served as Nox’s vassal, Darth Eviscerous.

She was in the middle of lecturing her six acolytes, when one of them saw the dark lord and his entourage entering the chamber.

“It’s Darth Nox!” he said, throwing himself out of his chair and onto the floor along with his fellow acolytes. They prostrated themselves, on hands and knees, their foreheads touching the cold stone floor.

“Dark Lord, you honor me greatly with your presence,” Overseer Ragate intoned reverently as she knelt before the dark lord. “How may I serve you?” the overseer asked soberly.

“Send your acolytes away,” Nox commanded, “I don’t want them to hear any of this.”

Without hesitation, Ragate rose to her feet, turned to face her students, and commanded, “Acolytes! Go to the combat training chamber and practice dueling amongst yourselves. Set your training batons to their lowest stun settings. Go, now. Hurry!”

One of the acolytes shouted, “Dark Lord, you honor us greatly with your presence! Please allow us to take our leave!”

“Go,” Nox said, dryly.

The acolytes bolted to their feet and fled from before his presence, leaving the dark lord, his servants and the overseer alone in her chamber. Meanwhile, Ragate had turned back to face Nox and again knelt before her lord.

“Rise, Overseer Ragate,” Nox told his servant.

As the ruler of the Sphere of Ancient Knowledge, the Sith Academy, its library of ancient holocrons, all of the ancient ruins on Korriban and throughout the galaxy, in essence anywhere the Imperial Reclamation Service had an excavation, fell under his purview.

However, Nox’s sphere of influence also included the Sith Academy, where Sith histories, traditions, and sacred ancient knowledge were taught to acolyte hopefuls.

This meant that all of the overseers and the administrators at the academy were his subordinates, and although interrogations were not a part of archaeological research nor Sith education, inquisitors were also his subordinates.

The Inquisition came into being millennia ago, as a means to torture captured Jedi and rival Sith lords, to learn their secret Force techniques. Later, under the rule of Emperor Vitiate, The Inquisition stopped interrogating Sith lords, but also evolved to include the questioning of certain spies, politicians, and diplomats who’d been captured or abducted, and then smuggled to Korriban for interrogation.

After interrogations of Sith lords had been abolished, the interrogations began to narrowly focus on discovering the whereabouts of certain ancient Dark Jedi or Sith relics which were held in the protective custody of the Jedi Order or other governmental entities.

Nox got his start as an Inquisitor after graduating from the Sith Academy. He performed interrogations when he wasn’t busy hunting down relics for his former master, Darth Zash.

Despite the fact that he ruled over them in his Sphere of Influence, this did not mean that they were all loyal to him, and Nox knew this. He had his spies sniffing around, identifying those who harbored hostility towards him. They were holdouts who still believed in the traditional conservatism of Thanaton, whom Nox destroyed in a duel before the Dark Council, many years ago.

Nox was universally feared and respected, but his ideas were not universally accepted. One thing that Nox pushed for and got made into Imperial law was the granting of Imperial citizenship to aliens living within Imperial space. This meant that, for the first time in Imperial history, aliens born, raised and living their lives within Sith Empire space were given full rights and protections under Imperial law, including the privilege of joining the Imperial Army and Navy.

Many years ago, Nox led Imperial forces against Darth Malgus who launched a civil war in an attempt to usurp the throne. After finally cornering Malgus and forcing him out of his subterranean base on Ilum, Malgus attempted to sway Nox to his cause. Nox heard the usurper out before entering into single combat with the traitor.

It was then that Nox heard, from Malgus, his idea of granting citizenship to the aliens, that their added numbers would bolster Imperial military strength, and in general strengthen the Empire. After defeating and slaying the usurper, Nox stole his idea, bringing it before the Dark Council. Since then, the aliens held a special place in their hearts for Nox. He was regarded as their hero. As such, Nox knew he could count on their loyalty to him when he made his play for the throne.

In the beginning, it was a very unpopular change, but it was grudgingly accepted by Imperial human civilian citizens and military personnel. What else could they do? This was by edict of the Dark Council, and the Emperor’s silence on the matter meant that he gave his approval.

Over time, human Imperials warmed to the idea of aliens as Imperial citizens, because the aliens showed their gratitude to the Empire, working very hard to earn their place in Imperial society. Yet, there were still many Sith lords who continued to object, grumbling under their breath at each tradition that Nox overturned.

Darth Nox looked over his shoulder at Khem Val and made a signal with his hand. Overseer Ragate misunderstood, thinking that Nox had ordered his Dashade beast-servant to eat her. Her eyes bugged open, and although she opened her mouth to speak, she was stunned into silence, as Khem Val produced some kind of device, which he then began pointing around her chamber.

After a moment of silently watching the beast and his device, she finally came to realize that the monster was not going to eat her. The Dashade was scanning her office for spytech. She let out a silent sigh and allowed herself to breathe again.

Word of the Sith Emperor’s destruction, at the hands of the Jedi, had spread despite the censors’ staunchest efforts to stop that news from getting reported within Sith Empire space. However, news reports throughout Hutt and Galactic Republic space was hard to keep out of Imperial space. So, when the rumors started circulating that Nox had already made his claim to the Imperial throne, there arose a schism among Sith everywhere, but also within Nox’s own domain.

Small factions within the academy began to take hostile measures, which is why the murders and assassinations had started to get out of hand and threatened to affect the rest of his Sphere of Influence outside of the academy. These factions were split among those who wanted to push the throne out of Nox’s reach, to restore and preserve ancient Sith traditions, and between those who sought to rid Nox of traitors, to ensure that he gained the throne to make the needed changes that would strengthen the Empire.

There was a third, and much larger faction, and it was made up of those who very carefully maintained neutrality over the entire matter. These were the acolytes going through their trials and the majority of the academy staff, who didn’t know whom they could trust.

Nox didn’t understand the strange behavior of the academy students and of the overseers around the dark councilors, especially around him. He wanted to ask Overseer Ragate about it.

Khem Val said, “There are no spying devices, Master.”

Nox nodded acknowledgment of the report and then turned to face Overseer Ragate.

“The acolytes seem a bit more fearful than usual,” Nox observed, “What’s changed?”

He knew right off that it was a touchy subject. The way the mere question seemed to immediately trouble her was quite apparent from the way she tensed her shoulders. Despite not having formally interrogated anyone for many years, he still had the knack for drawing information out of his interrogation subjects, in this case by merely asking the right question with the right lead-up to the question.

It helped that most Sith lords preferred not to lie to him, as in the case of Overseer Ragate.

“Dark Lord, the Emperor is said to be dead. Everyone awaits the day when the new emperor shall be elevated. Naturally, in our minds, we see that it might be you,” the overseer told him, thinking that she had hidden her apprehension from the dark lord.

Virulous had actually gotten quite good at hiding her thoughts and feelings from Nox. Her master had told her this. It came from a necessity of being in his presence nearly constantly. She found herself less than impressed with Ragate’s performance.

Although Ragate could mask her emotions and wore a decent pazaak face, her choice of words gave away her fear of showing Nox her enthusiastic support. In other words, Virulous thought Ragate a poor liar.

“Wouldn’t that be nice?” Nox asked facetiously, “If it were me, that is.”

In fact, he took note that while Ragate expressed her certainty that he would ascend the throne, the overseer did not express her desire for it to be so.

“You don’t seem thrilled about the prospect, though,” Nox challenged in a conversational tone.

“You are an extraordinary Sith lord in our times, Dark Lord. I don’t see how it could not be you,” Ragate said, hoping that saying so would please him.

However, she worried that if the Dashade’s scanner had missed even a single spying device, that saying so could also potentially make her some new enemies in the academy.

She was among the neutrals who didn’t know whom to trust, and she knew that the politics was getting deadlier by the day. Up until a moment before, she had been careful not to show whether she was for or against Nox’s ascension to the throne. Ragate could only hope the Dashade was right, and that there were no listening devices planted in her office.

Although, Overseer Ragate said nothing about it to the dark lord, Nox already knew that there was an unusual uptick in murders at the academy, but he didn’t know why the killings had gotten worse, not that he particularly cared. If an acolyte was too weak to fend off other acolytes to protect him or herself, ‘then let him or her be culled,’ is how he felt about it.

However, Ragate had decided to tell him what had happened to cause the skittishness in the academy.

“The acolytes don’t understand why so many have been getting killed at the hands of unknown overseers,” she said.

Nox was surprised by this news.

“Acolytes killing each other off, to cull the weak among them is one thing,” Nox interjected, “but why are overseers killing acolytes?”

“A group of acolytes were speculating who the new emperor would be. Their overseer had overheard their unwise discussion. He killed them all himself over fears that he might be accused of putting those ideas into their heads.

“Some days later, the overseer was himself found dead. It was rumored the reason for his death was that in killing his acolytes he had exposed his opposition for the particular dark councilor favored by his students.”

Ragate was risking much saying as much as she did to Nox. She still worried about spying devices. However, now Nox understood Ragate’s neutral stance towards the possibility that he might ascend the throne.

“I’m sure things will shake themselves out smoothly,” Nox said, laughing at the absurdity of his obvious lies, “No power struggles or assassinations, nor any of those fun things will impinge on a smooth transition of power.”

Actually, he had already increased security at all of his properties and businesses, and he’d increased security in his domain within The Citadel in Kaas City. In fact, Nox was not the only dark councilor to take such precautions. His peers on the Dark Council all knew that betrayal, intrigue, and assassinations would increase now that a power vacuum existed at the Imperial throne.

That Nox would have taken these extra precautions, was a given, but from the point of view of his enemies and rivals, it seemed that he was taunting them with the fact that he did not seem to have increased his own personal security. It was as though he was telling them, I don’t fear any of you. I have the power to crush all of you without any extra help.

Nox seemed reckless in that he tended to travel around Kaas City with only the protection of the Dashade, and sometimes also with his petite apprentice. Meanwhile, his peers on the Dark Council would never travel openly without the company of entire security details.

In fact, the truth was that the gargantuan Dashade was a natural predator of all those who were sensitive to The Force. The Dashade species were resilient and resistant to Force attacks. All of the dark lord’s rivals would become Khem Val’s food – if Nox permitted it.

From the day Nox conquered Khem Val, he had the best personal security anywhere in the galaxy. It was just that the Sith had gotten so used to seeing the Dashade by his side, that they’d started to let down their guard. All except Darth Zash, who knew personally of Khem Val’s amazing resistance to Force techniques and the terribly violent nature of his combat style.

Zash never let herself forget what she’d witnessed while she briefly served Darth Nox after being freed from the Rakata mind trap. Nox had sent Zash and Khem Val to destroy the servants of Acina, located at various facilities around the world on Dromund Kaas.

During the slaughter at one of Acina’s facilities, the Dashade had several Sith lords simultaneously attack him with Force Lightning, Force Push, and other Dark Force techniques. The Dashade carried on as though nothing were amiss. He laughed at them, snacking on a victim’s arm while slaughtering others who tried to flee.

Suddenly changing the subject, Nox told Overseer Ragate, “I want one of your acolytes as a new apprentice.”

Virulous became instantly alarmed that she would have a new rival and became quite angered on hearing her dark lord’s request, but she hid her displeasure from the dark lord. Ragate, meanwhile, was thrown for a loop with the request.

“Dark Lord,” Ragate said, greatly discomfited, “I beg your forgiveness, but these acolytes are on trials for Darth Zash. I am not permitted to give them to anyone else.”

Ragate waited for Nox to descend into a rage and possibly even threaten to strike her down for her defiance. Her eyes flitted to the monstrous beast and back to her lord again.

“He could order his monster to eat me,” she thought, dreading the very real possibility that this could be her fate.

Ragate was prepared to stand her ground on the matter, determined not to be corrupted in her sacred duty of turning out qualified, quality candidates which would go on to serve their Sith masters on the Dark Council, or to serve a powerful darth, or lord of Sith, who’d earned the right to claim a qualified apprentice from the academy.

When her rational self stood back to examine her ideal self, a realization struck her.

“Am I really prepared to throw my own life away to uphold an old tradition?!”

Ragate, however, found herself greatly surprised by what her lord said next, and then – after some thought – found that she was greatly relieved by what he’d said.

“You don’t need to send me your best apprentice. Whoever it is just needs to have some power. Even if you think he won’t survive his trials, or won’t amount to very much after his trials, I’ll take him.”

Virulous remembered Nox’s conversation with Marr only three months before.

When Marr had offered to gift Nox with Lord Cytharat, Nox said, “I have enough strong Sith following me. What I need is someone I can sacrifice.”

Ragate asked, with some incredulity, “You want one of my failing acolytes, Dark Lord?”

“I intend to discard him when I’m done with my experiments anyway,” Nox replied, as though speaking of a disposable one time use appliance.

Virulous realized this apprentice was going to be that sacrifice. It also finally confirmed to her, that she was not going to be that sacrifice. Her anger left her, but ironically she also became filled with sympathy for the poor acolyte who would be used and then thrown away by her master.

She remembered how Nox made her into his apprentice, but his intent was to sacrifice her life to retrieve Darth Zash from her technological prison, where her consciousness was entrapped. After some thought, Virulous realized this was why she had been so weak. The Sith lord resolved to harden herself.

“It’s better the poor wretch than me!” she thought, defiantly.

However, a pang of guilt struck at her heart for taking that route. Virulous turned her face to impassively regard her master.

“How does he do it? How does he turn off his humanity towards those he has not included in his inner circle?”

Virulous lapsed into another moment of introspection during which time she failed to realize her own ruthlessness. She was greatly feared and loathed in The Citadel, but had no idea.

She asked herself, “Will I ever be able to match my master’s ruthlessness?”

Ragate, who had resolved not to throw her own life away, still found it somewhat off-putting. It was bad enough that many acolytes were killed because they were too weak to survive their trials or were too weak to defend themselves against rival acolytes, but to be taken out of his or her trials specifically to be sacrificed…. She found it unconscionable, as wicked as overseers slaying their own students. However, she opted to keep her thoughts on the matter to herself.

Instead, she told her lord, “I could tell Darth Zash that another acolyte got himself stupidly killed, Dark Lord.”

“Whomever you select, do not tell them they are going to meet with me,” Nox instructed. “Let none of his peers know that he was sent to meet with me. As far as they should know, as you’ve suggested, he was simply sent out to some other trial, and then never made it back. I’ll wait in the library below.”

Nox didn’t even wait for an answer. He simply turned about and made his way out of Ragate’s office. The door hissed shut, and Ragate was left alone with her thoughts.

The overseer hated this part of her job. Whenever the expectations and the strong wills of two dark lords were at cross purposes, she would often find herself stuck in between. However, it was something she’d grown skillful at handling.

Indeed, Nox had generously left her with plenty of latitude. He didn’t ask for her best student, for example. He even approved her idea for concealing this activity from Darth Zash.

“Since he is willing to protect me from Darth Zash, does this mean that the dark lord values my service to him in the Sith Academy?” Ragate asked herself. Then smiling sardonically, answered her own question, “How long would I remain a valued servant to the dark lord if he wanted my best student, and I told him no?”

In Sith politics, being what it was, one could be favored and an up and comer, only to one day suddenly find him or herself accused of betraying his or her dark lord and be destroyed.

In the corridor, Nox and his followers made their way towards the Grand Chamber. He instructed his apprentice as they briskly strode down the red stone passageway.

“Darth Virulous, you shall make your way to the library and wait there for the acolyte. When he arrives, bring him, immediately, to the ship and assign him quarters. He is to remain in his quarters and not come out until I have spoken to him.”

Virulous ventured a bit of dark humor.

“Yes, Dark Lord. I will see to babysitting your sacrificial pawn.”

Nox stopped and turned to face Virulous. There was no humor showing on his features. Virulous’ stomach twisted into a knot as she realized that she had, perhaps, miscalculated on how familiar she could become with him.

“As long as you understand that he is no threat to your position,” he said to her, “ensure that nothing untoward happens to him.”

“Of course, Dark Lord, no harm shall befall him,” Virulous promised.

“Good,” her master replied dryly, “then head to the library.”

“Yes, Master,” Virulous replied, relieved that her lord had not become angry with her.

“And Virulous,” Nox cautioned, “watch your back. Everyone here seems to be on edge.”

“Yes, Dark Lord, always,” Virulous promised.

She was guardedly happy that her master showed concern for her safety as she made her way back down the corridor, where she would make a turn to a set of narrow stairs which led to the library below.

Nox turned and stepped a few more paces into the Grand Chamber, where the acolytes proceeded to throw themselves to the red stone floor, prostrating themselves before the dark lord of the Sith, as he exited the pyramid accompanied by the Dashade.

_____________________________________________________________________________________​

Outside, on the huge veranda at the top of a seven hundred meter long ramp, Khem Val signaled to one of the Imperial Guardsmen. The guard, in turn, called for a transport which would deliver Darth Nox and his Dashade attendant to the tiny spaceport over rough, rocky plains, stretches of sand dunes, and over a few barren ranges of low hills seventy kilometers from the academy.

Shortly after, an armored troop transport arrived. Both Nox and the behemoth Dashade entered the troop compartment. Khem Val was too big for ordinary luxury speeders. In the troop transport, Nox gave his instructions.

“Leave Lord Virulous to me. I shall test her, and I shall decide whether to destroy her. In the meantime, get your luggage, and find other transport off world. I’ll make some sort of excuse for why you aren’t joining us.”

“If my master is killed by his viper apprentice,” Khem Val said, deadpan, “then do not lay the blame with me.”

“Do not worry, my old friend,” Nox said, just as deadpanned, “If I am so weak that she could kill me, I promise to never speak a single word of blame against you.”

_____________________________________________________________________________________​

The acolyte strode into the library and came to a stop a few steps in. He looked down at the flimsiplast in his hand which his overseer had given him. On it was written the archival reference number of a holocron he was to read in preparation for another foray into the desert.

“I just got back from a dangerous tomb, and now I have to go to another one?!” the acolyte groused under his breath. “This is totally unfair!”

He sensed the presence of someone in the library with him and looked up to see a petite female Sith lord, shrouded in dark robes, walking in his direction. His heart skipped a beat, but after a close look he didn’t think it wasn’t anyone on the Dark Council, he relaxed again and stepped to the side to get out of her way.

She was obviously headed to the door and he did not want to give her any excuse to yell at him – or worse. The acolyte then returned his attention to the flimsy with the archival reference number, trying to recall which shelf in the library that was on.

“Are you one of Overseer Ragate’s acolytes?” the petite Sith lord asked.

The acolyte fairly jumped out of his skin. He immediately prostrated himself before the Sith lord.

“Stand up, man,” Virulous said.

She was becoming annoyed with all of the skittish acolytes running around scared half to death.

He stood as ordered, but he took to standing at attention.

“What do you think you are, a soldier?” she asked the young human derisively.

“No my lord, I don’t think that. It’s just that I felt it appropriate to demonstrate my respect for you,” he replied, thinking quickly for an excuse to explain himself.

“You respect me? Why? What do you know about me?” Virulous challenged.

“I do, my lord. I do respect you,” he insisted, “You’ve survived this place, and…,” he paused to look closely at the Sith lord, before diverting his eyes again.

In that brief span, the acolyte regarded her black robes and her medium grade, flexible armor, also black but with red markings. Her hood was pulled back and her rigid armored cap and mask was hanging from her utility belt on one hip, with her smooth chromium plated sabrestaff on her other hip. She was obviously very wealthy, and thus politically connected.

“You look very powerful,” he told her, “That should be enough reason to earn you respect.”

“I look powerful?” she asked, smiling and looking the youth in the eye, although his eyes were averted.

He was her height, but he was sure to have a lot more growing to do.

“Tiny little me?” she asked.

“Most Sith lords who come to visit the academy keep their heads bowed, trying to keep a low profile. But you’re walking around like you own the place,” he said, his voice starting to crack.

The acolyte was starting to fear that this was a dark lord after all, and that he could not identify which one she was. He went through the names of the dark councilors, trying to figure out which one she was.

“Please, don’t be Darth Zash,” he prayed to The Stars.

Virulous was expecting him to make up some sycophantic lie, but when she thought about it, it made practical sense to her.

“You are correct, young man. Any who can survive this place deserves respect,” she had to agree.

She saw the flimsiplast that he’d been studying in his hand.

“Give that to me,” she demanded.

Without hesitation, he surrendered the flimsy to her.

Virulous read the contents and then ordered, “Follow me.”

She made her way to a shelf at the side of the library, with the youth following as ordered. She located the holocron in question.

“Naga Sadow’s tomb,” she read from its label, shaking her head, smiling at the irony. “What a coincidence,” she said to the young man, who nervously stole a glance at the woman.

“I was just told a story about this very tomb,” she said, light humor coloring her tone, “It was just a few moments ago, in fact.”

“If I may, my lord, what did you hear about the tomb?”

Virulous noticed the sudden change in the acolyte’s demeanor as he made his inquiry. His fear was obviously overcome by his curiosity. He even began looking at her directly.

“It is a place filled with the power of the Dark Side of The Force. If you enter it without preparing yourself, you will be driven to madness, and die in the tomb.”

The young man shook his head dejectedly, thinking, “Why does Overseer Ragate always give me the hardest tests? It’s not fair!”

He didn’t realize that Ragate was trying to make him stronger, or get him killed in the process.

The youth said, “Overseer Ragate wants me to read this holocron and learn about the tomb before I go there, my lord. If you don’t need it anymore, can I have it?”

Virulous did not answer him. Instead she replaced the holocron on the shelf and turned to face him. The warm softness left her eyes, replaced by coldest scorn.

“You are not going to any tomb. You were sent here by your overseer, to me. You will follow me. I will take you to meet someone. He will tell you what this is all about.”

Clearly, the youth didn’t like what he’d heard. Virulous became amazed as the youth shook his head in the negative, all fear seaming to be gone from him.

“I’m sorry, my lord, but I must obey my overseer. She…”

Virulous quickly raised her hand towards the young man’s face and said, “You will come with me.”

The youth jumped back and pleaded, “Please, lord! Don’t hurt me! I didn’t mean to disrespect you, but my overseer gave me orders!”

“You have a strong mind, young man. You’ve resisted my attempt to muddle your will with Force Persuasion.”

The youth said nothing, his fear of her having returned.

“Give me your weapon,” Virulous ordered, holding out her hand.

He didn’t want to, but he complied, surrendering his training baton to the clearly malevolent woman. She set the weapon onto a reading table nearby and then turned to face him.

“Use The Force to retrieve your weapon,” she ordered.

The young acolyte did as ordered, lifting his hand towards his weapon. The training baton easily levitated and glided smoothly into his open hand.

Virulous became impressed, asking, “How long have you been training under Overseer Ragate?”

“Six months, my lord.”

“Only six months, and he can already resist Force Persuasion and easily use telekinetic techniques?” Virulous thought, impressed, “and this is Ragate’s worst student?”

“While you were sent away, my master spoke to your overseer,” she told him.

His eyes bugged open and his jaw dropped when he realized that the strange mean woman could only be the apprentice of the dark lord, Darth Nox. He hadn’t seen her, because when Nox first entered, the youth had thrown himself to the floor, along with his classmates, to prostrate themselves before Nox, and he’d only caught a very brief glimpse of the brightly attired dark lord and of the behemoth monster.

He hadn’t seen the woman, if she was in Overseer Ragate’s chamber during that time. When he ran out of the office, he concentrated on getting a good look at the monstrous Dashade, wondering how many Sith and Jedi the beast had eaten. Up until that moment, he’d only scene holographs of the species, but seeing the gargantuan monster up close and personal was a terrifyingly thrilling experience.

When he said nothing, Virulous told him, “My master will be very pleased when he tests your strength.”

The acolyte finally understood what was happening.

“She’s taking me out of school!” he thought, distraught.

He was fearful of what his overseer would do to him if she found out that he’d left with the Sith lord, and the stories of Darth Zash’s ruthlessness made him even less inclined to leave school with the stranger.

“I’m sorry, my lord, the youth said, regretfully, “My classmates and I are on trials for Darth Zash, and I…,”

Virulous held her hand up again. This time, it was a hand gesture signaling that she wanted silence from the acolyte.

“Darth Zash is the dark lord ruling over the Sphere of Technology,” she told the youth, “You’ll be doing boring tasks, such as approving budgets for research and development of new technological innovations. It is necessary and important work, but – boring, very boring.

“On the other hand, my master is the ruler of the Sphere of Ancient Knowledge.”

Virulous left it at that, thinking that he would get the significance of what that meant. Her thin smug smile vanished on hearing what the youth thought of that.

“You dig up old ruins and stuff for history, my lord,” the acolyte said, obviously unimpressed.

Virulous was scandalized. She couldn’t believe that’s all he thought of Nox’s domain.

“The Imperial Reclamation Service does archaeological work, that’s true. They do piece history together from the bits and pieces that they find. Thus, it falls under the purview of the Sphere of Ancient Knowledge,” she acknowledged. “However, when we find ancient Sith or Jedi texts, we Sith study those. Sometimes we discover ancient rituals that give us power, power over the Dark Side of The Force!”

The acolyte didn’t seem enthusiastic about it, and it astonished her.

“Don’t you want to learn secret and forgotten Sith rituals with the dark lord?” she asked, unwilling to believe that any Sith would not.

“My lord, I learned telekinetic techniques and I’m starting to learn about Force Lightning…” he was saying, but was interrupted again.

“Those are basic, beginner’s techniques! I’m talking about real powerful stuff, here!”

Clearly she was becoming irritated with the thick-headed bumpkin who didn’t seem to understand what was being offered to him.

The young man shrugged his shoulders and shook his head showing his sincere lack of understanding of what she was saying.

“My lord, do you mean more powerful Force Lightning? Or did you mean…,” he started to say, but was interrupted by a clearly frustrated Sith lord.

“Blast!” she cursed, “Don’t you know anything about what I’m saying?!”

“Could you give me an example, my lord?” he asked, genuinely interested in what she would say, but not because it would motivate him to learn about it for himself, Virulous realized.

She shook her head in disbelief, finally understanding why Ragate would want to part with someone who was clearly strong in The Force.

“What do you know of Darth Zash?” she asked, hoping there would be something there that would capture his imagination.

“I heard that she was supposed to be dead, but…” he started to say, until the agitated petite woman cut him off.

“Yes! She died twelve years ago! Darth Nox researched a technique that brought her consciousness back from beyond The Force, and then he stuffed her reconstituted Force ghost into the body of a Jedi knight. That is how Darth Zash came back from the dead around a year and a half ago,” she said.

Then recalling what had actually happened, Virulous became angry with herself. She realized that she was relying on a fiction created by Darth Nox to con the other Dark Councilors into ceding power to him. She wanted a real example of Dark Force power with which to impress the youth and sway him into following her.

Despite being dissatisfied with the fictitious example, she was gratified to see the change in his eyes, signifying that the lie at least sparked his imagination.

“By researching ancient lost artifacts,” Virulous told the youth, “the dark lord has been able to bring back lost dark rituals that give us greater power.”

“Did you know,” Virulous said, this time with a real example, “that there is a dark ritual technique where you kill an enemy while using the enemy’s life force to quickly heal your own wounds?”

“Can that really be done, my lord?” he asked, skeptically.

Virulous had had enough of his bumpkin-like ignorance.

“Let me demonstrate another ancient lost technique for you,” she said, severing his conscious control of his body.

The young man dropped limp to the red sandstone floor of the library. Virulous used The Force again, this time to cause a chair to glide through the air towards her, setting the chair next to where she stood. She sat in the chair as it came to rest on the floor. Meanwhile, a look of terror was plastered on the young man’s face, but he could neither move, nor speak.

Looking down at him seated on the chair, Virulous explained, “This is a technique I learned, well before I became the apprentice of Darth Nox, while I was excavating an ancient palace belonging to an ancient Jedi master who had converted and became Sith and moved to Dromund Kaas.

“It wasn’t just at excavation sites where I’ve picked up unknown ancient techniques lost to us through the mists of time, I have also found ancient techniques while studying ancient texts in the archives of The Sphere of Ancient Knowledge in The Citadel in Kaas City.”

Virulous restored his conscious control over his body. The acolyte scrambled to his hands and knees.

“Thank you for letting me go, my lord,” he said, his voice quavering with fear.

Virulous nodded acknowledgment of his gratitude.

“Now, don’t you wish to learn more about these powerful and mysterious techniques under the tutelage of Darth Nox? You won’t have access to any of this knowledge under Darth Zash. You’ll waste your life away pushing documents around…”

For the first time the acolyte realized that he could not say, No. He had already been given to Nox, and if he returned, his overseer would very likely simply kill him in order to silence him.

“I hope it’ll at least be fun, my lord,” the youth answered to Virulous’ great shock.

“Of course it will be fun! There’s nothing more exciting than learning a new Force ritual or technique!” the Sith lord replied.

Suddenly, Virulous became conflicted as she came to realize that she’d done to the youth what Nox had tried to do to her in the past, when he’d lied to her to lure her into his trap. The youth would be sacrificed to one of Nox’s research projects. A pang of guilt struck her as she realized that she was leading a youngster, still wet behind the ears but filled with potential, very likely to his death.

“If I keep thinking this way, I’ll never be as strong as Darth Nox,” she thought, in mild self-rebuke. Then, as though it were some consolation, “At least I won’t have to drag the boy away, kicking and screaming.”

She had no idea what kind of ritual her master was going to research at the expense of the young acolyte’s life. Virulous felt at once, revulsion for what she was leading the boy into, while also experiencing a perverse desire for a chance at the possibility to observe Nox’s experiment.

“I’ll ask if I can watch,” she promised herself.

Just then, both Virulous and the young man heard a small sound coming from a few rows of shelves over. Virulous reached out with The Force to search for the presence. Until then, she believed she was alone in the library with the young man. It was why she spoke so freely to him.

“Allow me to demonstrate another ancient technique which I had just learned,” she said, giddy with anticipation, “Darth Nox taught it to me only two weeks ago. If your studies with the dark lord progress well, I shall ask his permission to teach it to you,” she said, lying to the youth again, and then telling him, “Follow me.”

Virulous rose from her seat, as the young man rose to his feet from the floor to follow her around to the isle where she thought she’d heard the sound. As she suspected, another acolyte was in the library with her and the youth.

“Oh! Hello, young woman! I had no idea I was not alone in the library,” Virulous said, truthfully, “You’ve certainly startled me!” Virulous said, lying.

The obviousness of the lie was terribly obvious to the young acolyte, who bent to both of her knees and held her hands together, as though in prayer.

“I beg you forgive me, my lord,” the girl in her mid teens said, already weeping in fear, her voice trembling, “I did not mean to be so rude. I had no…”

The tearfully terrified young woman became silent as Virulous held up her hand for silence. The Sith lord then turned to the youth.

“Watch this,” she said to him.

This time Virulous shot her arms forward, her hands held out like wicked talons. A hate filled snarl disfigured her otherwise comely features. The young woman instantly dropped, crumpling to the floor limp. The boy thought it was as had happened to him, earlier.

The wicked grin of a fanged predator greeted the young man as Virulous told him, “Go on. Take a close look at her. Say something to her.”

The youth obeyed. When he tried talking to her and she didn’t move, he realized it was the same technique that the Sith lord had used on him earlier. The young woman’s arms were bent, contorted, and splayed in unnatural angles, and her face was mashed against the floor. Feeling sorry for her, he decided to straighten out her arms and legs and roll her onto her back, so that her face wouldn’t have to be pressed against the cold red stone floor.

He realized then that her eyes, still open, were lifeless. He licked the back of his hand and then held it against her nostrils, but felt no breath on his wet skin. The youth realized the young woman was dead.

He stood and turned to face Virulous. The vile mocking grin was gone, replaced by a coldhearted hate filled sneer. The look in her eyes told him she would just as soon as kill him as she had the teenaged girl.

“An investigation into her death will be conducted,” Virulous explained, “and they will discover that she simply died of natural causes. No lightsaber burns, no Force Lightning burns. No signs of foul play, except that you moved her body and left traces of your DNA on her corps. You will be the first suspect,” Virulous said, as though it were a funny thing. “and I’ll be free of any suspicion. I never touched her. Even though the original purpose of this technique is for obtaining power, it has potential as a perfect technique for assassinations,” Virulous told the stunned and terrified youth.

When the boy finally understood that he might get arrested for murder, he made a face expressing the horror of his predicament. Virulous laughed at the boy’s agonizing realization.

Virulous laughed, at the youth again, telling him, “They’ll more likely believed that you and she were lovers, and that you were both killed by a jealous acolyte, since they’ll never find you again.”

The boy shook with terror, causing Virulous to laugh even harder at the sight of it. Suddenly, as though recalling something, she stopped laughing and brought out her datapad. Looking at the time, she suddenly took on an air of great worry.

“Come now,” she said urgently, “We can’t keep Darth Nox waiting forever. He has a terrible temper, and his fury is something to truly fear.”

The young man’s heart sank, his lower lip began to quiver. He began to follow her out of the library, his legs felt as though weighed down with lead, as if headed for the gallows. He was near to tears as greater woe took hold of his soul.

“Darth Nox is scarier than her?” he thought, in terrible dismay.

 

Chapter 12: To Slay A Betrayer​

Virulous noticed something strange several hours into their flight back to Dromund Kaas. Aside from the acolyte, who’d been ordered to stay inside of his quarters, and Darth Nox, Virulous hadn’t seen any of the others in the ship. She knew that Andronikos was aboard, he made announcements on the ship’s public address system, from time to time.

However, she hadn’t seen hide nor hair of the Dashade, although the Dashade species have no hair. Meanwhile, Darth Nox, who customarily locked himself away in his state room, was all over the ship performing various tasks, tasks that Andronikos or the ship droid normally performed.

She noted that the dark lord was deeply engrossed with the work and failed to notice her presence until she announced herself. Nox seemed to have been slightly startled, when she spoke.

“I beg your pardon, Dark Lord. I did not mean to cause you any trouble,” she said, trying to be tactful.

“What is it?” Nox demanded, apparently annoyed with his apprentice.

“Forgive my curiosity, Master, but why are you doing these tasks instead of Andronikos or his droid?”

“2V-R8 is my droid, just as this is my ship, not his,” Nox said, as though correcting a student who’d gotten a simple problem wrong. Then he told her, “Andronikos is quarantined in his quarters, and piloting the ship from there. He’s contracted some sort of virus. I’ll have him seen by our military doctors when we arrive to Dromund Kaas.”

“Strange,” she thought to herself, “I hope it’s nothing contagious.” Aloud, she asked, “Shouldn’t 2V-R8 or Khem Val do these tasks, then, Dark Lord?”

Nox sighed, “I know this work is beneath me, but there isn’t anyone else to do it. Andronikos had been tinkering with 2V-R8, when he came down with symptoms, so the droid is out of action and can’t do it, and Khem Val begged for permission to go hunting on Korriban. I gave him a list of who not to eat and sent him on his way. If I had thought that you knew anything about running a starship, I’d have enlisted your help…,” interrupting himself, he asked, “You don’t know anything about running a starship. Do you?”

Virulous was mystified. The dark lord was behaving in such a familiar manor towards her.

“Does he desire a friendlier relationship with me?” Virulous asked herself.

“No Dark Lord. I know nothing of starships,” she said, and then tried a joke, “But if you need one excavated at an archaeological dig, then I’m your Sith.”

Nox expertly hid his fury, expertly forcing a warm smile and a light chuckle at her joke.

“She plans to kill me, and has the gall to tell jokes!” he fumed.

Virulous’ smile widened, genuinely pleased, that he was indeed warming up to her.

“Why did I ever think he was trying to kill me?” she wondered anew.

The following day, Virulous had exited her quarters to go to the exercise room. She was dressed in her gym clothes and was passing through the common crew space. She stopped, dead in her tracks, shocked at what she saw.

Darth Nox was reclined, asleep in one of the luxurious overstuffed lounge chairs. He was dressed in very relaxing civilian clothes and barefoot. His sabrestaff was set on a caf table, two meters from where he slept. Her heart began to race, becoming excited by what she saw, and her breathing started to become heavy.

“Is this an invitation?” She wondered, hoping it was true, and then detailing the facts to herself as she understood them, “Andronikos is quarantined in his quarters, Khem Val was left behind on Korriban, and the boy is sequestered in his quarters. Effectively the dark lord and I are alone on his starship. Perhaps he is inviting me.”

She couldn’t help herself, his sleeveless shirt was unbuttoned, open at the front. Virulous found herself staring lustily at his well-defined musculature. His shorts ended a few centimeters above his knees, showing off his well-defined, powerfully built calves and the lower portions of his powerful thighs.

Virulous found herself inching closer to where he slumbered, peacefully. She halted her steps, remembering who he was and instead continued to the gymnasium.

Nox, feigning sleep, used The Force to monitor her slow and careful approach. He couldn’t actually see her, but he could sense where she was and what she was doing. He could tell that her hands were empty. She was weaponless.

“Perhaps the idiot will go for my sabrestaff,” Nox thought derisively of the traitorous apprentice.

However, his plan to be completely exposed, even to the point of not wearing his armor, as he always did, seemed to be the bait that was going to suck her into his trap. Nox’s broken heart had already given way to his ever growing anger, as he sensed her making the approach to kill him.

“Stupid, Virulous!” Nox thought, reviling his apprentice, “You’re going to throw everything away! Why couldn’t you have waited for me to ascend the throne, so that I could elevate you to my vacated seat on the Dark Council?! Impatient, short-sighted dolt!”

She stopped in her tracks, making it clear to him that she was not going to go for his sabrestaff.

“Then will she try a Dark Force technique?”

Nox recalled that Virulous had been using The Force to eavesdrop on his private meeting with Darth Zash, right after Zash had been elevated to the Dark Council. He and Zash both sensed the intrusion, and he decided to lay a trap for his apprentice, asking Zash to tell him of her Dark Force technique which allowed her to instantly kill a disrespectful subordinate with a light touch on the subordinate’s shoulder.

“Hasn’t she figured out how easily that technique could be countered?! Fool!” he raged at her.

However, his face remained placid as he continued to feign sleep, ready to strike at her.

Yet, she did not approach him. In fact, she walked past him and left the common crew space.

Virulous was lost in wonder at how deep a sleeper her master was. She couldn’t believe that she could get this close to him without being sensed by him.

“Wait! What?” Nox thought, confused, “What is she hesitating for?! I was wide open! She had her chance! Did she detect my trap?”

“I have to make a decision,” he thought, thinking that she might have another plan in mind, “Should I wait, or strike now?!”

Nox decided to confront her. He rose from the luxurious chair and went to the gymnasium. There, he found Virulous conducting a series of stretches in preparation for her workout.

“So… You’re a physical exercise enthusiast,” he said, to get her attention.

Virulous saw her chance. With her master approaching and speaking so casually to her, she couldn’t take his approach as anything but an invitation.

“Dark Lord, I have something I wish to say,” she told him.

“I’m listening,” Nox said, curious what his erstwhile betrayer would say.

“I have strong feelings for you. I… I love you, my lord,” she said, her face blushing.

“Wait… What?!” the dark lord thought, thoroughly taken for a loop.

Virulous watched her master’s face register his complete and utter shocked surprise, as she began to approach her lord.

“My lord,” Virulous implored, in a tiny voice, “kiss me. Take me.”

She had stopped mere centimeters in front of him, looking up expectantly into his eyes. Nox, in complete shock, found his hands already moving on their own. His broken heart rebelled against his mind, screaming that it was a trap, as it revived his hopes for love. He found himself, pulling her to him in an embrace, which she returned. Nox bent down to kiss his apprentice, and she stood on her toes, so that their lips could meet.

_____________________________________________________________________________________​

Over the next several days, almost two weeks, as the ship made its way through hyperspace on its way to the Dromund star system, the two had numerous encounters, until they were nearly spent.

Now, however, the ship, remotely piloted by Andronikos in his quarters, was in regular space and was just entering the Dromund Kaas inbound starship traffic pattern. Of course, being as to how this ship belonged to Darth Nox, Andronikos would ask for, and get, priority routing to the planet’s surface, and would get a three hour permit, to land in Kaas City spaceport.

During the ship’s descent into the planet’s atmosphere, Nox finally gave Virulous her mission. The dark lord and his apprentice, now also his lover, sat in luxurious chairs on either side of a caf table in his state room. The two Sith lords were fully dressed in their Sith robes and armor.

“The time has come. Prepare to depart,” Darth Nox told her, “When you are ready, you will travel to Yavin 4. On Yavin 4, two hundred twenty kilometers south of the old ruined temple, there is a Massassi village. They have a shrine, which they have built for a god whom they worship. It is the Force Ghost of a long dead Sith lord.

“I don’t know which Sith lord it is, only that he performs miracles for his worshipers and they do his bidding. Even after death, he is immensely powerful. You will gain great power from him if you succeed, my apprentice.

“You will likely need to massacre much of the village just to get to the shrine. Take soldiers with you. You will need them.” her master cautioned, “The Massassi are strong and are resistant to The Force, although not to the extent that Khem Val is, but they have enough of a resistance that relying on Force techniques and your lightsaber alone will run you into trouble.

“The ruined temple has been repaired and renovated for use by the Imperial Guard Academy. Your forces should be able to get the current information about that village. Be sure your troop commanders get the up to date information from the academy. I know how stubborn the Army can be about asking others for help.

“Guard your mind, Darth Virulous. The Force Ghost may be attracted to the chaos and may likely attack you to protect what’s his. If the chaos does not attract his attention, then you’ll have to draw him out in the manner I have outlined to you in my lecture,” Darth Nox concluded.

“I will not fail you, my master,” Virulous assured her lord, “I will come back stronger and more capable. I will be a weapon for your purposes, my dark lord.”

Nox nodded his satisfaction.

“Go now, my apprentice. See it done,” Nox said, dismissing her with a courteous wave towards the door of his state room.

The two Sith lords rose from their seats, and Nox walked Virulous to the door of his state room. The door slid open, Nox turned to face her and embraced his lover, then leaned over as she stood on her toes so that their lips could meet.

“Dark Lord,” Virulous began, “Forgive me if I am too forward with you, but when I return, I would like to continue our…”

“Lord Virulous,” Nox interrupted, passionately telling her, “I very much love you.”

Nox had a terrible thought.

“What if I hadn’t waited for her to strike first? I never would have known how she felt about me. She would be dead at my hands, just as Ashara has died, at my hands.”

He held her tighter for a moment longer before finally letting go. However, Nox had another concern. He worried greatly that in her current state, she would not be able to draw power from the Dark Side as required.

“Lord Virulous,” he began, carefully picking his words, “I want you to be victorious. I want you to return safely, to me. I worry, that…. Do not forget. You must hold nothing back, you must draw every gram of Dark Side potential when you battle this foe.”

“I will not forget, my lord.”

Virulous took a step back and bowed to her lord before turning to walk out of his stateroom. As Nox turned to walk to his desk, the door slid shut. When Virulous entered the common crew space, she was surprised to see Andronikos seated in one of the lounge chairs.

“What are you doing out of your quarters? Aren’t you in quarantine?”

Andronikos seemed surprised.

“I thought you and the boss had already gotten off the ship,” the semi-retired pirate said, trying to suppress a crooked smile.

“The dark lord said you were ill,” she said, but it was more a question than a statement.

“I got plenty of rest and got better,” he lied, “R8 nursed me back to health after I put him back together.”

_____________________________________________________________________________________​

Originally, Nox had given him orders to disassemble 2V-R8, as if for maintenance, and to leave the pieces in the engineering department.

“Then I want you to remain in your quarters and pilot the ship from there. I’ll tell Virulous that you’ve gotten some kind of virus, and are ill and in quarantine.”

“Right, Boss.”

“Then when she tries to kill, me, I’ll take her out,” he said.

Andronikos could see how difficult it was for his employer. He knew that his boss was going to be very angry and very unstable for a good long while after killing her. So, the pirate planned to take a few weeks off, to stay as far away from Nox as possible.

“It’s too bad it turned out like this, Boss, but you gotta do what you gotta do.”

“The fool!” Nox fumed at the thought of her plans for betrayal.

But the following afternoon, ship time, Nox had brought in 2V-R8’s pieces and gave Andronikos new orders.

“Change of plans. Put 2V-R8 back together. The droid will bring you your meals. Stay in the room and don’t come out until Virulous is off the ship.”

“So, you’re not gonna kill her, Boss?”

“It seems there was some kind of misunderstanding,” Nox said, wearing a strangely goofy grin, “I think she likes me.”

“No way!” Andronikos said, pleasantly surprised. “Wait! Did you two, uh…., do it?”

“It?”

“You know. Did you get some of her sugar?” Andronikos asked, suggestively.

“Oh! Yes. So, just stay here. Wait until she’s off the ship before you come out.”

Nox was stepping towards Andronikos’ door, but stopped and turned back.

“Oh! Get in touch with Khem Val. Tell him he can’t eat Virulous.”

“I’ll get right on it, Boss!” the pirate promised, laughing.

_____________________________________________________________________________________​

Nox, in his state room at his desk, was conflicted. He worried greatly for the safety of his apprentice and his new love. He also wanted her to succeed and attain great power. It would both elevate him in the eyes of his rivals and, as he had told her before, give him a very powerful ally who could credibly support his attempt to grasp the throne for himself.

Nox had another discrete issue to worry over. The Force Walking Ritual merged the mind of one being, with the mind of another being in order to absorb the victim’s knowledge and their power in The Force. Nox was not at all the same man he was after he’d performed the ritual. He knew that Virulous was going to be a different woman when she returned to him.

“What if she doesn’t like me anymore?” he sighed.

On the other hand, he could not afford to not use his assets. He knew that to attain his ultimate prize, the Imperial throne, he had to be prepared to lose his most important followers if need be. On that score, Nox hardened himself and his resolve not to hold back.

Virulous understood this perfectly well, but she was more astonished with the realization of how warmly Nox had actually been treating her over the past few months. She wondered what it was that drove her towards madness and complete paranoia.

“Why couldn’t I see that he was being warm towards me, that he was treating me familiarly?” she asked herself, “Where was the misunderstanding?”

As she passed through the airlock and walked down the ramp of Nox’s starship, Virulous realized she had a lot to think about.

“Was I going insane? Am I already a little insane?” After a moment the realization struck her, “The Dark Side of The Force is far more subtle in its destructiveness to its practitioners.”

_____________________________________________________________________________________​

Virulous navigated the labyrinthine corridors and office suites on her way to a bank of turbolifts in The Citadel. As her first order of business, she was going to requisition military assets for her mission on Yavin 4.

She passed through the check points without any difficulty. She was well known. The security cameras had recorded her slaughter of many personnel in the domain of The Sphere of Technology, formally Darth Acina’s domain. Now rumors were also spreading, amongst the military security forces, that it was she who was behind the deaths and injuries of several random civilians at a taxi kiosk in front of The Citadel recently.

Of course no law enforcement action had been taken against her in either case. Her first slaughterfest was under the orders of Darth Nox during his blood feud against his enemy Darth Acina. It was Sith politics. It was unfortunate that the soldiers she’d killed were caught in the middle of it, but there was nothing that could be done about it. As to why she’d killed the civilians was anyone’s guess.

So, when she entered the headquarters of the Imperial Army, she was quickly ushered to the office of one of the moffs. She didn’t even wait to be greeted. She immediately made her demands known.

“You will make available to me one regiment of heavy infantry reinforced with heavy and medium war droids. You will also coordinate with the Navy to make available to me one Terminus-class destroyer to transport them to my destination where I will conduct my mission.”

“You honor us with your presence, my lord. Yes, Darth Virulous, we can get you those assets, but it will take some time to assemble them. Virtually everything we have is committed somewhere in the galaxy against Galactic Republic Forces,” the moff said, seemingly unperturbed.

However, he hoped his subtle message would get through her thick skull.

“We have no forces to spare for your selfish needs without sacrificing another vital operation!”

The moff spoke, however, as though he were filling a simple order for a few blank data chips. However, as unflappable as he seemed at the moment, inwardly he railed at the stupid Sith lord.

“How can she make a demand for such scarce and precious resources at a time when the Empire is stretched so unbelievably thin?! She works for a dark lord! Doesn’t she know that most of our forces are hidden somewhere in the galaxy on Darth Marr’s orders?!”

“I should be ready to depart for my mission in three days. Have those assets ready for me by then,” Virulous ordered.

She turned and made her way out of the moff’s office without waiting for his reply. The door had slid firmly shut behind her. The moff stood in front of his desk for a few moments as his burning outrage at the unmitigated disrespect shown him dissipated.

When he had mastered his fury, the moff finally replied in a low dry tone, “As you say, my lord.”

 

Chapter 13: A Walk to the Park, Not on Dromund Kaas​

The Jedi Council had convened to discuss an important piece of intelligence that had virtually fallen into their laps. Because of the war and other issues internal to the Jedi Order itself, only three Jedi Councilors were in attendance for this meeting.

The SIS, the Galactic Republic’s spy agency, sent an agent to brief their Jedi allies on a very important development. The SIS were the ones who had come across the information. They’d already done much of the leg work, vetting the intelligence windfall which had literally been breadcrumbed to them.

The SIS held a great deal of suspicion that the report might be a trap since it was fed to them, but the information was valid, having been verified and corroborated with other sources. Given the nature of the information contained in the report, however, they felt a strong need to involve the Jedi Council.

The biggest problem about the intelligence report was that there was nothing the SIS didn’t already know that was in it. Yet, the way the information was tied together, yielded insights that could only have come from an Imperial insider.

The SIS representative came to the end of his report.

“Our analysis of this comes down to two things,” the agent said to the Jedi Council members in attendance, “One: this is a trap to expose our agents working within the Empire. Or, two: someone on the Dark Council has betrayed a rival and wants to use us to do something with this information.”

Two of the three Jedi in attendance, quickly glanced at each other. The third Jedi simply stared at the datapad sitting on a display board hovering over the Council table near the three Jedi. She was actually meditating, using The Force to pull more secrets from the datapad, which was of Imperial manufacture. She didn’t like what The Force revealed to her, but she decided to say something about the matter set before them.

“The infighting among the Dark Council has begun,” Jedi Grand Master Satele Shan told her colleagues on the Jedi Council. “They are now vying for the imperial throne. This may seem like good news, but The Force tells me that things will not go our way so easily. In fact, I get the sense that The Force is telling me, ‘be careful what you wish for.’ We need to move carefully.”

“And what are you not telling us,” Jedi Master Gnost-Dural asked, dryly.

Satele Shan, staring at the imperial made datapad, thought carefully about how to word her response.

“It will cost us greatly, whether we take action, or don’t take action,” Satele finally answered.

Jedi Master Gnost-Dural then turned to the SIS agent.

“What does the SIS want to do with this information?”

“If the Galactic Republic military high command had access to this information, they would very much like to remove him from play. Darth Arkous has been very highly successful in his strategies in his theater of operations, leading many successful campaigns against our forces with a naval group under his command. If he’s allowed to continue as the leader of the Sphere of Military Offense, his influence and his successes could negatively affect the entire war effort for us,” the SIS agent replied.

“Where is he now?” Jedi Master Bela Kiwiiks asked, studying the agent closely.

“He’s newly ascended to the Dark Council,” the agent replied, “He’s still making the rounds to the various offices and headquarters of the Imperial military. He’s establishing his authority and consolidating his hold on power,” the agent replied, adding, “We have agents in the field tracking his movements.”

The agent caught the very, almost unnoticeable headshake from Jedi Master Bela Kiwiiks and decided to add a carrot.

“We could try capturing him, ambush his flagship, conduct a raid to locate and capture him on the ship. If you could turn him to the Light Side of The Force, we may be able to gain valuable information from him,” the agent said.

He didn’t believe in any of that Light Side / Dark Side crap. He saw it as just religious dogma and politics. Bringing that up was just a way for him bait the Jedi into going in on a mission that the SIS would undertake with or without the Jedis’ help. However, with the Jedi helping, the mission would have a much higher chance of success.

“Agent Korda Thrahn,” Satele Shan said, evenly, “Do not think that you can manipulate us into joining your mission. We have our own criteria for determining the best way to approach a problem, and just because he turns to the Light Side does not mean he would betray his empire.”

“I apologize if you mistook my suggestion in such a way,” the agent said, slightly embarrassed that he’d been unmasked so easily, “I guess I exposed my ignorance of how The Force works,” he added.

Korda Thrahn was further embarrassed on how stupid he must have seemed after his stunt blew up in his face. However, silence descended on the meeting as the three Jedi meditated on the problem, having already moved on from his failed attempt to manipulate them.

After a moment, Shan took on a slightly startled look, as she turned to look at Bela Kiwiiks, but she didn’t see the look on Shan’s face. Bela Kiwiiks had been looking at the SIS agent, wondering what games the Galactic Republic were up to.

“Have you only been following him around, or do you know where he’ll be next?” Bela Kiwiiks asked.

“I can’t answer that question…,” Korda Thrahn started to say, but Shan cut him off.

“We’ll need to conduct a large scale raid with heavy infantry, commandos, with medium and heavy war droid support. It will be an opportunity to capture or kill him, while capturing or destroying their repositories of dark knowledge. He will be alone.”

“That’s taking action,” Gnost-Dural said, then asked, “What will that result?”

“We’ll get him,” Satele said, “but it will be very costly to us. We will also lose the war.”

“What about taking no action?” Gnost-Dural asked.

“We will lose the war and also lose nearly half of the Galactic Republic to Imperial conquest.”

Gnost-Dural turned to Korda Thrahn and asked, “Where is he now? Where will he be next?”

“He’s about to depart Ziost, now. He will go to Dromund Kaas next,” Korda Thrahn answered, realizing that hiding that information was counterproductive at this point.

The two master Jedi looked at each other, greatly puzzled, and then at Satele Shan. Bela Kiwiiks asked the question.

“That small of a force will be enough to get him on Dromund Kaas?”

“Not on Dromund Kaas,” Satele said, adding no other details.

Gnost-Dural and Bela Kiwiiks’ eyes showed their surprise and then their astonishment. The agent was, himself, a little confused.

“Where will Darth Arkous go after Dromund Kaas?” Gnost-Dural asked Korda Thrahn.

“We don’t have that information,” Agent Korda Thrahn replied, adding, “Our sources haven’t been able to determine which planet he would go to next until he began preparations to leave whatever planet he was currently on. So, until he is done on Dromund Kaas and starts to make preparations to move on, we won’t know where he is going next.

“How would she know what forces would be needed to conduct a raid if they don’t even know where he’s going to be?” Korda asked himself, “But Satele Shan said not Dromund Kaas. What are these Jedi thinking? She wants to conduct a large scale raid, ‘not on Dromund Kaas…,’ a deep space station, then?”

_____________________________________________________________________________________​

Ciiru Nomuro had been given a long range scouting mission deep in enemy territory. He was to infiltrate the planet Taris to look into the living conditions and the treatment of the Makebi people. Ciiru was quite surprised at his mission assignment.

He wondered at the wisdom of sending him, remembering how emotionally tied he’d become to the people and to their plight. He thought back to how closely he teetered towards falling to the Dark Side because of his rage at the supreme chancellor for abandoning the people, and at the Jedi Order for their inaction.

His mission was a test, a mini trial. If he could get through this without feeling the pull of the Dark Side, then perhaps he could overcome his real trial.

“Or perhaps, this is where Vitiate will consume my existence and take over my body…,” Ciiru thought, feeling a tiny pang of fear.

He closed his eyes and took in a deep breath, slowly letting it back out. When he opened his eyes again, the worry was gone and his mind was back on his mission.

Ciiru had been living in the young forest, far beyond Imperial security patrol routes, in a very tiny camouflaged survival tent/sleeping bag. Each day, before going on a scouting run, he would collapse and tightly roll it up, leaving it at the bottom of a tree after covering it with leaves and twigs.

Then he would move to another spot about a half kilometer from his bivouac site to conduct his morning hygiene routine and to prepare his morning meal, burying the evidence of his smokeless cook fires and food packaging before making his way to one of the temporary refugee settlement camps.

Ciiru would then carefully make his way to the refugee camps to watch the people live their daily lives, looking for signs of abuse or outrageous oppression. Over the weeks of his scouting mission, he had learned that the people were not enslaved, but the people were not necessarily free, either.

Ciiru had already been to eight different refugee camps on Taris, watching the settlers for the better part of a month. He had made contact with none of them, except to Force Persuade a few of them into bringing him food and clothing before returning to his hidden camp deep in the young forest.

Ciiru Nomuro Force Persuade anyone with whom he’d come into contact into forgetting that they’d seen him. He didn’t want to negatively impact the Makebis’ relationship with the Imperials. He didn’t want to influence the Makebis, either, and thus get skewed results from his observations.

He’d observed and recorded a number of interactions between the Makebis and the Imperial Soldiers. The soldiers certainly were authoritarian in their dealings with the Makebis, but they were not unnecessarily harsh towards the settlers, either. The Imperial Army, here, was very consciously restraining itself when dealing with the refugees. Ciiru was deeply surprised at this, wondering if this was the norm, or if they had been ordered to give special consideration to the Makebis.

Aside from showing the proper deference to the Imperial soldiers, the people, while not jubilant, seemed to be not miserable. Nearing the end of his mission, Ciiru decided it was time to make contact with the Makebis, to ask them directly and to let them articulate their thoughts and feelings about their situation.

As he’d done on a daily basis, since being inserted onto the planet by a Galactic Republic Army Commando special operations stealth infiltration starship, Ciiru carefully approached the refugee camp. He was careful to avoid the numerous Imperial Army security patrols in the forests around the encampments. Once in the camp, he approached a family strolling down a marked walking path between the rows of tents. He used Force Persuasion to ingratiate himself to them.

“You will greet me in a friendly manner and stop to have a conversation with me,” Ciiru said, just loud enough for the family, only a few paces away on the path, to hear.

“Hi!” a small child, a girl, chirped.

“Hi!” the woman, presumably the girl’s mother, chirped right after.

“Hello, stranger!” said the man, presumably the father and husband to the aforementioned people, “I don’t think I’ve seen you on our block of tents before. What part of the settlement are you calling home?”

Smiling serenely, while sweeping his gaze at the sky and the white puffy clouds overhead, Ciiru replied, “Never mind where you live; the weather is just beautiful today!”

“Never mind where you live. The weather is just beautiful today,” the family man parroted.

“It certainly is,” Ciiru replied, and asked, “Is that a picnic basket you’re carrying?”

“That it is, friend. We’re on our way to the designated recreational park for a bit of family fun in the sun.”

“Designated?” Ciiru asked.

A bit puzzled, he looked in the direction from which he’d just come, and then behind the Makebi family standing in the walk path in front of him. They were at the northwest corner of the refugee camp, only a very short distance from the tree line of the forest to their north, and an open meadow-like landscape to their west. The family was heading east.

“You want to invite me to walk with you,” Ciiru said.

“I want to invite you to walk with us,” the man said, smiling broadly.

“Why, that would be just grand. I’ll join you for a walk,” Ciiru said, smiling just as broadly before introducing himself, “I’m Ciiru Nomuro. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Ciiru extended his hand, and the family man took it and grasped tightly before releasing it, without shaking, in the manner of the Makebi peoples.

“I’m Dando Plaris,” he said and, nodding towards the woman and the child, added, “and this is my wife, Mindy and daughter, Cintha.”

“I’m pleased to meet you both,” Ciiru said, extending his hand towards Mindy, who had taken his hand the way Dando had.

Ciiru had put his hand down at his side, but Cintha, smiling brightly, extended her hand towards the Jedi.

“Where are my manners?” Ciiru exclaimed, laughing.

He took Cintha’s hand and gave a brief squeeze before letting the child’s hand go. Her father laughed with some amazement.

“What’s gotten into you, Cintha?” he asked his daughter, laughing, “You’re usually scared of strangers.”

“He’s a nice man,” Cintha told her father, who smiled down at her.

“I guess she likes you,” Dando said, turning to regard the Jedi before asking, “Shall we get going?”

The two men walked slowly side by side with Mindy and Cintha bringing up the rear.

Ciiru turned his head to gaze at the many beautiful spots within the forest’s edge where one might have a picnic.

“Strange that you can’t just picnic right there in the woods” he said.

“The Empire don’t want us trashing the forest, stepping all over the vegetation, trampling the shrubbery, and littering all over the wild lands,” Dando said matter-of-factly, adding, “It was a problem when we first got here, because we were hunting all over the place, picnicking everywhere, getting lost in the woods,” he laughed, “We were a handful when we first got here.”

Dando didn’t understand why he felt a need to explain it all to Ciiru, as though Ciiru were an outsider, because Ciiru would have gone through all of the experiences he and his family did. Yet, something told him that Ciiru was an outsider, but it stayed in the back of his mind, a fact that could never gain any measure of importance, or needing an explanation. So, he kept telling Ciiru, what he should already know.

“Then it got serious. One of our people got a great business idea. He decided that he was gonna cut down some trees, make firewood and sell it to the rest of us,” Dando said, shaking his head. “The Empire arrested him, anyone who worked for him, his family, all of their families, and anyone who’d bought firewood from him.”

“Just for selling firewood?” Ciiru asked, with disbelief in his tone.

“For cutting down the Empire’s trees. They said it was for destruction of Imperial property, for the stealing of government property, and for the selling, and buying, of stolen Imperial property,” Dando clarified, shrugging his shoulders.

“That’s harsh,” Ciiru said, and then asking, “Wait. They arrested entire families? The children, too?”

“No one is above the law, in the Empire, not even children,” Dando answered.

“But they let them all go a few days later,” Mindy chimed in.

“That’s right,” Dando confirmed, “The Empire let everyone they rounded up go with a very severe warning not to do it again. Then we all, and I mean ALL of us, got a three hour long lecture about not messing around in the Empire’s forests.

The Empire went and built a big park – it’s actually a pretty nice park – for us to picnic in,” Dando said, adding, “The Empire is very serious about cleaning Taris up and making it clean and green again.”

“So, they’re cracking the whip and working you to the bone to tear out the old ruins and all of that?” Ciiru asked.

“Not so much crack the whip,” Dando replied, “as it is to give us a great incentive to get to work.”

“That doesn’t sound so bad,” the Jedi remarked.

“Not really. The alternative is to live out in the open and starve to death,” Dando laughed at that.

Ciiru stared blankly, not understanding what Dando was getting at.

“In the Empire, if you don’t work, you don’t earn a living. That’s the same everywhere else, I imagine; it was on Makeb. The difference is that the Empire doesn’t have a welfare system. If you’re not working, you’re dead weight; you’re weak. They’d rather be rid of you.”

Ciiru looked horrified on hearing this. Dando felt he needed to clarify something for his new friend.

“You can work as little as you’d like, just to get by, but living like that isn’t the best. If you work hard, you get treated better. If you’re smart, you can figure out ways to do better than anyone else around you, and get treated even better. The Empire is a pure meritocracy. You can start out a slave, and work your way up to being a general or something, but that would take a special kind of man to make that happen.”

“So then, you are slaves?” Ciiru asked.

“We were very lucky,” Dando said, soberly, “Darth Nox decided he didn’t want us as slaves. It could have very easily gone that way. Instead, he has this high ranking administrator running a citizenship program that’s letting us learn about Imperial law and how to get along with the Empire. Darth Nox is giving us a fighting chance.”

“So, then you find this life agreeable?” Ciiru asked.

“Stars, no!” Dando exclaimed, laughing.

“I mean, how does it compare to life on Makeb?” Ciiru pressed Dando.

“On Makeb, I ran my business. I did a good job, had lots of clients. I had lots of competition, but it was friendly, civil. There were rules.

“Here, the competition is all cut throat. You make a mistake, your friend, whom you thought was your friend, could make an anonymous report, and down you go, kicked back down to the bottom of the pile. You gotta pick yourself up and start climbing back up again.”

Dando felt he needed to clarify.

“Don’t get me wrong. On Makeb there were those who played dirty, too. They did everything they could, within the law, to get one over on their competition, but we knew who those were and there weren’t too many of them.

“Here on Taris, in the Empire, everyone might be that guy. And you find yourself turning into that guy. Competition, here, is a matter of life and death,” Dando said.

Ciiru could see that the family man seemed sad as he said those last words. Dando didn’t want to become that man, but if he was going to provide for his family, he had no other choice.

“I’ll bet life would improve a lot,” Ciiru suggested, “if the Republic freed this place.”

He was shocked at not only Dando’s, but also Mindy’s fierce reaction.

“The Republic can die!” Mindy shouted.

“You have a short memory, friend,” Dando said, “Why should we ask for anything from those scum who left us to die when Makeb was shaking itself apart?”

The way he stressed the word friend caused Ciiru to realize he was being regarded with a great deal of suspicion. Ciiru laughed and pointed at Dando and at Mindy, both.

“You should have seen the looks on your faces! It was a funny joke,” he said, using Force Persuasion.

Dando and Mindy both became confused, and it showed on their faces as they both exchanged unsure glances and gave in to nervous laughter.

“We know you were joking, but you need to be careful what you say. You know the Empire don’t know what a joke is,” Dando said, mildly rebuking the Jedi.

Changing the subject, Ciiru asked, “How’s work? Do you feel like a slave, or do you think you have a chance to get something better?”

“We’re pinching every credit. When we get enough saved up and we move into the new city, I’ll set up shop and run my own business,” Dando looked back at Mindy and was greeted by her reassuring smile and a sharp nod of concurrence.

“We’ll do just fine,” Mindy added.

Ciiru realized that the Republic had made enemies of the Makebi, and no amount of propaganda was going to change their minds. The Makebi were grateful to the Sith Empire and they believed, that while Darth Nox was a hard man, that he could be trusted to keep his end of the bargain.

Ciiru looked around the encampment. It was clean, orderly, Imperial troops patrolled the camps, keeping order and promoting safety among the Makebi refugees, even if they were austere and authoritarian.

“I don’t understand how a people could want to live like this, but they do,” the Jedi thought to himself.

Another thought came to Ciiru Nomuro.

“If the Republic tries again to foment rebellion on Taris, they will fail miserably among the Makebis, and if the Republic succeeds in getting the other Imperials to rebel, the Makebis will be the hardliners Darth Komo will rely on to put down that rebellion.”

Ciiru smiled at Dando and Mindy. He bent over and gave Cintha’s shoulder a brief squeeze, smiling broadly at her. When he stood straight again, he gave his goodbyes.

“Thank you both for allowing me to walk with you awhile and for giving me a line of talk. It was a fine time.”

“The pleasure was all ours,” Dando said, smiling and extending his hand towards the Jedi.

“We’d like to talk again sometime. Where can we find you?” Mindy asked, hoping her husband would gain a new friend.

“In a short time, you’ll forget we ever met,” Ciiru said, a bit regretfully, using Force Persuasion, “Go on to your family picnic and have a wonderful time. I wish the best to the three of you.”

He turned and began walking towards the northern edge of the camp, a couple of rows up from the Plaris’ row of tents.

“Goodbye!” Mindy said, a bit sadly.

“Bye!” Cintha chirped brightly.

Dando, merely waved his goodbyes as the Jedi stepped off of the walking paths and trudged through the tall grasses towards the tree line. It was strange to watch him walk off into the woods, but he didn’t have time to think about that. He had to get his family to the park.

“Let’s get going,” he said.

As the family of three resumed their leisurely stroll to the park, they all completely forgot about Ciiru.

 

Chapter 14: The Will of Ssassahnnah​

While in orbit over Yavin 4, the Imperial Guard at the academy had been warned of the impending operation. The Imperial Guard requested and got two days to clear their trainees from the area of the operation.

Over those two days, Virulous watched and listened to the officers make adjustments to their plan. One thing that had changed was the size of the village. The Imperial Army’s information on Yavin 4 proved to be woefully out of date.

Virulous was greatly relieved that she remembered Nox’s advice to force the army to get updated intelligence from the Imperial Guard Academy on the Massassi. It proved to be a very important factor in the army’s impetus to adjust their battle plans on the surface.

The small village they expected to find was now a large town, and the shrine was at the center of that town. That alone added complications to the mission, which was to fight their way to the shrine and create a perimeter to keep the locals out while Darth Virulous performed her mission at the shrine.

The colonel commanding the regimental ground forces had been studying the fighting tactics of the Massassi species. They were a big, burly, and powerfully built primitive people who found glory in war and death. They would not shy away from a fight, even if being slaughtered.

The individual Massassi warrior would tend to fight until killing and getting a trophy from his foe, usually the opponent's head and weapon. Then he or she would return to his or her hut to display their trophy.

Battles between Massassi tribes never lasted more than an hour. Long wars, fought over days, weeks, months were very rare. The last time the Massassi ever fought a very long and protracted war was under the leadership of Exar Kun around five hundred years ago. The war only ended, because Exar Kun was himself killed, but by that time the Massassi were nearly made extinct by the Mandalorians.

The Imperial Guards, over the centuries, had maintained an uneasy truce with the Massassi. The raid, would not be seen as a betrayal, because the Massassi were not sophisticated enough to understand that the Imperial Guard in their bright red shiny armor were actually on the same side as the Imperial Army, in their black heavy armor. As long as the Imperial Guard were out of the area, the Massassi would not think they had been betrayed.

“My lord, sensor readings indicate a population of around two million.”

“What about naval orbital bombardment?” Virulous asked.

“We’d win the fight, but your shrine would be destroyed, my lord.”

“Then we’ll have to kill every last one of them in a ground battle?” Virulous asked the colonel.

“Not necessarily, my lord,” the colonel replied, “If we kill the ten chiefs, their followers will withdraw. We just need to identify and locate those ten chieftains and take them out.”

Thinking about what Nox had said about their god, Virulous realized that their god would likely command the Massassi to fight to the end, and the Massassi would likely obey without hesitation.

“At the shrine is their god,” Virulous, told the colonel, explaining, “It is a long dead Sith lord who has managed to maintain his existence, and has ruled over the Massassi. They will fight to the last child if he commands it. I think he’ll command it, Colonel Hobbis Kahn.”

Colonel Kahn wasn’t a superstitious man, but he’d seen plenty of Sith do strange and supernatural feats in battle. Who was he to say that there wasn’t a Sith ghost ruling over the savages in that town. Then a thought occurred to him.

“Could this be why the village had grown as much as it had, a benevolent Sith ghost ruler?”

“Darth Virulous, my lord,” Colonel Kahn said soberly, “then I fear the enemy will not yield until their god is dead.”

He looked down, straight into the petite woman’s eyes, and waited for her orders.

“Take me to the battle, Colonel,” Virulous said, with steel in her voice.

“As you command, my lord.”

He couldn’t believe it. He was expecting her to order him to order his men to fight harder. Instead, she ordered him to take her into the fray.

_____________________________________________________________________________________​

The seal, which kept the atmosphere from escaping into space, was broken as the ramp came down, allowing the sounds of battle to boom and reverberate into the cramped troop compartment of the dropship. The whine of the ship’s engines was nearly drowned out by the sounds of war.

Virulous wasted no time, moving quickly down the narrow center aisle, barely avoiding the austere narrow metal benches on either side while making her way to the ramp at the back of the small armored troop transport.

She was amazed at how agile the much taller, bulkily armored, and more heavily encumbered soldiers were as they exited the dropship ahead of her. The armored troops carried, not only their weapons, but additional equipment and supplies. She marveled at how gracefully they moved, and with such ease, out of the confined space.

“They must practice this a lot!” she marveled.

As her black medium grade flexible armored boot struck the top of the ramp, Virulous felt as though she had run into a wall of hot humid air saturated with an awful stench. At first she thought it was the stench of death, but it wasn’t very long before she realized it was not death, but filth. Underneath her black rigid armored mask and skull protector Virulous crinkled her nose in objection to the stink.

The Imperial Army platoon she accompanied had been assigned as her security detail, and she was impressed by the tight discipline of the individual members. In less than twenty seconds the thirty men and women had exited the dropship and had already taken up defensive positions among the squalid hovels around the square.

Yavin 4’s star shone brightly, and hotly. She was glad that the hood of her black robes, at least kept the hot rays of the star from directly heating her skull protector and mask. Her robes also kept the star’s direct rays off of her flexible body armor, but the humidity was stifling.

Virulous became thrilled when the high-pitched whine of the engines wound up to a banshee’s scream as the dropship shot upwards, buffeting her in its downdraft and covering the sounds of battle. In a very few seconds, the ear-splitting banshee screams of the engines were themselves drowned out by their unforgiving body-reverberating roar, as the dropship vanished into the sky on its way back to space. In less than a couple of hours it would return with another load of heavy infantry.

Virulous looked around the square, as the maddening roar of ten, space-bound dropships faded into the relative quiet of ordinary explosions and blaster rifle reports. On the ground, in between the damaged and destroyed hovels built on all four sides of the open square, which the dropship had landed in, it became apparent to her that the Massassi didn’t understand the concept of sanitation and hygiene. The evidences were on the ground, here and there, that they did not go far enough away from their hovels to do their business. It also appeared that their idea of garbage disposal was to simply throw it out the doors of their primitive huts. Rotting trash was everywhere.

“These savages better hope I don’t step in any of their messes,” she thought, disgusted by their habits, “I’ll make them pay for soiling my boots!” she thought, imperiously.

The petite Sith lord giggled at how silly that sounded, but for the noise of the battle all around the square, no one heard her. She turned her head on hearing a suddenly intense volley of blaster rifle fire, and noticed a heavily armored soldier making his way to where she took cover.

The heavy infantry Imperial soldier had gotten a bit of a shiver down his spine as he approached the dark Sith lord. As he approached, she turned her head towards him, and under the hood of her black robes, was not a face, but a black void. He imagined that the Arbiter of Death had noticed his existence and had decided to take him to the Nine Hells with her.

The lieutenant squatted before her and gave his report, speaking loudly enough to be heard over the near constant blaster rifle fire, both near and far. As he did, he got a good look under the hood of her robes and could just make out her matte black armored mask which protected her face.

“My lord, I’m Lieutenant Renly Merrick. My platoon has been tasked with providing your security. It is our mission priority. I’m assigning second squad to provide close-in security. They’ll be nearby at all times. I’ll task my other two squads to scout ahead for threats and to cover our rear. In a short time, the entire company will move out, with our platoon covering the rear. We’ll move to the north to make our way to the objective, which is the shrine. Does my lord have any questions?”

“Yes, Lieutenant,” Virulous began, “Exactly how far from the shrine are we, and how long will it take for us to get there?”

“My lord, we are one kilometer from the objective. However, there are an estimated fifteen thousand enemy combatants that have taken up positions around the shrine, and thousands more are attempting to break through our regimental defensive lines to reinforce them. We’ll have to fight our way through the shrine defenders to reach our objective. That might take hours. They have numerical supremacy over us, but it is balanced by our technological supremacy over them.”

“Did you just say that we’re evenly matched?!” Virulous asked, deeply surprised and in disbelief, “Have we suffered many losses?”

“Our losses are minimal, my lord. It’s negligible. However, we are burning through charged battery packs for our weapons at a higher than anticipated rate, and our mobile battery charging units are strained to keep up with the demand.”

“My lord, whatever advantages the Massassi may have in numbers has not been enough to overcome our superior firepower. However, our significantly smaller numbers has prevented us from taking advantage of our superior firepower. We can’t seem to keep up with their ability – and their willingness – to keep reinforcing their lines while dying in waves. However, their numbers will eventually give out. It is fortunate for us that they are mostly armed with throwing spears and bowed weapons….”

Virulous held up her hand for silence and the lieutenant complied, falling silent.

“What are throwing spears and bowed weapons?” she asked.

“My lord, they are incredibly primitive weapons made from tree saplings, with one end tipped with a sharp metal tip. Those are the throwing spears.”

The lieutenant looked around, and very quickly found an example for her to consider. Virulous realized that she’d been seeing them all over the place, but had no idea they were the weapon of the enemy. The lieutenant pointed to a few, much smaller darts with long shafts, sticking from roof tops and into the sides of some of the huts.

“And those projectiles are launched from bowed weapons,” he told the Sith lord.

Virulous became incredulous.

“We are worried about sticks being thrown at us? Sticks?!”

“My lord, our armor and shielding give us limited protection against blaster bolts. However, only our armor is effective against their weapons. Although, we have had a few wounded with the darts launched from their bowed weapons. When the darts hit squarely, and not at an oblique angle, they penetrate the armor. Their throwing spears have caused greater injuries, because of their size and weight. However, they are easy to see coming and to take cover from.

However, we have the most trouble, when the Massassi close to within melee range. More of our troops have died from being struck with a club. The Massassi are huge and powerfully built, my lord. As a result, they do terrific damage when striking us with blunt weapons. Do not underestimate their strength, my lord.”

Virulous could only shake her head in disbelief.

“The most powerful military organization in the galaxy is having trouble with backwards, spear-shaking brutes who don’t even have the sense not to poo where they eat, walk, and sleep!”

After two hours of bloody combat, the company had moved forward only three hundred meters. Massassi bodies lay everywhere, male and female, their very old and their very young. Huts and hovels burned throughout the town. The Imperial soldiers were ordered to be conscious of their environment and try not to set so many fires. The Massassi homes were built of roughly cut wood and thatched roofs.

Virulous laughed when she considered the impossibility of obeying such orders, considering the materials the structures were made from. However, she inspected the surrounding hovels, as she followed her escort platoon, and realized that not only were the soldiers successfully avoiding setting too many fires. The need to take aimed shots to conserve battery power reduced errant blaster bolts that would have otherwise started a hut on fire. However, Virulous also observed Imperial troops actually putting out any fires that had been started.

“It would be a great humiliation if I failed my own mission after their sacrifices,” she thought. Then chiding herself, “If I have time to waste on such pointless sentiments, then I should be meditating and preparing for my coming trial!”

Several hours had passed, and the company had pushed to within a hundred meters of the shrine. Every effort was made to not shoot at the shrine. As a result, there were gaps in their fields of fire, which the Massassi warriors took advantage of, effectively forcing Imperial forces to halt its advance.

Virulous also learned that part of the reason for the Massassi to so staunchly defend the shrine was that a very early attempt to secure and isolate the shrine had failed, alerting the Massassi that it was the objective, and allowing them to reinforce it the way they had. Virulous waxed philosophical about it.

“To me, it’s an attempt to gain power. To the troops, it’s a waste of time and resources to satisfy the whims of a Sith Lord. To the Massassi, however, it is a holy war. They fight for their god.”

At one point, the outer regimental defensive line was breached, when a platoon had been overwhelmed and had to withdraw after running out of charged battery packs for their blaster rifles. The company had been split, forcing it to give way, widening the gap. Several thousand Massassi fighters got through and successfully reinforced the original shrine defenders before the gap was shut with the murderous combination of fires from artillery droids and heavy war droids.

The reports of blaster rifle fire were everywhere, but she nearly jumped out of her skin when a heavy war droid, on the other side of one of the huts, out of her view, let loose a long string of blaster cannon fire. The reports were so loud, that she initially thought it was enemy artillery exploding nearby.

Then she remembered, “The enemy doesn’t have artillery.”

Although they did have a few dozen captured Imperial blaster rifles, which they used effectively until their battery packs expired.

After the evisceration of their lines by the heavy war droid, a gap had opened in the enemy’s defense, allowing the company of Imperial troops to rush into the gap and force the Massassi to reorient their defenses. With the shrine exposed to the Imperial troops the Massassi became desperate, recklessly throwing themselves at Imperial forces, only to be mowed down.

However the company commander had already anticipated this, and had called for a company to reinforce his position. The second company had arrived just as the first company began its push to split the desperate Massassi defenders. With the defenders split, the first company turned left and the second company turned right, pushing the Massassi away from the shrine. The way was effectively opened, to the shrine, for Virulous to exploit.

However, it was too dangerous for her to advance, hundreds of arrows and spears were raining down, not only on the troops of both companies, but in the area on and near the shrine in the gap created by the two Imperial Army companies.

The squad she walked with, tasked with the mission of providing her with personal security, halted and took cover where they could in between the huts. Virulous followed suit, wondering what the situation was ahead. After a short time, she spotted the platoon commander making his way towards her. She waited to hear what he would tell her.

“We are observing special phenomena in the area around the shrine. We believe a Force user is there aiding the Massassi fighters. As a result, we may lose our footing, here and will be forced to withdraw.”

Virulous had never heard Force techniques referred to as special phenomena before, and thought it was funny. However, the mirth she had over it was fleeting as she realized that the Force Ghost was fighting alongside his worshipers.

“My lord, there is another complication,” Lieutenant Merrick told her, “It seems that the town is not isolated. Many hundreds of thousands of warriors, from other towns and villages throughout the region are coming to the aid of these fighters, here. We’re expecting them to make contact with the regimental defensive perimeter within the hour. If that happens, the regiment will be overrun, my lord.”

“What about hitting them with an orbital bombardment?” Virulous asked.

“Orbital bombardment has a huge area off effect. We are within that area. So, that’s out, my lord.”

Virulous realized that time was running out, and that the Lieutenant was telling her to hurry it up, because the regimental commander was about to order an evacuation. The silence between her and the lieutenant had gone on for some time while Virulous thought things through. However, time was short, and the platoon commander wanted the Sith lord to take some kind of action.

“What are your orders, my lord?”

“Can we make a hard push to force them away from the shrine?” she asked the lieutenant, explaining, “I must get to the shrine.”

The lieutenant, produced an audio only field transceiver.

Herf Krill six (HK-6), this is Resh Mern two (RM-2). Dark Actual wants the wall breached so that Dark Actual can access the core sample. Over.”

A short time later came the response.

“RM-2 this is HK-6, stand by for three hundred ticks. You’ll have heavy crate support. Over.”

“Understood. Out,” the platoon leader said, before securing his communicator.

“Alright, my lord,” Lieutenant Merrick said to Darth Virulous, “In five minutes heavy war droids, and possibly artillery droids, will arrive to pour a heavy volume of fire on the enemy. We’ll move in behind the droids and sweep up what’s left. That will open up the area around the shrine. Then you can make your move, my lord.”

“Very well, Lieutenant,” Virulous said soberly.

Very carefully, while concealing her presence to her foe, she concentrated power from the Dark Side. She was going to perform a Dark Force ritual to kill as many of the Massassi near the shrine as she could. In the back of her mind was Darth Nox’s warning that the savages were somewhat resistant to The Force.

Virulous poured everything that she could in saturating herself with utter hatred and fury as she gathered the power of the Dark Side. Having completed his task, Lieutenant Merrick left the presence of the Sith lord and returned to his command post to lead his platoon for the coming action.

He had to step across the narrow dirt street to the huts across the way to keep in cover and out of sight of the Massassi archers. He didn’t tell the Sith lord, but he’d already lost two men dead and six wounded and out of action from archers who’d figured out how to land their darts squarely on target, to get armor penetration.

Plus he had one unlucky blaster cannon operator who’d gotten struck on the head with the shaft of a spear. The spear had missed by a wide margin, but the spear shaft swung like a bat and struck the hapless soldier on his helmeted head. His head was fine; the helmet had done its job, but his neck had broken.

Virulous was startled out of her meditations when the explosive staccato reports of four heavy war droids let off a murderous barrage of blaster cannon fire on the Massassi defenders.

“Platoon, forward!” The lieutenant shouted at the top of his lungs, “Charge!”

Virulous rose to her feet and ran forward with the troops. The entire company that she was with had surged forward in a general assault in one direction, with the other company surging in the opposite direction. Massassi, replacements were already filling in the destroyed lines and threatening to reform their lines defending the shrine. However, the Sith lord let loose her attack.

Eight Massassi collapsed dead outright, and a few dozen more were gravely injured, collapsing to the ground, greatly weakened as Virulous, in a general area attack, vacuumed the life force of anything in that space. The Imperial troops of both companies, supported by medium war droids, pressed their attacks.

The Massassi, tried desperately to reform their lines, but now that the objective was out of danger, the two artillery droids joined the four heavy war droids in delivering a near continuous barrage of heavy blaster cannon fire and artillery blaster fire.

The racket was deafening, but Virulous forced that out of her mind as she found herself face to face with a long dead Sith lord, who was once a female Sith Pureblood. The Force ghost had manifested itself in white robes.

The surviving Massassi chieftains saw Virulous emerge from between the destroyed hovels into the open area around the shrine. His heart sank and he howled in a particular grieving manner. The hordes of Massassi warriors momentarily shifted their attention to the shrine, thinking their enemy was desecrating the home of their goddess, only to see that the situation was much worse.

The Black Goddess of Death had come, as prophesied by their White Goddess of Life. The two goddesses would battle to the death. Their goddesses’ prophesy was absolute and nothing would change it. The Massassi warriors, male and female, elderly, adult, and child alike all began to wail and to throw themselves to the ground in apparent despair.

Imperial troops ceased firing on an enemy which seemed to have given up in despair. The confused troops were unsure of what to do, as officers and sergeants debated what actions to take. Even the droids stopped shooting on orders from their handlers.

The war, for the time being, had come to a sudden halt, as approximately eighteen thousand Massassi warriors, in the immediate area, lay on the ground howling their agonized grief. After tens of generations, the prophesy had finally come to pass, and it happened during their lifetimes. Today, their beloved goddess of life would be defeated by the hated goddess of death.

Virulous had been unnerved by the wailing. Although she did notice that the fighting had stopped and that Imperial forces were reorganizing their lines. In the meantime, here and there, individual Massassi warriors began to sit up, facing towards the shrine. She turned to the Sith Force ghost, unable to contain her curiosity.

“What’s wrong with them?” she asked the ghost.

The Force ghost replied, “Yavragh hari’eem?”

Virulous was flummoxed at hearing an ancient dead language spoken to her. Having studied the ancient writings of many ancient, long dead Sith lords, she understood what was asked, and replied in that ancient dead tongue of the Sith Pureblood.

“What’s happened to them?”

“I have prophesied this day,” the Force ghost replied, explaining, “They are mourning my coming demise.”

Virulous smiled under her armored mask on hearing that.

“So, I’m going to win our coming duel?” she asked the ghost.

“Yes,” the Force ghost answered, smiling back at Virulous, adding, “You will win this duel.”

Virulous realized she was being mocked.

“I have been telling my worshipers that when the Black Goddess of Death defeats the White Goddess of Life, that they were to worship you. They would endure a thousand year reign of death and misery, until the goddess of life returned.

“Now you’ve come. I will gain your body, and continue to reign as their goddess of death. The thing is that as the goddess of death, I shall require that the greatest among the Chieftains battle to the death, to appease my appetite for death, before I depart to the stars to bring death to the tribes of the stars.”

“How do you plan to gain my body?” Virulous asked, the smile under her mask deteriorating.

The Force ghost, told Virulous what she feared to hear.

“The moment you attempt to usurp my existence, I will turn it on you. I will usurp your existence instead and make your living body my own,” the Force ghost confessed.

Darth Nox’s warnings that it would be a battle of life and death began to echo in her mind.

“But how did you know I would come?” Virulous asked, her confidence waning greatly.

“I have waited a very long time for this moment,” the Force ghost admitted, “The Force has shown me this day, and it is finally here!”

Virulous thought about abandoning the ritual, and simply leave the Force ghost behind, but then she thought about how disappointed Darth Nox would be. She could not bear that thought. Especially now, when the dark lord had embraced her, acknowledging her power and welcoming her into his heart.

She also thought about how her reputation would suffer greatly as the officers reported their sacrifices for a Sith lord who then fled, in cowardice, from her own mission, bringing further humiliation to her master, lord, and now lover. His ambitions for the Imperial throne would suffer, and it would be her fault.

“What is your name?” the Force ghost asked.

“Why do you need to know that?” Virulous asked, then attempting to taunt the Force ghost, added, “Once you become my slave, you won’t remember it anyway.”

“The times have changed,” the apparition lamented, “A civil people introduce themselves before a duel to the death. This way the victor will know who it was she defeated.”

“Then tell me your name,” Virulous said, trying to turn the war of words on the ghost.

“I am Arus, Lord of The Sith.”

Virulous was shocked beyond words. She was facing a Sith lord whose writings she’d been studying for years as an archaeologist for the Reclamation Service. She’d learned some of the most effective Force techniques from her writings, and from her master’s writings. This meant that the ghost would know how to defend against every technique that she’d learned from the long dead Sith’s writings.

This also meant that Arus would be using those very techniques against her. She would have to be extremely alert and ready to defend against those techniques.

“Arus is the creator and master of these techniques!” Virulous agonized, bitterly asking herself, “What have I gotten myself into?!”

“I am Darth Virulous,” she said, simply, weakly. Her voice exposing her loss of will.

“Good!” the apparition said, “When I meet with your master, I will know by what name I should be called.

Virulous felt burned by the ghost’s deception, realizing the ghost wanted to know her name so that she could reach Darth Nox.

“If I fail, my love will be in danger,” Virulous thought, cursing her own weakness, “My failure will be his undoing!”

“You know who my master is, too?” Virulous asked, her voice exposing her fear.

“I do not know his name, yet. But I know he is extremely powerful in The Force, a master of the Dark Side, and a very powerful ruler over much of the empire,” Lord Arus said, adding as an aside, “I’m amazed that the Sith Empire has endured as long as it has, but I am glad that when I return to the Imperial capital, that I shall have a new opportunity to rule over the Sith.”

_____________________________________________________________________________________​

A few of the hardened male Massassi warriors, including the survivors among the ten chieftains, ended their mourning and sat up. They took up their duty to resolutely bear witness as the two goddesses faced off. They watched their beloved goddess of life standing her ground against the vile goddess of death. They hoped against hope, but knew there was only one way this would end.

The other Massassi soon began to follow the examples of their leaders, ending their wailing cries and sitting quietly, facing the shrine.

At the Regimental defensive lines, the fighting raged on, as Massassi warriors continued their vain efforts to breach Imperial lines. Meanwhile, hundreds of thousands of Massassi warriors from other towns and villages moved ever closer to the regiment’s defensive position which formed a ring with a radius of two kilometers from the center where the shrine was located.

At the headquarters of both companies at the shrine, official word had been received from regimental headquarters. All fighting at the shrine was to cease, and the two companies tasked with getting Darth Virulous to the shrine were to consolidate their positions and prepare to resume the fighting, or to withdraw upon completion of Darth Virulous’ mission.

Lieutenant Renly Merrick watched, unimpressed, as Virulous stood silently staring off into space. However, there was no doubt that the, now docile, Massassi were captivated by her presence, where she simply stood, staring off at who knew what, where, or when.

“What an incredible waste of time and resources this has all been!” the platoon commander bitterly thought, as he added another name to the list of his dead and wounded, “We have been spilling our blood over nothing! Damn these Sith and their strange and old superstitions!”

_____________________________________________________________________________________​

“I have been a fool!” Virulous despaired, “Why did I think that I could do this? Why did he have to lie to me? I fell in love with him; he knew this, and yet he still betrayed me! He wanted Arus as his apprentice, not me!”

Virulous turned to leave the shrine, taking a few steps, determined to abandon her mission and abandon her master, but then halted in her tracks. She had an epiphany.

“There I go again, feeling sorry for myself!” Virulous thought, excoriating herself, “It is why I have been so pitifully weak! I have been a joke to Khem Val! It is why Darth Nox could not respect me. It is why he has been disappointed in me! I have been my own obstacle!!”

Virulous turned about to face Lord Arus. Underneath her armored mask, her face became a visage of savagery. She remembered what Darth Nox had told her.

“It was because of my strong will that I maintained most of my personality, but if I had not been so stubborn, I might have lost my core being, my core desires. You will not be the same person after you’ve subsumed the Force ghost’s existence. Your personality will also change. If you don’t want to become the other’s personality, then you must exert a strong will.”

“I am Darth Virulous,” the Sith lord proclaimed, “I am the apprentice of Darth Nox, Dark Lord of The Sith. I know everything about you, Arus! You know only that The Force has told you I would come. Your time among the Sith ended seven hundred years ago. Now your reign as goddess of these savages will end today!” Then, remembering something Khem Val loved to say, she added, “You shall become my food!”

Virulous didn’t allow Arus to answer, immediately launching her attack and beginning the ritual.

_____________________________________________________________________________________​

Somehow, word of what had happened at the shrine had reached the Massassi warriors attempting to penetrate the regimental defensive perimeter. They began to wail and to throw themselves onto the ground. Just as the fighting had ground to an unexpected halt at the shrine, Imperial forces seemed to be tripping over themselves as they halted counter attacks and in great confusion, retreated to their defensive positions.

This time, however, the regimental commander ordered the capture of Massassi warriors for interrogations. Regimental Military Intelligence had contacted the Imperial Guard Academy and obtained programming for protocol droid language translation package upgrades.

The Massassi captives were all too eager to talk about their goddess and her prophesies. They had been waiting for the Black Goddess of Death to come challenge their White Goddess of Life. Virulous happened to match that description, but how did they know that it was her? The Massassi captives were asked, this.

“We felt her presence; we felt her disease; she is death, rot, corruption,” was the answer Imperial Military Intelligence officers got back.

_____________________________________________________________________________________​

Lieutenant Merrick had ordered his platoon to eat quickly and to drink water. He sat, watching a still and motionless Sith lord, still staring off into space. He’d just finished eating his rations, and had put his helmet back on again, when he suddenly felt a wave of nausea overcome him.

He felt dizzy and his stomach became adamant about rejecting his just eaten lunch. He quickly removed his helmet and vomited onto the ground in front of him. He cursed under his breath, wondering if he’d caught some strange local virus, but hearing the retching of several of his men and women around him, made him think that they’d been attacked with a biological weapon of some sort.

“Would the Massassi have such weapons?” he asked himself.

Just then, his nausea became much worse, and he became filled with great unreasoning fear. Lieutenant Renly Merrick looked in the direction of the Sith lord and saw that her hands were outstretched as though grabbing at something and pulling it towards herself.

Merrick was shocked into great fear and wonder as he watched the Force ghost of some unknown ancient Sith lord materialize, five meters from where Darth Virulous stood. The Force Ghost, robed in white vestments, itself seemed to be pulling at Virulous.

Lieutenant Merrick took a sip of water from his canteen, rinsed out his mouth, spitting the filthy water from his mouth, before finally donning his helmet, anew. He activated the battlefield visual relay system in his helmet, and after contacting his company commander recommended that the video feed be relayed to the headquarters of both the battalion and regimental commands.

A noisy disturbance caught his attention, and he watched as the warrior-children of the Massassi fled from the otherwise solemn gathering around the shrine and their mothers chase after them. The male adults were retching, too, but they remained where they sat.

He returned his attention to the battling Sith lords, one was his sovereign, the other was an ancient, long dead Sith lord, whom he realized might become his sovereign if the ghost won the battle.

“All my life, I thought the Sith were full of themselves and their silly superstitions,” Merrick thought, disbelieving his eyes, “Now here I am watching a Sith ghost-goddess battling to save her worshipers and to save herself!”

Virulous suddenly went flying, tumbling end over end. The Massassi cheered, but their excitement was short lived as they all seemed to remember that the results of the battle would not change. The Black Goddess of Death had gracefully steadied herself in midair, and then gently settled down onto the firm ground, on her feet.

The goddess of death panting for air, and the goddess of life, a look of great worry on her features, both stood their ground, sizing up the other and contemplating their next moves.

“I didn’t want to do this,” Arus said, disgustedly, “but you leave me with no choice! I didn’t want to damage your body, but you will learn what differentiates us!”

“What, that I’m young and pretty, and you are… ancient and dead?” Virulous replied, tauntingly.

“Soon that will be my young and pretty body. I hope I don’t damage it, too much,” Arus replied, adding, “The difference between you and I is that I can’t feel pain!”

Lieutenant Merrick’s eyes were painfully blinded when a bolt of lightning fell from the sky and struck the spot where Virulous stood. It happened so fast, and the blinding glare of the lightning strike made it impossible for him to see what actually happened. His eyes were full of spots and he couldn’t see directly ahead for several seconds.

“Oooooh!! Lightning to the top of her head!” he exclaimed before asking himself, “What exactly is the protocol for accepting a ghost as a proper authority over a military unit?”

Imperial soldiers under the orders of Sith lords, sometimes found themselves pitted against each other when their respective leaders were locked in battle, but as soon as one or the other was defeated, the soldiers ended their fighting and united under the victorious Sith lord. However, the victor here was a ghost.

“RM-2 to YT-3, how do we report to the Sith ghost if the ghost wins? Over.”

“YT-3 to RM-2, I don’t know that one. I’ll call up the chain of command and find out. Out.”

If it weren’t for the fact that he was broadcasting the video feed up the chain of command to the unit commanders, his question would have seemed ludicrous.

However, as the spots began to clear from his eyes, he was able to make out the petite Sith lord, still standing, an activated lightsaber in one hand, held overhead, as though she had intercepted that bolt of lightning with her weapon. Her other hand was outstretched as though she held something in her grasp.

The Force ghost of her enemy seemed paralyzed, hovering half a meter above the ground and drifting towards the tiny Sith lord. Virulous deactivated her lightsaber, quickly returning it to her utility belt so that she could free her other hand to gain better control of her prey.

The arresting mechanism on her belt failed to activate, and her weapon fell to the ground at her feet. The Sith ghost was in her hands, held there by the power of The Dark Side of The Force. Virulous wore a predator’s grin under her mask as she imitated Khem Val, again.

“Now, I shall feast!”

Virulous did as she was trained. While forcing Arus into her mind, she opened her mouth wide and made as though to take a huge bite out of her prey. Her mind whirled, and the world went into a dizzying spin, before everything went black.

Lieutenant Merrick received a transmission from his company commander.

“Word from the regimental commander is that if the ghost wins, we quickly withdraw, and then report to Darth Nox. We’ll let Darth Nox decide what to do with the ghost.”

“Understood, Captain. Also, I have an update. The ghost is gone and Darth Virulous is down, out of action. I have members of Second squad loading her onto a stretcher. Can you send a battlefield med team to the shrine?”

As Merrick’s commanding officer answered in the affirmative and prepared to send him the med team, the lieutenant watched his men flung about like dolls. Most of the squad members scrambled to their feet and ran from the groggy-headed Sith lord who moved sluggishly as she sat up. A few had hit the ground particularly hard and had trouble moving, but they did their best to crawl away from the awakening Sith lord.

The petite Sith rose from the stretcher and staggered her first half dozen steps as she meandered, unable to move in a straight line before coming to an unsteady stop. The greatly disoriented and unsteady Sith lord placed a hand to the side of her head, shaking it as though trying to clear it. She nearly lost her balance.

Then looking around where she stood, she spotted one of his injured men who’d finally gotten up to limp his escape from the Sith lord. The Sith lord reached her hands towards him. His man collapsed to the ground in a heap. She looked around again, and again reaching for a young injured soldier as she did her best to crawl away. Suddenly she stopped moving altogether, no longer crawling.

“Blast!” Merrick cursed under his breath, “She’s killing my people!”

The tiny package of death looked about her surroundings and her black void of a face, under the black hood of her robes, locked onto him. The Sith lord walked much more steadily, making her way to where he had been taking cover.

“Blast it all!” he cursed, again under his breath.

As the Sith lord approached, with each step that she took towards him, he felt weaker and sicker.

He collapsed onto the ground where he’d been crouching. It took a great deal of effort to roll onto his back, as he fought for air, despite having removed his helmet. His face was bathed in his sweat, as the Arbiter of Death came to a stop, standing over him.

“I am done here. Order the troops to withdraw. Have one dropship waiting for me at the square where we landed, and the Hammer Strike waiting for me in orbit. I shall return to the Hammer Strike when I have finished my business with the Massassi.”

The Sith lord turned and walked back to the pristine white shrine. The further away she’d gotten from him the better he felt. After a few moments, he finally felt strong enough to relay her orders to his company commander.

Lieutenant Merrick thought to himself as he made his report. “She sounded the same, but why did she seem like someone else….”

After relaying her orders, he watched as she sat on the small stone bench and briefly felt a terrible crushing force. He became mystified by what he saw at the shrine.

_____________________________________________________________________________________​

The Massassi watched as the goddess of death rose unsteadily to her feet. She staggered towards the servants whom she tossed aside and then devoured their souls. She then spoke to the chief of her servants. The black armored warriors who served their black goddess began to quickly withdraw and leave their city, roaring back into the sky, to the stars.

The Massassi could feel the dark disease of Ssassahnnah as she neared them, making her way to the altar of Arus-sahnai. The altar was constructed of crudely carved white chalky stone blocks, slabs, and pillars. A set of rough steps ascended to a dais upon which a crude bench was set; the throne of Arus-sahnai.

Dozens of large, colorful clay pottery jars sat on the columns. They were each covered with snugly fitting lids, which kept the contents dry, the black sooty ashes of burnt offerings to Arus-sahnai collected over many long centuries.

The six survivors among the Ten Chieftains, the many hundreds of war-band leaders, and their tens of thousands of warrior followers all sat quietly, witnessing the beginning of the reign of their new goddess. Ssassahnnah ascended the white steps of the alter. On the dais, she turned about to face them all. The black goddess of death slowly swept her black void of a face, first this way and then that way, as she regarded the massive horde of Massassi warriors, sitting quietly and waiting.

Ssassahnnah, Black Goddess of Death, sat on the bench. The instant her fundament made contact with the crude throne, the dozens of clay jars all shattered explosively, sending out black and dark grey clouds of soot and ash. When the clouds of ash had settled, the pristine white chalky stone alter where stained black and grey. The ground immediately around the shrine was covered in the dark ash.

To the Massassi, the era of darkness and death had begun. Many generations of great sorrow loomed ahead of them.

The six survivors of the Ten Chieftains rose to their feet and approached the alter of Ssassahnnah. They stopped outside of the ash covered area around the alter and bent themselves, lowering to their hands and knees, before lying prostrate before the Black Goddess of Death.

The goddess of death spoke in the primitive Massassi language.

“I have eaten Arus-sahnai, White Goddess of Life, yet I still hunger. I shall consume all of the Massassi,” the dread goddess of death declared, then commanded, “bring all of your people before me, so that I may feast.”

The chieftains were greatly troubled by this. The senior most among them spoke.

“Dread goddess of death, spare our people! We beseech you! Fulfill the prophesy and travel to the stars to devour the people of the stars!”

The other chieftains chorused their elder chieftain.

“Devour the people of the stars!”

“Give me a sacrifice!” Ssassahnnah demanded.

The Massassi were greatly saddened by this. Yet, they obeyed. All had been foreseen by their beloved white goddess of life, Arus-sahnai. An era of sorrow, misery, and ceaseless death was about to descend on the Massassi peoples, unless they could convince the Black Goddess of Death to leave their world for a year, to return again for a fresh sacrifice.

The chieftains, already versed, had already prepared the sacrifice. In short order, sixty Massassi adult males, sixty adult females, and sixty cubs were rushed forward and forced to their knees before the goddess of death. The chieftains then quickly retreated, giving a wide berth from the shrine, lest they too, be consumed.

Ssassahnnah seemed to be inspecting the offering brought before her. The elder chieftain began to worry that the black goddess of death found the sacrifice insufficient. However, she suddenly reached with both hands towards the sacrificial pawns. The Massassi watched as the one hundred and eighty victims all collapsed, limply.

The elder chieftain was saddened that she had reached into the masses of those seated before her and had take several of those as well. He was glad, however, that he had gone far enough back to avoid being consumed by the goddess of death, Ssassahnnah.

Ssassahnnah signaled to the elder chieftain, and he immediately lifted himself to his hands and knees, before speaking in a loud voice, so that all could hear.

“Oh dread goddess of death, what is the will of Ssassahnnah?!” he asked.

“I am full. I am satisfied. I shall depart for the stars.” the black goddess declared, “There, I shall feast on the endless souls of the peoples of the stars. I shall spare your people, but I shall return in a thousand years for a sacrifice.”

Not only the elder chieftain, but all of the Massassi who heard Ssassahnnah took note of the discrepancy. The prophecy, as given by Arus-sahnai, had deviated, but for the better. The people remained silent, however, not wishing to give the goddess any ideas of returning every year for her sacrifice.

The goddess continued to command her worshipers.

“Build a statue of me and worship my image so that you will never forget me,” Ssassahnnah commanded, adding, “I may return from time to time to demand your service, but in a thousand years I shall require a huge sacrifice of your people.”

The elder chieftain, overjoyed, shouted, “We obey your will, dread goddess! We will build an idol of you, and shall worship you forever! We shall always be ready to obey the will of Ssassahnnah!”

The petite goddess of death rose to her feet and immediately walked down the soot stained stone steps and left her alter and her worshipers where they sat knelt or lay prostrate. Her departure was quite sudden and unceremonious.

_____________________________________________________________________________________​

The petite Sith lord made her way quickly to the crude neighborhood square where she had first landed with the escort platoon. The dropship was waiting for her there, along with her escort platoon and their dead.

The petite Sith lord ascended the ramp, at the back of the dropship and entered the troop compartment. As she entered, she had to step over each of the eight dead bodies of the soldiers in body bags and laid side by side on the deck of the transport.

The men and women sitting on the crude benches were somber. Some of them dared to turn eyes filled with hatred and fury towards her, as she passed by where they sat. Six of their comrades where injured by her. They had escaped and had already been taken to medivac shuttles.

However, the Sith lord was lost in her thoughts and hadn’t noticed the hostile looks of the troops in the transport. The Sith lord finally reached her bench at the front of the troop compartment and sat, facing the rear towards the ramp which was already closed but was still sealing itself against the vacuum of space.

As in the descent to the battle field, the heavily armored troops had their backs to her, their helmets at their feet. So, she could not see their faces then, either. The fury and hatred the troops had for her was because she had murdered two of their comrades. Two of the eight dead were her victims.

Lieutenant Merrick seethed in abject fury. From the crew compartment, apart from his troops. He watched the Sith lord through the armored transparisteel portal. Although, he couldn’t see her face behind her mask, he could tell by the way she stepped over his dead, and the way she sat, that the presence of his fallen subordinates did not even register with her.

He watched as the ramp came up and shut tight. The crew chief, seated at the very back, next to the ramp called out its status.

“Ramp is up. Seal is made. We’re space worthy.”

With that, the dropship’s whining engines increased their banshee screams and the troop carrier lurched up into the air, accelerating to low orbital velocity. In forty minutes time, the dropship would land in its landing bay aboard the Terminus-class star destroyer, the Hammer Strike. After unloading, it would return to the surface to pick up another load of Imperial Soldiers.

 

I've seen this advertised over on FF.net! It's nice to see someone else who cross posts.

 

I'm glad that you've noticed my postings! I post in a few places:

FF.net, here, the FF forum at the SWTOR forums, in a couple of groups on Gab, and I'm waiting to get my AO3 invite, so that I could post there, too.

I hope you'll give my story a shot and give it a read some time! And if you have been reading it, thank you!! I hope you are enjoying my take on what Sith (and Jedi) were like during the Old Republic Era!!

 

Chapter 15: Experiments and Lures​

At the second hour of the morning, three hundred sublevels down, within The Citadel in Darth Nox’s opulent office, the tired and frightened youth was on his hands and knees. His master had summoned him a few hours before. His forehead touched the center of the deep black and brilliant yellow ten thousand meter square rug, a prize of war from a noble family’s palace on Alderaan.

The dark lord had risen from his very comfortable office chair behind his massive highly polished natural wood desk, another prize of war. Darth Nox had claimed this extraordinarily beautiful and expensive desk from the office of the chairman of the huge multi-world business conglomerate, Czerka Corporation, headquartered on Corellia.

The dark lord, dressed in his blood red and deep black medium grade flexible armor, walked from around the back of the wide desk and made his way unhurriedly to the trembling youth. Nox wanted to see how much of his Dark Side aura the boy could tolerate before devolving into an unreasoning, weeping, terror filled mess. His foul, crushing aura was indeed having a terrible effect on the poor young acolyte.

By the time Nox stopped just in front of the tormented preadolescent, he was laboring to breathe, was whimpering, trembling, and curled up into the fetal position.

“Use The Force to keep my presence out of your mind,” Nox said, helpfully, “Think of The Force as a shell that shields your mind from harm.”

Nox raised an eyebrow, impressed, as he watched the youth begin to recover almost immediately, returning to his hands and knees, forehead touching the rug.

“Even through all of that,” the dark lord thought, “he understood me and had the wherewithal to actually put what I said into practice.”

It was obvious to the dark lord that his aura was still affecting the young acolyte, but now he was managing his terror, and maintaining a hold of his senses. Nox nodded slowly his great approval.

“He is strong!” the dark lord thought, “He learns fast! He needs only a good teacher in Dark Force rituals, and eventually he would become a great and fearsome Sith lord,” It then hit him, “He’s Overseer Ragate’s worst student?!”

Nox gave a tiny shrug at that realization.

“It’s a shame he got picked for this experiment,” he thought, somewhat regretfully, “However, his strength will give a more realistic result for the experiment. I must consider that if I try the technique, that I might face a powerful foe.”

“Remember this lesson,” Nox instructed his poached talent.

“As you command, Master,” the young acolyte replied, his voice quavering.

“Prepare for departure,” Nox commanded, “Gather supplies and acquire appropriate clothing for yourself. Speak to any of the Imperial soldiers for advice on what types of clothing and supplies are appropriate for a three day expedition in the deep jungle. Return here in four hours.

“The jungle is not for the weak. You will be eaten alive if you are ill prepared. Do not expect me to save you. This is your training. You must survive on your own.”

“As you command, master,” the young man replied. To himself he lamented, “What will happen to me in the jungle?!”

As if in answer to his question, the dark lord continued his lecture.

“The jungles of Dromund Kaas are replete with viciously wild beasts, pernicious insects, and poisonous plants. Seek the advice of military medical personnel as to what ointments, salves and medicines you must take with you for this expedition and bring those, too,” Nox instructed.

“Yes, Master.”

Nox pulled a credit card with a hundred and fifty thousand credits programmed into it from his utility belt. Stooping down, he slipped the card into the youth’s fingers.

“Return to me, here, in four hours,” Darth Nox repeated, straightening up again.

“As you say, Dark Lord,” the youth said. His voice much more under control, he asked, “May I go, Master?”

“Go,” Nox commanded.

The strength in the youth’s voice did not escape the dark lord’s notice. Nox turned about to make his way back to his luxurious office chair behind his desk and quite suddenly turned off his dark and foul aura. The youth found that he could breathe normally again, and that the terrorizing, crushing sensation was instantly gone.

He quickly rose to his feet and gladly escaped from Nox’s foul presence to carry out his preparations for the coming expedition into the dark forests of Dromund Kaas. Exiting his master’s office, the young acolyte became conscious of the credit card in his hand and pocketed it.

As Nox sat in his luxurious office chair, he considered how quickly the boy had grown with just this brief training session.

“It will not be easy for Lord Khartem’kahl. I hope he is prepared,” the dark lord thought.

The more he thought of the potential the youth had to become a great Sith lord, the more reluctant he became of using him for the experiment.

“He could actually benefit me as my servant,” Nox thought.

Nox almost convinced himself to spare the youth, but shook his head resolutely.

“No. Lord Khartem’kahl must be given a real challenge if the experiment is to be conducted under realistic conditions.”

_____________________________________________________________________________________​

The ship pilot shut down the engines, and the banshee scream of the Imperial shuttle wound down.

The ship commander who piloted the shuttle, and the copilot who doubled as the navigator, opened the hatch at the back of the cockpit and entered the troop compartment. The load master, who was also the safety chief, a staff sergeant by rank, had already unloaded some of their picnic gear. The officers lent a hand offloading the rest of the items. Their VIP passengers were long gone.

The three Imperial soldiers set up a metal folding field table and metal folding chairs, a portable plasma cook stove with grill attachment, and their portable refrigeration unit. Soon, they would have a rather nice barbecue picnic at the very outskirts of the temple grounds.

Two medium grade war droids provided security while the three Imperial soldiers enjoyed a peaceful midmorning respite. They planned for this barbecue since they knew they would be far from their army base and the strict requirements of military life. However, this respite would only last until Darth Nox and his acolyte returned from their training mission.

Meanwhile, Nox and his acolyte marched ahead of a column of twenty one droids. Ten medium duty work droids carried Nox’s supplies and scientific instruments. Also, this time, instead of six medium duty security droids – like the last time – Nox took no chances, bringing major firepower with him. The security detail consisted of eight medium grade war droids and two heavy war droids. Of course, he also brought a maintenance droid to care for any maintenance the other droids might require.

Nox found that he had to slow the pace of their trek down so that the boy could keep up. Although this frustrated him, he did not berate the youth. He didn’t want the boy so exhausted that he could not offer a credible challenge to Khartem’kahl during the experiment.

After their long slog through the knee high grasses and plants covering the temple grounds, the dark lord reached the Dark Temple at the center of the temple complex. Nox allowed the young acolyte to rest and eat a meal at the bottom of the grand stairs at the foot of the temple. Then, as always, he directed his work droids to unpack and assemble his scientific instruments. With the devices assembled, Nox ensured they were properly positioned and calibrated, adjusting their settings.

All was in readiness.

Nox descended the broad temple stairs, covered knee high in broad leafed plants. At the bottom of the stairs, he found his acolyte crouching, deeply engrossed with his examination of an insect he’d captured. Using The Force, as unobtrusively as possible, very gently so as not to be noticed by the acolyte, Nox sensed the youth’s state and found that the novice’s mind was wide open.

“Remember what I taught you about shielding your mind with The Force,” Nox cautioned the youth.

“Yes, Dark Lord,” the young acolyte replied.

Freeing the captured creature, the youth stood and turned about to face his master. Despite Nox’s reminder, the acolyte failed to understand that Nox was advising him to bring up his mind’s defenses, not just to remember how it was done. However, Nox had ended his examination of the acolyte’s mind, and hadn’t realized the acolyte’s continued failure to defend his mind.

“If I’m to see the success or failure of this technique, then I must make it as difficult for Khartem’kahl as possible,” Nox thought, as he watched the freed insect leap, from plant to plant, making its escape.

“Everything is in readiness,” Nox told the acolyte, and then commanded the youth, “come to me.”

“As you say, Master.”

The youth obeyed, ascending a few steps to reach his master.

When he was within arms’ length of the dark lord, Nox grabbed the youth’s shoulder and spun him about, so that the acolyte’s back was to him. Nox then quickly attached a shock collar to the back of the youth’s neck. The dark lord then activated the pain compliance device and then spun the youth about again, to face him.

“If anything goes wrong with your training,” Nox lied to the young acolyte, “I’ll zap you to your senses, or knock you out. After you’ve recovered, we’ll go over what went wrong, and then you’ll try again.”

The youth, feeling uneasy, reflexively reached for the shock collar.

“Ah! Don’t touch that!”

Too late.

The youth came to a quarter hour later.

“Don’t you know better than to touch a shock collar?” Nox asked, laughing at the youth.

“Sorry, Master. I won’t do that again.”

“How’s your head? Can you think clearly?” Nox asked, genuinely concerned.

The dark lord wanted to be certain that nothing would go wrong with the coming experiment and the data that he would collect. If the youth’s mind was not functioning normally, that data collection might get skewed results. Nox also worried of getting a false positive result if the youth was still woozy from the shock. Neither did he want the Force ghost to gain an unfair advantage because of the shock the boy had suffered. That, too, would skew his data, and therein lay the cause of Nox’s concern, not the youth’s wellbeing.

“I’m fine, Master,” the youth replied, sheepishly.

“Then follow me,” Nox commanded as he turned to climb up the ancient wide, plant-covered temple stairs.

It had been only a month since Nox confronted Khartem’kahl at the Dark Temple. His droids had cleared the vegetation and soil which had covered the veranda before the confrontation, so there was no need to clean off the massive stone slab again. Nox pointed at a metal stool set in the center of the array of instruments he’d set up for the coming experiment.

“Sit there.”

“Yes, Master.”

The youth sat on the stool, while Nox went about activating each device, ensuring that they were operating properly.

“What are these machines, Master?” the youth asked.

“They will take many measurements, grading your performance,” Nox partially lied.

The dark lord walked to the edge of the veranda, outside the ring of instruments and closed his eyes. He reached out with The Force, until he sensed Khartem’kahl’s presence.

“I’m am returned, Lord Khartem’kahl. All is in readiness.”

The youth wondered what strange language it was that his master spoke. He’d never heard anything like it. It was gibberish to the youth. The young acolyte became amazed, however, as a Force ghost materialized beside his master. He watched his master speak again in that gibberish tongue to the Force ghost.

“This boy is inexperienced, but he is very strong in The Force. You might even say he’s a natural at control of The Force. Do not underestimate him; it will be your undoing if you do.” Turning to face the long dead Sith lord, Nox asked, “You’ve been practicing what I’ve taught you?”

Khartem’kahl did not answer Nox. He merely turned to the youth and reached his ghostly hands for the acolyte where he sat. The Force ghost vanished from view, and the youth lost his balance and fell from his stool. Nox merely waited for what would happen next.

It wasn’t long, but the ghost of Khartem’kahl reappeared beside Nox. A look of furry betrayed his frustration at having failed. The acolyte, groggy eyed began to pick himself up, shaking his head as though trying to clear it.

“What difficulty did you have? Tell me,” Nox worriedly demanded of the ancient Sith lord.

“It is as you have said. He is strong, and he is a natural,” the ghost confessed, before adding, “He has quickly learned how to stop me. I almost had him.”

“He seems not to be himself,” Nox observed before urging the ghost, “Try again, before he completely recovers.”

The Force ghost, again vanished, the young man, again collapsed, and Nox, again waited.

After a time, the young man stirred, but the ghost did not reappear. Nox smiled in triumph.

“Ha!” he shouted in exultation.

Nox prepared his audio only recorder ready for the interview that would follow.

The individual that had once been the boy looked at Nox and spoke.

“Master, I won! I beat that Force ghost!”

Greatly surprised, Nox realized that Khartem’kahl had failed. Needless to say, Nox was both bitterly disappointed, and deeply shocked. He did not expect the ritual to fail. Nox mastered his emotions however, and succeeded in hiding his true feelings about the matter.

Determined not to let this failure be a complete waste, he decided to interview the boy to learn how the young acolyte had succeeded, perhaps there was some danger that he’d overlooked. Perhaps, something that he could learn that would allow him to avoid the same pitfall in the future.

“You have done well, Acolyte. I am deeply pleased in your success,” Nox successfully lied, adding, “It is as Darth Virulous had said. You have great potential.”

“Thank you, Master!” the youth said, smiling proudly.

“Tell me of your experience. How did you defeat your enemy?”

“Master,” the youth explained, “When he tried to get into my body, and tried to push me out, I did like you said and used The Force to guard my mind. Then I noticed that his soul was tied to that old stone block, over there.”

“The blasted kid’s mind was wide open, yet Khartem’kahl failed?!” Nox thought, amazed.

Had the youth more experience, he would not have explained anything, but kept his secrets. As it was, he pointed at the slab, which both he and Nox walked to. It was a large stone tablet, with engravings worn from thousands of years of rainfall, embedded into one of the massive columns at the corner of the veranda.

As they took their last few steps to the stone slab, Nox surmised that Khartem’kahl must have been killed right at this spot.

“Right at the moment of his death he attached his being to a random stone slab!” Nox thought in amazement, “He must have been ambushed and still had the presence of mind to complete the ritual.”

“I pulled him apart from the stone block, and he just disappeared, Master,” the youth said.

“And yet, this inexperienced boy defeated him,” Nox thought to himself, respecting the youth’s raw potential.

“And now he is One with The Force,” Nox observed, aloud, before asking, “If the stone slab were out of your view, say for instance, on the opposite side of this column, would you have made that connection? Would you have been able to sever his connection to the stone slab?”

“No, Master. I was lucky that I saw his soul stretching to the stone.”

“Not only have you learned how to shield your mind from his attack, and bought yourself time to think of a way to fight back, but you also learned how to defeat a Force ghost. Well done,” Nox said, this time, truthfully. Yet he thought to himself, “Now I know how to defeat a Force Ghost, and what I need to do to protect myself, when that day comes.”

“Thank you, Master,” the youth replied, adding with heartfelt gratitude, “I am glad that Darth Virulous took me out from school.”

“School?” Nox thought, incredulous, “He actually thinks the ancient Sith Academy is some ordinary school?”

“It seems that it will be worth my while to continue your training,” Nox lied again, “Learning your name will not be a waste. Tell me your name.”

“Master, my name is Lennell Juuntos,” the young acolyte replied, his chest swelling with pride, “I am deeply honored that you will teach me more. Thank you, Master.”

Lennell bowed before Nox.

Nox turned away from the youth and returned to his instruments. Before shutting down the devices, he proceeded to ensure that the data which had been collected by his instruments had properly saved. Nox then carefully removed the datacards, placing them in datacard cases and replacing them with blank datacards. He then ordered the work droids to pack everything up.

The dark lord then approached the young acolyte.

“Turn around.”

Lennell obeyed, and Nox proceeded to deactivate and remove the shock collar. Lennell rubbed the back of his neck as he turned about to face his master.

“How many credits have you got left in the credit card?” Nox asked his still unwanted apprentice.

“I didn’t need as much as you gave me, Master. I still have a hundred and fifteen thousand credits left.”

“Such naive honesty,” Nox thought, disapprovingly, while carefully studying the youth’s face and reading his emotions like an open book, “Despite learning what I taught him about shielding his mind, and what he’d just gone through, he keeps his mind unprotected!”

“Darth Virulous said that you’ve been at the academy for six months.”

“Yes, Master.”

“And he is still this naive and so childish!” Nox thought, greatly amazed, “No wonder Ragate considers him her worst student!”

“The training has ended faster than I had anticipated,” Nox lied, before truthfully adding, “I must go on to another experiment. After the shuttle has dropped me and my equipment, you shall return to the city. Find accommodations there. Wait for my summons, I shall give you your assignment.”

“Yes, Master.”

In fifteen minutes, the work droids had packed everything up. Meanwhile, Nox quickly devoured an unheated military field ration. Shortly thereafter, the two Sith once again marched at the head of the column of droids as they returned to the shuttle waiting at the edge of the temple grounds.

The crew had long ago put their picnic away and were merely lounging, waiting for their very important passengers. It was a lazy day for them.

_____________________________________________________________________________________​

Two hours later, Nox was marching at the head of his droids, disappearing into the dense jungle just before the shuttle lifted off.

The Imperial shuttle, with the acolyte the dark lord had no use for, made a lazy turn overhead as it settled on its heading, making its way back to Kaas City. It would be a four and a half hour flight for the acolyte, who was glad that he would be Nox’s apprentice and not Zash’s.

“Darth Virulous was right! This is way more fun!” Lennell thought, never realizing that he was supposed to die in this training.

_____________________________________________________________________________________​

Deep in the dense rain forests of Dromund Kaas was another, virtually unknown and nearly forgotten, ancient Sith temple. It was a place where ancient Sith belonging to a small sect, considered heretics by most, attempted to find what they believed was the Complete Force.

They sought to access the full might of The Force, neither Dark Side, nor Light Side, but just The Force. A spy had managed to infiltrate their small cult and betrayed them to Lord Pharshol. Lord Pharshol, together with his apprentice Anyarah, had attacked the cultists as they meditated and prepared for their Force ritual.

Lord Pharshol and Anyarah slaughtered all twenty eight cultists, demonstrating that the Dark Side of The Force was where true power resided. In the aftermath of the slaughter, Lord Pharshol proceeded to destroy the heretical teachings and research of these cultists. He ran his lightsaber through every holocron the cultists had which contained everything they’d discovered. He even set fire to the place and shattered the granite foundation which caused the stone and resicrete structure to collapse and crumble over time.

A few thousand years later, Darth Zash had just elevated her apprentice, Kallig, to Lord of The Sith. Kallig, as Nox used to be known, and his unwilling apprentice Ashara Zavros, a Jedi padawan that he had turned to his dark service a few months before his promotion, had been on a training mission in the deep jungles of Dromund Kaas.

They were far from any civilized center on the planet, far removed from any roads or any isolated facility. The two quite literally nearly ran into the ruined structure, stopping less than arm’s reach from the ancient ruined stone and resicrete which was heavily covered in vines and obscured by other jungle plant growth.

Kallig noted the ruins’ location on his datapad and forwarded the coordinates and an image of the vine covered object to the Imperial Reclamation Service.

“Be sure you keep me apprised of any writings or any Sith relics found,” Lord Kallig ordered the military archaeologists, adding, “Send me copies of any reports made about this excavation.”

“Yes, Lord. I’ll see to it,” the droid taking the message said.

Kallig was a Sith within the sphere of influence known as the Sphere of Ancient Knowledge. He was apprentice to Zash who was the subordinate of Thanaton. In those days, Darth Thanaton was the dark lord seated over the Sphere of Ancient Knowledge.

Nearly ten years later, Darth Nox had returned to the excavated ruins. He was struck by such a pang of nostalgia as he recalled his and Ashara’s accidental discovery. He remembered being disappointed in the report given him by the archaeologists.

No writings nor intact relics had been found in the ruins, except for one intact stone tablet which chronicled the destruction of the temple. The evidence which showed just how violently the destruction was carried out endured in the condition of the ruined temple: a destroyed foundation, extensive vitrification which was evidence of a massive fire, and no pieces of ancient stone tablets larger than a thumbnail, with most of those pieces missing, impossible to piece together.

The chronicle was the only intact artifact left in the ruins, which in the ancient Sith script read:

“Behold the ruin which has befallen the pathetically weak defilers! They sought to corrupt the holy majesty that is the Dark Side of The Force with the weak corruptible Light Side! Let all be warned that I, Lord Pharshol shall bring death and ruin to all heretics!”

A replica of the stone tablet had been left at the site, with the original housed in a museum. Along with the displayed tablet was a holographic image of the ruined temple and another holographic approximation of what that temple might have looked like before its destruction. The garb of the imagined heretical Sith, used to show the scale of the temple, looked suspiciously like Jedi vestments.

Nox returned to this isolated spot numerous times over the past few years to conduct various secret research experiments. The soil and vegetation which had buried the ancient ruins almost to the tops of the roof support columns had been removed during the archaeological excavation, leaving a deep pit, walled with huge durasteel plate wall sections to keep the pit from filling in.

Since his last visit, small shrubs and numerous vines had sprouted all around and all over the ruined stone structure deep in the five hundred meter by five hundred meter dig site. The jungle had, once again, begun to reclaim its prize at the center of the huge archaeological pit, just as was occurring at the Dark Temple several hundred kilometers northeast of his present location.

Nox ordered his work droids to remove the vegetation that had grown on the metal grate stairs. With the steps cleared, he led his droids down into the archaeological pit and across the huge open space to the small temple in the center of the decommissioned dig site.

At the temple, his medium duty work droids went about clearing the vegetation and soil which had accumulated since the excavation ten years before. The temple was only fifty meters to a side, but the open grounds had shards of stone tablets and other evidences of activity at the temple which held the interests of the Imperial Reclamation Service when the dig site was active.

Nox didn’t need the entire temple cleared; his droids only cleared the steps and the veranda leading to where the main entrance would have been. Then, under his supervision, his droids went about unpacking and assembling his instruments.

Meanwhile, the war droids stood guard or conducted security perimeter patrols within the pit. Nox didn’t expect bandits or enemies, but the wild creatures of Dromund Kaas’ jungles were always a threat which he could not ignore.

Nox directed his work droid detail, instructing them on how to set up the lab table. His droids bolted it to the ancient stone floor, a single huge slab of granite with one of the corners broken off. The broken granite slab was a testament to the fury of Lord Pharshol, as he wrecked this ancient place of heresy. Next a large durasteel tub was clamped to the lab table, so that it wouldn’t slide off the table during the experiment.

Next, Nox directed his droids to fill the tub with a slurry mixture of soil, clay dirt, and various organic materials which he’d brought with him. Nox had one of the droids continually stir the slurry so that its contents would not settle to the bottom of the tub.

As the droids busied themselves with clean up and securing the canisters which had held the ingredients, Nox left the pit, climbing the metal grate steps and delving into the jungle on the hunt for fresh prey. It wasn’t very long before Nox found himself stalked by a very fierce predator. He’d spotted a vine tiger, a species found natively in the jungles of Dromund Kaas.

He knew that this particular predator hunted in packs of two or three and sometimes four.

“I should have brought Khem Val with me!” Nox thought, regretfully.

The dark lord Force leapt up to a large tree bough high up from the forest floor. The three bests stalking him froze still, but Nox had already spotted one of the two cubs before leaping to the tree limb. From his vantage point Nox spotted the other cub, and after a bit of careful searching, their mother.

“She is no beast! She is a monster!” Nox thought, truly impressed, his heart beginning to race.

The cubs were chest high to him, so they were probably at least four months old. Their mother was large enough to look down on him if she wasn’t crouching down in the brush. Nox knew of these creatures’ intelligence. He knew they would soon change their plans, and they did.

Their mother made two quick distinct growling sounds. Her second growl was an octave lower than the first. Instantly, the two vine tiger cubs dashed forward, running past Nox’s tree. As soon as they’d gotten behind him, they stopped, turned, and looked up at him.

Nox’s heart pounded in his chest. He was thrilled, and he was scared. He kept his eyes on the cubs’ mother. She remained still, crouching fifty meters from the tree. After a bit, Nox realized that she was the diversion as it occurred to him that one of the cubs might be climbing the tree.

Looking behind himself, Nox saw that one of the cubs had indeed climbed halfway up the tree trunk, but was climbing no higher. Nox’s instincts told him he was in immediate danger of dying. Adrenaline shot through his system, causing his heart to jump into hyperspace.

As soon as her prey on the tree branch turned to look at her cubs, she uncoiled her wound up crouched body, surging thirty meters in one bound, and then leaping the remaining twenty meters to the branch, ten meters above the jungle floor, where her prey had perched itself.

The beast hadn’t counted on its quarry to leap up higher into the tree. She expected her prey to obliviously stay put or to jump down from the branch to flee. The vine tiger could tell right away that her prey wouldn’t make it to the next limb which could support his weight. She twisted in the air, with her four viciously clawed paws facing upwards so that she could catch him as he fell back towards the ground.

“Damnation!” Nox cursed.

He used too much power in The Force when he tried leaping higher into the tree. The big tree branch gave way from under his feet, snapping with a very loud crack, like a shot. As a result, he didn’t generate enough momentum to go high enough to reach the branch. He grabbed his sabrestaff and twisted his body in midair to face behind himself.

As he began to descend, he activated one end of his sabrestaff and held it at the far end of the staff hilt to extend his reach. His empty off hand crackled with electrical Force energy as he prepared to fight for his life.

Nox was struck with a sudden pang of fear as he saw that the beast had calculated his failed leap and had oriented itself so that he would descend into the vine tiger’s bosom, its paws were spread wide, ready to catch Nox in a razor clawed embrace.

The vine tiger watched the deep red stinger emerge from its prey’s appendage and instinctively knew that stinger meant death. Rather than capturing her prey in its huge razor sharp clawed paws, the vine tiger swatted Nox off to the side. It did not get away unscathed, however, as the behemoth cat felt a very strange and exceedingly painful sensation.

The muscles of the forepaw and foreleg it used to swat its prey away spasmed violently from a very strange, burning sensation as though fire raged within its entire limb. The vine tiger tumbled in the air, so that it could land on all fours, but when its right forepaw impacted the jungle floor, twenty meters beyond Nox’s tree, the pain in its foreleg was so great that it couldn’t maintain any weight on it. The huge cat tumbled uncontrollably across the jungle floor until it slammed into another tree, hurting its back.

The huge beast got up and limped into the dense jungle foliage, favoring its right foreleg. Mother vine tiger gave another distinct growl and her cubs darted after her into the vegetation, their prey abandoned.

Darth Nox regained consciousness and found himself wedged within the branches of a very large and thick bush. The many branches of the bush had broken his fall. Nox’s medium grade flexible armor saved him from the vine tiger’s claws, but his left forearm was in a lot of pain, and the pain on the left side of his rib cage made it very difficult for him to move freely.

With his right hand, Nox wrestled the branches out of his way as he struggled to reach his medi-aid kit on his utility belt. Nox’s hand began to shake from his growing fear, knowing the huge predator was still nearby. He knew that if he opened the aid kit on his belt in his current state that he’d likely lose the contents to the jungle floor beneath his perch. He stopped, closed his eyes and tried to will his hand to cease trembling.

He knew that the vine cat would resume the hunt and that the fierce beast would soon find him. Nox closed his eyes again, this time filling himself with hatred and fury. This finally drove out the fear.

Now that he was in a very foul mood, he opened his eyes and again reached for the medi-aid kit, opening it. He extracted a kolto injector, closed the aid kit and then proceeded to administer two doses of kolto on two places of his left bicep.

Pressing the injector against his armor activated the device, causing the needle to lance through the heavy fabric armored sleeve of his tunic, and into his bicep, instantly shooting a full dose of kolto, then instantly withdrawing into the injector.

The pain from each shot lasted only a few seconds and was insignificant, compared to what that blasted beast had done to him. He waited for the pain on his left side to numb down before attempting, again, to extricate himself from the bush.

The vine tiger had used its reach to swat at Nox before he could pierce the beast with his sabrestaff, but that put its paw within reach of Nox’s left, lightning charged, hand. The Force Lightning coursing through the muscles of the beast’s foreleg caused it to spasm violently, breaking the momentum of its swipe. This was most fortunate for Nox, because it meant he wasn’t struck with the beast’s full strength. It was still enough to knock the wind out of him, though.

Nox struggled to free himself from the clingy branches of the bush before he finally wrenched himself free and dropped a meter onto the jungle floor. The fog cleared enough from his mind to allow him to realize that he was making too much noise. There was no doubt in his mind that the racket he was making would definitely attract the pack of vine tigers.

“In fact,” he realized, “They’re probably about to pounce on me, now!”

Again, adrenaline shot into his system, and his heart raced into hyperspace with a new flood of fear that washed over him. Nox scrambled to his feet, as fast as his sore left side would allow him, and as quickly as his poor coordination from the massive doses of kolto permitted. He blinked his eyes, trying to clear his vision as he desperately scanned the dense foliage around him. Nox concentrated, straining his ears to hear the vicious beasts’ stealthy approach.

He saw nothing but the vegetation around him, and heard nothing but his fear induced heavy breathing and the panicked beating of his heart pounding in his ears. The sounds of chittering birds, and buzzing insects did not register in his consciousness.

He reached for his belt and didn’t find his sabrestaff, remembering then that he’d already drawn and ignited his weapon. Nox realized it had to be somewhere on the jungle floor hidden by the thick vegetation. A safety feature, he’d added to his weapon, caused it to shut off when it left his hand and struck the ground. Therefore, looking around for smoke or fires started on the jungle foliage would not help him to find his sabrestaff.

Using The Force, he searched for the weapon and found it on the other side of the bush he was lodged in. It was hidden from view by the bush he’d extracted himself from and by the ground level, knee-high, broad-leafed plants. The dark lord stretched his hand forward, and the weapon instantly lifted off the ground and shot around the bush and into his outstretched hand.

Standing, alert, and armed with his weapon, his fear began to recede and self control returned to him. When he was finally sure the beasts were not imminently nearby, he began to start thinking about his experiment again.

Nox still needed the carcass of a wild beast for his experiment. He was sure that his battle with the vine tiger had likely spooked away any of the other creatures that may have been in the area, and Nox fervently hoped that he wouldn’t need to tangle with that vine tiger again. Besides, he didn’t need a carcass that big.

Using The Force, he tried to sense the presence of any wild life, and discovered, to his chagrin, that the vine tigers were much closer than he’d imagined. Nox moved further to the south, away from the ruined temple and his field lab, and away from the vine tigers, but the beasts crept after him.

“Blasted monster won’t give up!” he thought, worriedly.

He realized that no matter how far he moved from them, they would continue to stalk him. Nox concluded that he had no other choice. The dark lord turned to face in the direction of the three cats stalking him and spoke loudly as he drew and activated both ends of his sabrestaff, separating them into their twin lightsaber configuration.

“If you won’t give up the hunt, then die by my hands!” he shouted, filling himself with hate and fury, “If you think you can eat me, then come!”

The vine tigers emerged from hiding in the thick brush, realizing that their prey was not fooled.

Darth Nox decided the jungle was too thick and favored the vine tiger family. He reached both arms towards the cats and leaning forward, executed an explosively powerful Force Push attack that ripped the jungle vegetation clear. The large trees creaked as they shook violently causing hundreds of birds to fly out of their nests, squawking in terror, and creating a rain of falling leaves, twigs and debris that fell into the clearing, which he’d just created.

The vine tigers were smacked by the shock wave of Nox’s Force push attack. They all roared their surprised reactions to the painful stinging that brutally assaulted their bodies. The beasts were violently blown back, tumbling uncontrollably in the air, and crashing in heaps, along with the debris of the jungle vegetation that piled on top of them.

The mother vine tiger quickly dug herself out from under the pile of vegetation and debris, her two cubs emerging not long after. Bewildered, she looked back and forth at the suddenly opened space, nearly denuded of foliage. The only things left in the clearing were the two huge trees, still standing, and her unexpectedly tough prey, with two deep red stingers exposed this time.

Then she felt it, a vile aura filled with terrible hatred and putrid darkness. The vine tiger realized this terrible, crushing feeling was coming from her prey. She watched as her prey began to slowly advance towards she and her cubs, the vile loathsome feeling growing the closer her prey got.

Her cubs were mewling and growling nervously. She could see they were visibly fearful of their prey as they looked alternately at their mother and at it. The two cubs made false starts, as though they would flee, but they feared their mother’s discipline as much as they obviously feared their prey, so they returned to their mother’s side each time. The tigress, herself, was growing fearful of the blood red and deep black creature inexorably approaching them.

The vine tigress finally came to understand that she could not protect her cubs from this prey. She gave a wildly strange crying growl. Her two cubs reacted by running into the jungle, away from Nox. They left their mother behind, fleeing with everything they had.

Nox stopped in his tracks when the two cubs bolted from the clearing, leaving their mother behind. He watched as she crouched, preparing to pounce. Nox braced himself.

“The monster strikes!” he thought, his excited heart pounding in his ears.

The monstrous vine tiger made its move, taking Nox by complete surprise. It was not what the dark lord expected. The monstrous cat beast quickly spun about and bounded out of the clearing and into the jungle behind her two fleeing cubs, having bought her cubs enough time to escape.

He stood dumbfounded for a brief moment before finally breaking into a run after the huge cat, but he quickly gave up the chase, stopping at the edge of the clearing he’d created.

“I don’t think she’ll come back this time,” Nox thought, not thoroughly convinced.

He was right, however. The vine tigers did not return.

_____________________________________________________________________________________​

Eventually, Nox had caught a young mailoc, a reptilian flying creature with leathery wings. He directed his droids to drain its blood into a basin and had the droid pour the blood into the slurry mixture. Providing a very large vibroknife for the task, he directed another of his droids to carve the carcass into quarters, and had one of the quarters placed into the tub.

This was actually Nox’s second attempt at performing this experiment. On his first try, he was interrupted by a call from Darth Marr. Nox didn’t have the time to return to his secret deep space station to conduct his experiment. It was why he had chosen to conduct it at the ruined temple in the deep jungle so far from any centers of population.

Nox produced a light weight, very porous clay tablet from one of the packing crates. This tablet was made with a unique blend of minerals, ground to a very, very fine powder, with each mineral carefully weighed into their proper proportions before being mixed into the clay. The tablet was inscribed with the ancient Sith script, a dead language which very few were able to read or to speak.

He placed the tablet into the tub on top of the carcass quarter. Nox didn’t believe that the text had any real effect on the ritual, but he believed that every part of the ritual should be replicated. Sometimes, pointless details like that revealed insights or clues about the actual ritual.

He recited the script aloud, substituting his name for the name of the ancient Sith lord who’d developed this technique a hundred years before even Vitiate was born! He didn’t think the recitation did anything except to set the mood. He would have laughed at the absurdity of the two lines of script, except that he was filling himself with hatred and fury.

“Eth! Hrogath ena! Khorad ena! Gruende ena! Eth! Dar Nos Eth a-eth!

Ethi aggad’na! Ethi mogakh’na! Ethi khaddaa’thoom’na! Ethi maraath o’uthra’g’naoo hreggan!”

Loosely translated, it meant, “Obey me! From chaos, order! From oblivion, form! From death, life! Obey me, Darth Nox! Obey and come forth!

I know the elements! I know the ratio! I know The Force! I can create another self from the scraps of beasts!”

Nox poured his malice and hatred into the piece of flesh in the tub. His vile aura poured out of him and saturated the area with palpable dread. Creatures of every kind, from small reptiles, insects and winged creatures crawled, skittered, or flew away from the ruined temple, as they fled his terrifying aura.

He stretched his hands towards the dead hunk of flesh, bone, and guts in the tub, focusing his vile hatred on it. Nox furiously blasted his command at the lump of flesh.

“Obey me! Come forth!”

A few tentacles peeked out from the slurry and found the edge of the tub. An eye stalk poked out of the muddy slop to look around and spotted Nox. It instantly shot a tentacle at the dark lord. Nox immediately swatted it aside and followed up with a blast of Force Lightning. The tentacle and the eye stalk vanished beneath the slurry. Nox shouted furiously at the ever forming creature.

“Know your place, you vile tub of filth!”

For good measure he blasted the creature with another bolt of Force Lightning, shouting vile epithets at his creation. The poor unnatural abomination quivered and writhed in agony as the lightning buzzed and crackled and danced across the creature’s ever evolving body.

He ended the Force Lightning attack, but then Nox blasted the Sith Spawn with his putrid aura.

“A vile piece of filth, such as you are, would dare touch me?! I’ll turn you to ash if you defile me with your filth again!”

Nox was thoroughly thrilled at his success, a huge triumphant grin on his face.

Pointing to a spot on the temple stone floor a couple of meters from where he stood, Nox commanded, “Out of that tub, you worthless spawn!”

The creature immediately obeyed, crawling out of the slurry filled tub. However, it exited from the opposite side of the tub from where Nox stood and began to crawl away from him. Nox quickly made his way around his lab table.

“Don’t even think that you can run from me!” the dark lord snarled.

The creature halted where Nox confronted it. Darth Nox carefully inspected the creature, stepping around it, so that he could look at it from all angles. Nox spoke aloud, describing what he saw for his records.

“The creature’s main body consists of the quartered carcass of the mailoc I had captured for this experiment. Its form was changing, but then stopped. Perhaps it ceased metamorphosing when I zapped it with Force Lightning. Or perhaps it stopped metamorphosing when it left contact with the slurry mixture.

“It has six tentacles of various lengths and each one has varying thicknesses. It has only one eye, mounted at the end of an eye stalk. It swivels its eye stalk like a periscope.”

Nox felt the frightened and sorrowfully woeful plea from the creature, impressing him with its hunger.

“It is Force sensitive. It has exhibited at least some small amount of intelligence. It understands my spoken commands and communicates telepathically by projecting its emotions.”

An idea occurred to the dark lord. Looking straight at the unnatural creature, he formed an image of the creature eating the remaining quarters of the original carcass.

Nothing happened. The creature continued to impress Nox with his hunger.

Again Nox formed the image of the creature eating the remaining mailoc carcass. This time he used The Force to project the image to the creature.

The creature responded, struggling to move itself with its tentacles, across the stone slab floor to what was once its body. It stretched two tentacles forward and pulled a quarter of its former self to itself.

“The creature can receive my projected thoughts,” Nox said into his audio recorder, “This could prove useful. The creature understands both spoken commands and can receive commands telepathically through The Force. Importantly, the creature does not seem to be able to simply look into my thoughts, but I must use The Force to project my commands telepathically. However, I must test this out more thoroughly.”

Nox also observed that it had developed a new maw. It was circular with hundreds of razor sharp teeth arranged in several rings, like some sort of parasite. It tore through the flesh of its former self, devouring the small shredded bits.

As it did so, Nox observed its body begin to evolve again. Some of its tentacles seemed to shrink and thicken, developing into limbs. Clawed paws began to form at the ends of its limbs. Nox noted these incredibly fast changes in his audio recordings.

He checked the equipment to ensure he was getting good video and audio, as well as other good quality scientific recordings. As he did so, Nox had to turn his back on the creature, and as soon as he did, he felt the creature’s yearning for Nox’s own flesh.

Nox immediately turned about and blasted the poor beast with his hate filled putrid aura and with Force Lightning.

“Do you think yourself worthy of tasting my flesh, you filth?!” Nox snarled at the unnatural beast.

The twisted creature writhed in agony on the stone slab floor of the ancient temple ruins. It reached out to Nox, piteously begging for mercy – through its emotions, rather than through words. Nox halted the torment, lowering his hands after the lightning had stopped.

“I am your master, your god! I created you, and I can destroy you! Do not anger me again!”

Nox’s personal holo-transceiver signaled an incoming call, which told him it was one of the dark councilors calling.

“Now what?!” he thought caustically, answering the call.

Unexpectedly, Darth Arkous’ holographic image sprang up over his portable hand held device.

“Blast! What in the Nine Hells is Keeper doing?!” Nox asked himself.

Darth Nox needed his rival dead. Darth Arkous stood in his way, and time was running out. If Valion Pyron returned to Sith Empire space with Darth Arkous still overseeing the Sphere of Military Offense, then the moff, although Nox’s vassal, would be forced to obey the military offensive directives of Darth Arkous.

The Imperial Navy had completed modifications on the reactors of a very large number of the Imperial fleet. It was on track to complete the modifications of the reactors of the remaining few thousands of starships. These were mostly support and supply ships.

Many of the warships refitted with the modified reactors had already been refueled with refined Imperium. Imperium was formally known as Isotope Five, which the empire was now mining for itself on the reborn world of Makeb, now referred to as 24P36Q617-TSB. Its shortened name was 24P-TSB.

Moff Valion Pyron was nearing the galaxy and would soon arrive to report to Nox with his three or perhaps four naval battle groups with their refitted warships. As such, Nox was both peeved and alarmed by Arkous’ call.

“Why is he still alive?!”

He wondered why it was taking so long for Keeper to complete his mission. Then a terrible thought occurred to him.

“Has Keeper failed? Is Arkous calling to tell me that my plot had been discovered?”

“Darth Arkous, what do you want?” Nox asked, guardedly.

Darth Arkous spoke with fury in his voice, causing Nox to curse under his breath, “Blast! I’ve been found out!”

“What do I want?! What do I….,” Arkous paused and composed himself before getting to the point. “Our sacred temple has been desecrated by the filthy Jedi!”

Nox was both surprised and greatly relieved. The worst case scenario had not played out.

“Then do something about it,” Nox replied, adopting an air of exasperation.

“I am doing something about it!” Arkous blasted at Nox, but stopped to compose himself before continuing, “I am doing something about it, but the forces I have here are insufficient,” Arkous said disgustedly, “I am outnumbered eight to one.”

“How many troops do you have?” Nox asked, deciding to let Arkous’ tone of voice slide this time.

“I have a regiment of the Imperial Guard, and a regiment of Imperial Army troops to augment the Imperial Guard forces.”

“Then you are facing two divisions of Republic forces?” Nox asked.

“Two divisions of heavy infantry and a regiment of shock troops,” Arkous said, grimly, before adding, “There is also a contingent of Jedi. There are probably between twenty, thirty, or perhaps more of those vile heretics.”

Nox’s interest increased on hearing about the Jedi.

“What do the Jedi want?” he asked.

“Obviously, they want to destroy the temple, and to steal whatever they can from it!” Arkous said furiously, adding, “I think they’re after the holocrons.”

“Have you called for reinforcements?” Nox asked.

“I’m calling you, aren’t I?” Arkous replied irritably.

Nox shook his head, becoming irritated with the freshman dark councilor’s impertinence.

“Whatever!” Nox said, reaching the end of his patience, before asking, “Which temple are you talking about? There are dozens scattered throughout the Empire.”

“Korriban,” was all Arkous had to say.

Nox was taken aback. His great shock was plain for Arkous to see. The ramifications of that news struck Nox to his core. Not only was the Sith Academy located on Korriban, with some of the structures serving as tombs for some of the greatest Sith rulers of the ancient past, but the traditional Dark Council chamber was located there.

The Empire was administered from Dromund Kaas, but the Dark Council ruled from Korriban.

The Dark Council had a council chamber on Dromund Kaas, but nearly twenty years ago, when the Sith Empire retook Korriban from the Galactic Republic and the Jedi, the Dark Council began to hold its sessions in the ancient council chamber again.

That wasn’t all. The Sith Academy was part of Nox’s Sphere of Influence, and the libraries located at the Academy were part of his domain, along with all of the other libraries of holocrons in other Sith temples throughout the galaxy.

“What are the Jedi really doing at the Academy?” Nox couldn’t believe it was just about holocrons. “Are they there to wipe out the Academy?” Nox expected to find all of his overseers and acolytes dead. “If they really are after our library, it’s to destroy it, but it doesn’t matter. Those are all copies.” Nox knew.

Darth Arctis, Darth Thanaton’s predecessor on the Dark Council, had the foresight to safeguard the long lost knowledge regained to them when Korriban returned to Imperial control. He also copied the holocrons in other libraries in Sith temples throughout the empire, leaving three copies at each of the libraries, and storing the originals at The Citadel. Four other sets of copies were also stored separately in different storage facilities in different cities scattered around Dromund Kaas and around Ziost.

It would be nothing to create a new copy of any of the libraries from one of those four sets of copies and restock the shelves of the libraries on Korriban, or any other library at any of the temples throughout the empire. However, the knowledge and experience of the overseers was irreplaceable. New overseers would need to be appointed and trained, and it wasn’t easy to find Force Sensitives to bring to the Academy for their trials…

However, there was another possibility explaining the Jedi’s presence on Korriban. It screamed at him from the back of his mind, and it worried him greatly.

“Keeper, what have you done?”

Nox stood to lose a lot of influence in the Dark Council because of this incursion. He might be blamed for a lack of security or any number of things. Now Nox understood why Arkous called him specifically. His rival knew that with so much at stake, Nox would be forced to respond and take action to defend Korriban from the Jedi.

Nox spoke darkly, telling Arkous, “I will see to this, personally.”

“Thank you, Darth Nox,” Arkous replied before adding, “I’ll hold out as long as I can. I’ll hurt them as much as I can,” Then, before cutting the connection, he added, “Avenge my death, Darth Nox.”

Darth Arkous’ holographic image was gone from above Nox’s communication device. Fury overcame him, and he was struck with outrage, as he imagined the Jedi treading the ancient halls of the Sith Academy and of the Dark Council chamber itself.

Nox turned his fury at the hapless creature he had just created, pouring forth his rage and withering hatred for the Jedi onto the poor Sith spawn in the form of Force Lightning.

The creature sent Nox its emotions, begging and crying for its creator to stop. It didn’t understand. It didn’t do anything to anger its maker. Just before it died, it formed a coherent thought and projected it to Nox.

“Why, Mother?”

The creature died, and Nox was left in shock at what he’d observed. He recorded the data, speaking into his audio recorder.

“The Sith spawn has developed quickly, both physically and mentally. It has learned to form coherent thoughts that can translate into language. Great care must be exercised when creating these creatures. Their intelligence grows, making them potentially very difficult to control over the long run. That could be very dangerous,” after some though, he added, “A way must be found to establish and maintain absolute control over the aberrations. Even then, allowing the Sith spawn to mature for too long might lead to an intelligent being capable of betraying its creator.”

Nox made sure he saved all of the recordings from the instruments recording the telemetry data, as well as the holographic and audio recorders. As he had done hours earlier at the Dark Temple with his experiment on the youth, whose name escaped the dark lord, Nox removed the datacards with the precious data of his experiment.

He stored the datacards in protective datacard cases and put them in a compartment of his utility belt. Then he went about ordering his droids to dismantle his field laboratory.

Pointing at a nearby droid, he ordered, “Place the remnants of the animal carcass into the tub.”

As the droid carried out its task, he ordered another droid, “Dig a pit in dimensions that this tub will fit into snugly.” Pointing at a small clearing about seventy meters from the temple stairs, he ordered the droid, “Dig the pit over there.”

Pointing at four other droids, he ordered, “Remove this tub from the laboratory table and take it over there, where the pit will be dug.”

He pointed to where the first droid had already begun to expeditiously dig the pit. Then he stepped away from the lab table and watched as the four droids began to execute their instructions, unclamping the tub from the table. Each of the four droids then lifted the tub from one of the carrying handles at the rounded corners of the rectangular tub.

As the four droids carefully transported the tub filled with the slurry, the carcass remnants of the mailoc, and of the Sith spawn towards the almost completed pit, Nox gave instructions to his remaining medium duty work droids.

“Unbolt the table from the floor, carefully disassemble and repack all of my scientific instruments, and prepare it all to be carried back to the shuttle landing zone.”

The coordinates Nox and his droids had been dropped off was ten kilometers from the site of the ruined temple. He wanted to keep the location of the temple ruins as secret as possible. If anyone were to follow to the landing site later on, without foreknowledge of the existence of the ruins, they would not know where in the jungle to search for him. As a result, however, that meant he would need to trudge ten kilometers through the jungle to get to the temple, and then from the temple on his return trip to the shuttle landing site.

It had occurred to him, years ago, that pursuers could simply follow the droids’ tracks to the ruins. The wide path carved out by the passage of his droids on their march to and from the ruins made nice pointers to his secret hidden ancient temple and research lab, but he didn’t worry about this too much. In only a couple of days, the wildly growing jungle vegetation would already have been well on its way to erasing the evidence of such pointers anyway.

Using The Force, Nox lifted two heavy plasma torches and brought them over to where the pit was almost completed, and the tub had been brought. Nox came to a stop to watch the droids work. Guiding the plasma torches, he allowed them to float past him to gently settle to the ground near the droids with the tub.

Just as the pit digger completed its task, Nox ordered the four droids, “Lower the tub into the pit, and don’t spill a drop of that slurry. When you’ve done that, two of you will use these torches to incinerate the contents of the tub until nothing remains in the tub except for white ash. Advise me when this is done.”

Nox intended to visually verify that the droids had carried out his instructions perfectly before ordering them to bury the tub in the pit, but then he had an epiphany.

After the droids lowered the tub into the pit, he commanded, “Hold off on the torches. Instead, one of you remove a piece of the quartered animal and set it on the ground here.”

He pointed to where here was before running back to his crates to retrieve a spare clay tablet. On his way back, he reread the ancient text on the tablet.

“Obey me! From chaos, order! From oblivion, form! From death, life! Obey me, Darth Nox! Obey and come forth!

I know the elements! I know the ratio! I know The Force! I can create another self from the scraps of beasts!”

Nox realized that the first line was nonsense, the secret was in the second line.

“Another self from the scraps of beasts,” Nox realized that was the key.

To confirm this, the dark lord first attempted the ritual on the piece of carcass removed from the tub and placed on the ground. Without reciting the lines, and using The Force, he poured in his hatred, fury, and malice into the hunk of animal flesh. Nothing happened.

Then he tried it on the animal remnants in the tub, again without reciting the lines. Those began to change, but progress was very slow.

Then the Sith lord placed the tablet onto the piece of carcass removed from the tub. Again, without reciting any of the script, Nox performed the ritual. As the quarter section of mailoc began to transform, the tablet began to break down and dissolve into the forming creature.

“That’s it!” Nox shouted in triumph.

Using The Force, Nox moved the still forming Sith Spawn into the tub and ordered his droids, “Incinerate the contents of the tub until only white ash remains.”

As the droids began to carry out their task, he turned and walked back to the temple ruins and recorded his findings in his audio recorder.

“The ratio of elements in the tablet, plus the elements in the animal carcass approximate what is found in human remains. It may be possible to create Sith Spawn from the corpses of humans without any additional preparation. I must test this on a sacrificed human slave. I’ll also try this on alien slaves, to see if I’ll have any success, there.”

Upon walking to where his other droids were packing his scientific instruments, he sat on one of the packing crates and secured his audio recorder. Then, retrieving his intra-galactic, encrypted holo-transceiver, he dialed a frequency.

There was a very noticeable delay while Nox waited for his vassal to answer the call. While he waited, he could not help but think about the Jedi raiding his domain and how it might impact his claim for the throne.

Finally, after a surprisingly long delay of several long seconds, the very unstable and glitch-ridden holographic image of Moff Valion Pyron appeared. Pyron spoke, but the audio was broken and covered with static and white noise.

“…ord, how may …. erve you?”

“How much longer, Moff?” Nox asked, barely containing his rage.

There was another long delay before he received Pyron’s reply.

“Repeat…., Lord. Re…., Dar…. …peat, Dark Lord.”

Nox’s frustration at how inconvenient this exchange was, was compounded by how difficult it was to understand what was said.

“When will you be here? When will you be here? When will you be here?”

Another long wait.

“Four wee …. Dark Lo…. …. weeks….. Four wee……Lord,” Pyron repeated himself.

“Defend Korriban. Defend Korriban. Defend Korriban,” Nox said.

“Un…… Understood…. U……. ark Lord.”

Nox cut the connection, and immediately called for a shuttle to come get him.

Nox’s rage intensified as he imagined finding the ancient Sith temple and the academy in smoking ruins, but he managed to find a single positive development in the midst of the calamity.

“At least Arkous will be dead and will not be around to stop me from launching my military offensive.”

Despite his effort to remain positive, Nox had very grave misgivings.

“I’m going to have to have a word with Keeper. He didn’t need to lure the Republic to Korriban to get at Arkous!”

 

Chapter 16: Darth Nox Roars!​

Following his call to Moff Valion Pyron, and after setting up his shuttle transport, Nox called Andronikos Revel.

“Hey, Boss, what do you have brewing?” the pirate asked casually.

“Find Khem Val. Arm the ship for heavy space combat, and get a platoon of heavy infantry loaded for ten days of combat. Be ready for launch as soon as I board the starship in Kaas City spaceport in six to seven hours.”

“All Nine Hells, Boss!! Who’re you going to war with?!” Andronikos exclaimed, adding, “By the way, I’ll need fourteen hours to prep the ship and get the troops with their supplies.”

“Fourteen hours?! I don’t…!” Nox started to blast out, but bit off the rest.

Nox held his tongue, stifling his first impulse which was to shout at and berate the semi-retired pirate. Andronikos could see the fury in his employer’s eyes. He could easily tell that his employer was struggling to hold back. He could see the dam of fury was at the busting point, and that soon his employer would not be able to hold back any longer. Andronikos figured he’d better explain.

“It’s fourteen hours, because I’ve got to order the military around, and they’re all about filling out forms and following procedures. But don’t worry, Boss. I’ll be sure they know it’s your ship and that you’re in a ripping hurry.”

“Very well. I’ll be there in fourteen hours,” Nox said, very plainly seething with rage.

“The blasted Jedi are on Korriban,” Nox explained, revealing to the pirate the source of his fury.

“All Nine Hells…,” Andronikos replied soberly, realizing what was at stake. He asked, “You don’t want me to get Virulous, too, Boss?”

“No. I’ll contact her myself,” Nox replied brusquely, cutting the connection.

Shortly thereafter, Virulous’ holographic image appeared above his device.

“What is your will, Dark Lord?”

Nox took note that she did not kneel.

“Hmmm… It seems she does not believe she needs to show me the proper respect anymore,” Nox thought, testily, “I’ll have to rectify this misunderstanding of hers.”

“Have you completed your mission?” Nox asked, tersely.

“I have, my lord, and I have succeeded,” she replied solemnly, with quiet pride.

“Oh! That explains her change in attitude!” Then a realization struck him, “Is she even Virulous, anymore?”

Realizing, with a pang, that she might not even be the same woman that he’d fallen in love with, Nox decided not to call out his apprentice on her failure to kneel before him.

“Does she still love me? Does she even still consider herself my apprentice anymore?”

He asked her, much less tersely as some of his anger left him, “When will you be ready to return to me?”

“My lord, we have already left orbit,” Virulous reported, “In an hour we shall enter hyperspace.”

“Bring your forces to Korriban. You will join me there,” Nox instructed, explaining, “The Jedi have invaded Korriban with a strong military force.”

The quiet pride, evidenced on her face, morphed into ever increasing outrage as she replied, “I look forward to showing you my new found power, Dark Lord,” Then her face twisted into a mask of fury as she snarled her declaration. “I will destroy those filthy Jedi!”

“First meet with me, my apprentice,” Nox cautioned, “We must present a single, powerful force, and not attack piecemeal.”

“As you say, Dark Lord,” Virulous replied evenly, though fury still showed on her face, “When my task force arrives in orbit, I shall contact you for instructions.”

“Very good, Lord Virulous,” Nox replied, cutting the connection.”

Nox ensured that his droids had finished packing and that everything was in readiness to begin the march to the pickup point. Then he walked to the pit and inspected the work of his other droids. The contents had all been burned to ash and the tub melted into a solidified cooling metallic puddle at the bottom of the pit. The organic matter in the soil surrounding the tub had also been burned to ash and the remaining minerals had melted into a glassy slag.

“Bury the pit, then join the other droids to carry my equipment. Don’t forget to bring the shovel and plasma torches with you,” Nox ordered.

Nox drove himself hard, relentlessly slogging his way through ten kilometers of jungle. Because using his lightsaber would have started fires, Nox used the very large vibroknife he’d provided to a droid to quarter the carcass earlier. He slashed his way through the dense wild jungle, using The Force to shove the cut vegetation out of his way. This allowed him to maintain a high rate of movement, and ensured that the path was wide enough for his droids and their cargo to pass through.

In two hours he arrived to the designated pickup point. Despite using The Force, he was exhausted. It was a strenuous work out. Nox sat on a crate that he’d ordered one of his droids to set down. He broke out a compact military field ration, and began to eat, taking sips of cool water from an insulated water bottle.

A short while later, Nox could just barely make out the whine of an Imperial shuttle craft in the very great distance. The shuttle’s whine grew louder as it neared the pickup point. He called one of his vassals. Incredibly, the vassal did not answer his call, so he left a message.

“Lord Calaverous, return my call at the soonest. I have orders for you.”

He then called his other vassal. The kneeling holographic image of his strongest vassal appeared above his handheld device.

“Dark Lord, you honor me greatly. I am ever ready to answer your call in service. What is your will?”

“Darth Eviscerous, bring your full power to my service on Korriban. There I shall unleash you on Galactic Republic forces – and on the filthy Jedi who defile our sacred temple. While your forces destroy the hated Republic army scum, you shall fight by my side with your apprentices, as we rid the galaxy of these vile Jedi.”

“Dark Lord, I shall be at Korriban the soonest!” Eviscerous promised, then declaring with real passion, “I shall bring misery and death to the Jedi for their sacrilege! I shall crush them into dust, Dark Lord!”

“When your task force arrives to Korriban, you and your apprentices shall join me aboard my starship,” Nox instructed.

He could barely hear his vassal’s reply over the banshee scream of the shuttle overhead as it began its landing descent.

“It shall be as you command, Dark Lord.”

“Very good, Lord Eviscerous,” Nox said, cutting the connection.

The downwash of the shuttle buffeted him as it descended the last few meters to the ground in the small clearing. The twin engines’ banshee screams wound down as the engines were idled. When the ramp came down, a crewman descended it.

He approached Nox and, for an instant, shock and wonderment flashed across the Imperial soldier's face. In a flash, his shocked surprise was gone and the soldier snapped to attention, and vigorously stomping his boot on the moss covered jungle floor, he snapped out a parade grade salute.

"We are deeply honored to serve you Dark Lord!" the solder shouted, to be heard over the engines, "I am Sergeant Stadd Raimus! I'm the loadmaster for this shuttle!"

Nox waived his acknowledgment, and the sergeant snappily ended his salute.

“Is this everything, Dark Lord?!” the sergeant asked indicating the neatly stacked packing crates and the droids.

“Yes, Sergeant!” Nox shouted, “Load it all aboard!”

“Yes, Dark Lord!”

Nox stood back and watched as the shuttle’s loadmaster, an Imperial Army soldier, organized the activities of the dark lord’s droids, directing their work loading Nox’s equipment and supplies into the shuttle. The loadmaster also told the droids where to stand and anchor themselves in the troop compartment.

“He’s rather young, to be a sergeant,” Nox thought, impressed, “He must be an exceptional soldier.”

“Stand closer together, you miserable piles of scrap metal!” the sergeant bellowed at the droids, “Stop taking up so much space on my ship! You’re cargo, not passengers!”

Finally, the loadmaster led Nox to his seat in the troop compartment towards the front of the shuttle. The two had to squeeze in between the double rows of droids, standing on either side of the interior, and then pass through the stacks of crates on either side of the narrow aisle.

After ensuring that Nox was properly secured in his seat, with the safety restraining field activated, the sergeant returned to the back of the troop compartment where he proceeded to raise the ramp.

The ear splitting whine of the twin engines was instantly nearly all cut off from the interior of the shuttle, bringing relative quiet to the interior. After ensuring the ramp was locked in place and a good seal formed, the loadmaster unfolded his seat from the floor, near the end of the aisle, raising it until the support struts locked in place. Then he sat with his back resting against the raised ramp, and activated the safety restraining field.

Nox watched his lips move, as the soldier reported the troop compartment’s readiness for flight. Suddenly the dark lord was scrunched down into his seat by the g-forces as the shuttle instantly lurched skyward. Then suddenly, he felt as though he would be lifted off of his seat, but for the safety restraining field holding him in place, as the shuttle suddenly stopped its ascent.

The pilot suddenly performed a rapid horizontal spin which brought the shuttle craft to its heading for Kaas City, which left the dark lord feeling a bit unsettled. Finally, Nox felt the shuttle rapidly accelerate and rotate upward to a steep climb. Nox was pressed into the restraining field which held him securely in his backwards facing seat. The shuttle quickly achieved escape velocity.

Nox realized the shuttle would take a suborbital flight path to Kaas City. So, rather than a four and a half hour in-atmosphere flight, the flight would be less than two hours, most of it in sub orbital space.

“I’ve been on worse flights. I did tell them that I was in a great hurry,” Nox confessed to himself.

The dark lord hoped the rest of the flight would be smoother.

Nox’s transceiver vibrated in its niche on his utility belt. He picked it up and saw that it was Calaverous, returning his call. The dark lord accepted the call, and the kneeling holographic image of his vassal sprang into view above his device.

The shuttle changed its angle of climb again to what would be considered level flight, and the engines throttled back to idle. Suddenly, Nox felt weightless, but the restraining field kept him at his seat.

“It took you long enough to return my call,” the dark lord said, chiding his vassal.

“I beg your pardon, Dark Lord. I was not in a position to quickly answer your call. I am, as always, ever ready to serve your will, Dark Lord.”

Calaverous seemed uncomfortable over something, but Nox had no time for curiosity. He got to the point.

“Gather your full power and meet me in orbit over Korriban. The Jedi, with republic forces, have invaded the temple.”

Whatever discomfort had been troubling his vassal a moment before, was instantly gone and replaced by sheer outrage.

“The Emperor’s thousand years! What do those backwards, bug-ridden, raggedy, foolish heathen think they are doing at our holy temple?!”

“They think they are taking advantage of the fact that the Dark Council is fractured, and that we are on the verge of battling amongst ourselves to assert our right to be on the throne,” Nox replied, adding, “They believe they can take advantage of our internal struggles to do whatever they want.”

Calaverous took a chance and said what he thought Nox would want to hear.

“Any fool can see that there is only one way that struggle will end, Dark Lord, and that is with you on the throne.”

“Do you really believe that, Lord Calaverous?” Nox asked, dryly.

The dark lord’s facial expression plainly showed doubt in Calaverous’ sincerity, and put the Sith lord on the spot. Calaverous realized that he’d erred in mentioning the former emperor, Vitiate and his thousand years, even though it was a common phrase used to express great astonishment among the citizens of the Empire. It didn’t help that he was delayed in answering his dark lord’s call, either.

“I was in the fresher! What could I do?” Calaverous thought, reflecting miserably, “What terrible timing!”

Therefore, Calaverous decided to put on a display to show his sincerity.

“Dark Lord, I’ll kill and destroy anything that gets in the way of your ascension to what already belongs to you!”

Nox was surprised with his vassal’s passionate declaration, but he was not yet willing to give Calaverous a pass. Calaverous was usually a laid back, subtle sort, whose deceptive affability belied his ever scheming and plotting ways. Nox doubted his vassal’s sincerity, Calaverous always struck the dark lord as someone to keep an eye on.

“Deeds to match your words, Lord Calaverous. Your words are stirring, even inspiring, but deeds are firm, undeniable proof of one’s passion.”

“Then the dark lord shall see that my passionate deeds will match the fire of my words! I have the dark lord’s orders. I shall meet with you over Korriban!”

Again, Nox was surprised by Calaverous’ passionate response, as though he really wanted Nox to see his worth to the dark lord.

“Very well, Lord Calaverous,” Nox said, nodding his approval and adding before cutting the connection, “Show me your resolute passion.”

The shuttle was coasting smoothly in suborbital flight. Darth Nox leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes to think.

“Moff Pyron is fully, four weeks from arriving. He’ll arrive after it’s all over. If I am defeated, he will mop up any Republic forces stranded on the planet. I will arrive in about ten days. Both Virulous and Eviscerous will arrive between two and two and a half days after I’ve gotten there. Eviscerous will bring a Harrower-class dreadnought and three Terminus-class star destroyers, and a division of light infantry. Virulous will bring a Terminus-class star destroyer and a regiment of heavy infantry. Calaverous has no troops, but he’ll arrive from Taris about a day after I have.”

Nox sighed, realizing he would be facing very bad odds, militarily.

“I wonder, how good is Calaverous in a fight?”

Twenty three months ago, he’d become aware of Lord Calaverous through a report submitted to him by Andronikos when the semi-retired pirate was overseeing the build of his highly modified Fury-class interceptor at Tandankin Shipyards. Calaverous was instrumental to Andronikos’ success in getting the ship built and delivered on time. Darth Nox sent the Sith lord to Taris to administer the cleanup effort while Darth Komo was in hospital.

The dark lord reflected on Calaverous’ performance on Taris while Darth Komo recovered from his wounds after an assassination attempt. When Komo returned to duty as the administrator of Taris’ planet-wide cleanup and detoxification effort, he had nothing but praise for Calaverous and asked to keep Calaverous to help with the work.

“He certainly is a good administrator,” Nox thought, “but can he fight?”

The dark lord drifted off to sleep.

“Dark Lord?”

Nox awoke with a start, and saw the loadmaster standing before him. His droids were already carrying the last of his equipment off of the shuttle. The shuttle’s engines were silent, but he could hear the sounds of a busy spaceport outside of the troop compartment. The dark lord, nodded acknowledgment and waved the sergeant off.

Without a word, the loadmaster turned about and walked to the back of the troop compartment and then down the ramp to oversee the droid’s staging of Darth Nox’s equipment and supplies. He also made sure that the dark lord’s droids stood in a compact group as they waited for transportation. Sergeant Stadd Raimus hated when droids spaced themselves out.

“You’re equipment, blast you! Stand closer together and stop taking up so much blasted space!”

He turned to look back at his shuttle in time to see Darth Nox walk down the ramp. At the bottom of the ramp, Nox turned to make his way to his droids and equipment.

Sergeant Raimus approached the dark lord and came to a stop two meters in front of him. Snapping to attention, he stomped his boot and rendered a snappy salute.

“Dark Lord, Captain Olean, the shuttle pilot, arranged ground transportation for you, your droids, and your equipment as we made our final approach to Kaas City Spaceport. They should arrive here within the next ten minutes.”

“Very well. Carry on, sergeant.”

Yes, Dark Lord! It has been an honor to serve you!”

The sergeant ended his salute and then made his way to the bottom of the shuttle’s ramp. He then proceeded to make his way up until he entered the troop compartment where he conducted a final walk through, to be sure nothing was accidentally left behind. Then Sergeant Raimus proceeded to raise the ramp. Stadd Raimus was deeply impressed by the claw marks on the Sith lord’s arm and on the side of his chest.

“Darth Nox was seriously banged up! Those claws had to be half a meter across! I wonder what unlucky jungle beast thought that it could eat that tough old Sith?!” he wondered, shaking his head in admiration of the dark lord as the ramp sealed shut.

Kaas City Spaceport was a very small spaceport which was reserved for the exclusive use of the Sith Empire’s very elite. Among those who used this spaceport were dark councilors and their immediate Sith lord subordinates. However, it was the very high ranking military commanders – moffs with business at the military high command sector within The Citadel who used Kaas City Spaceport the most.

Before his disgraceful fall, the direct servants of Vitiate were the only other ones who’d made use of this spaceport. However, Vitiate’s direct servants have not been seen, nor heard from since the former emperor’s fall from the throne, and no one particularly cared.

Kaas City Spaceport was a tiny, twenty five square kilometer, expanse of white resicrete deck enclosed by a ten story high wall on all four sides. The spaceport was located in the southwest corner of Kaas City, within the City walls.

Nox was at the southeast corner of the spaceport. He looked around until he spotted his starship, about five kilometers away, near the southwest corner of the small spaceport. There were several flat-bed lorries approaching his ship. They were loaded with long white metallic crates, with black lettering and red markings. Those were used to store and transport anti-ship missiles.

Another group of vehicles were already parked near his starship. Nox judged they were conducting deflector shield diagnostics on the ship, as he’d seen the tell-tell signs of bluish white flashes around the exterior of his starship. Nox nodded his satisfaction, confident that his ship would be fully prepared for combat. Yet, he had to reflect on what Andronikos had told him a couple of hours earlier.

“I thought he said it would be fourteen hours before the ship was ready,” Nox thought, “Then there are still twelve hours left before my ship will be ready for launch?”

It seemed to the dark lord that was an awful lot of time to prep the ship, when the logistical support units were already at the scene working on his ship.

The sounds of speeders approaching caught his attention. He turned in time to see a train of four Imperial Army box lorries come to a stop and settle down on their skids. The eight soldiers, drivers and assistant drivers, debarked from the cabs of their vehicles and casually approached the staged droids, equipment, and supplies.

One of the soldiers spotted Darth Nox and froze in his tracks, a look of great astonishment registering on his face.

“ATTENTION!!” he commanded, stentoriously.

His fellow soldiers, on reflex, stopped their joking and laughing. They all came to a halt and stood rigidly at attention.

“HAND SALUTE!!”

All eight men saluted. It wasn’t until Darth Nox stepped from around the tightly packed gaggle of droids that the rest of the soldiers spotted and recognized the dark lord.

Nox came to a stop in front of the soldiers who’d stopped at attention in a disorganized group.

“You will take my droids, equipment, and supplies to The Citadel. Deliver everything to sub-level three hundred and seventeen, warehouse seventy two, within the domain of The Sphere of Ancient Knowledge.”

The dark lord looked at the soldiers, as they responded, “Yes, Sir!”

“Who’s in charge, here?” Nox asked.

“I’m the senior driver, Dark Lord!” one of the men responded, “Corporal Rethan is my name, Sir!”

“Do you need me to repeat my instructions, Corporal Rethan?” Nox asked.

“No, Dark Lord. I understand your orders, Sir!”

“Very well. I’ll leave it to you.”

Nox turned to leave, but stopped to express a concern.

“The instruments in those cases,” Nox said, pointing at the ones he’d meant, “are very delicate and quite difficult to replace, treat them carefully.”

“Yes, Dark Lord. We’ll be careful with all of the gear,” Corporal Rethan assured Darth Nox.

With that, Nox turned and used The Force to speed his way to his star ship, leaving the soldiers in utter amazement at how fast the Sith lord ran.

“What do you think, guys?” Corporal Rethan asked his fellow soldiers.

The soldiers slowly lowered their salutes (Nox never returned their salute), and relaxed their stances, as they watched the Sith lord run to the starship at the far end of the launch deck.

“I’d say, he was doing about a hundred and ten, a hundred and twelve kilometers per hour,” the corporal estimated.

“Yeah. Thereabouts,” one of his fellows replied.

“He looked seriously roughed up. Didn’t he?” another driver asked.

Darth Nox slowed to a walk and made his way around his starship and around the support vehicles, inspecting the scene as he caught his breath. As he rounded the back end of the starship, he happened to see his servant descending the ramp, presumably to carry out some task related to preparations for launch.

“Andronikos!”

“Hey, Boss!” Andronikos replied, picking up the pace and closing the distance to Darth Nox on the resicrete deck.

Andronikos took on a look of concern as he neared his employer.

“You’re looking kind of rough, Boss. Did you run into trouble? Anyone I need to take care of for you?”

Darth Nox looked down at himself, inspecting his arms and at the armor around his rib cage. That’s when he noticed the slash damage to his armor, and the ground-in stains from the plant material from when he got knocked around by the mother vine tigress.

“Oh… I got into it with a vine tiger. I’m fine. Don’t worry about it,” he said, dismissively, then asked, “Is Khem Val aboard?”

“He left the ship a short while ago, Boss. He went to his flat to get his heavy armor and his war blade,” Andronikos said, thinking to himself, “Just a vine tiger, eh? Nothing to get worked up about, eh?”

“Heavy armor?” Nox asked himself, puzzled.

He’d never seen the behemoth in heavy armor. Nox nodded acknowledgment of Andronikos’ reply, then asked, “When will you be ready to launch? I thought you said it would be fourteen hours.”

“It’s like I thought, Boss,” Andronikos reported, explaining, “I dropped your name into the right ears. Then, in no time at all, the Navy jumped into hyperspace to get your ship up and ready. So, I shaved seven hours off of my original estimate. We’ll be ready to launch in six hours instead of in 12.”

“I see. That explains why the ship is already being serviced,” Nox said, in realization, “Very well.”

The good news didn’t seem to improve Nox’s mood, however. Andronikos could see that there was no cheer in his employer’s facade. Nox was restraining his anger, bottling it all in so that he could unleash it all on his enemies. The semi-retired pirate didn’t want to accidentally set his employer off, so he made excuses to get out of Nox’s line of sight.

“Well, if you don’t have any more questions for me, then I’ll get back to work, Boss.”

Nox merely nodded his permission, and waived Andronikos away. The semi-retired pirate only made it three paces before Nox called to him.

“Actually, Andronikos. Call for a speeder to take me to The Citadel. I have some work to do there.”

“You got it, Boss.”

Andronikos resumed his steps towards the ordnance crew, who had just begun opening the ordnance crates, to inspect the starship killing missiles in preparation for loading into the missile bays. One missile had already been rejected and was left in its crate still on the flatbed lorry that had brought it. Another missile had just been ordered to replace the defective weapon from the ordnance depot to take its place.

“Didn’t you inspect them at the ordnance depot before bringing them here?” Andronikos asked the ordnance officer.

“We did. This one must have suffered some damage on the way here,” was the ordnance officer’s reply.

The semi-retired pirate shrugged his shoulders at the ordnance officer as he pulled out his transceiver and called the Kaas City Spaceport flight office.

“When are you guys gonna send that speeder? Darth Nox has been waiting and he’s starting to think you guys are making fun of him.”

“What?! The speeder hasn’t arrived, yet?!” The flight scheduling officer exclaimed, deeply worried, adding, “It should be there, now. Oh, wait. You aren’t at landing pad five esk (5-E), you’re at four aurek (4-A).”

“You people need to stay on top of these things,” Andronikos said, as though in rebuke, then lying, “The dark lord came over to this landing pad ages ago.”

Andronikos surmised that someone must have already ordered a speeder for his employer.

The speeder driver, who’d been waiting for Darth Nox, spent her time idly watching the lorry drivers organize the droids to do the work of loading several crates, and then to finally load themselves into the four cargo transports.

“That work looked like it could be fun,” the assistant driver, a human female, said to the driver.

“It looked like a lot of work to me,” the driver, another human female, replied, “I’ll stick to this, driving VIPs around.” With a sultry smile, she added, “I liked the blonde.”

“Him, and the one with the auburn hair,” the assistant driver replied, “I liked his beard.”

“You like beards?” the driver asked, mildly surprised.

The box lorries had levitated off of their skids and were already making their way across the expansive white resicrete deck on their way to their destination when the speeder driver got the call from dispatch.

“Corporal Bavvet, Darth Nox has moved to landing pad four aurek. He’s waiting there. Get moving.”

“Understood. On our way,” Gredna Bavvet replied, getting the speeder moving.

In a very short while, Darth Nox boarded the back passenger seat and Private Vannette Dunn shut the door before taking her place in the front passenger seat.

“The Citadel,” Nox said.

“Yes, Dark Lord,” Corporal Bavvet replied, getting the speeder on its way.

Three and a half hours later, the two soldiers saluted while holding the door open for the dark lord as he exited the speeder. Nox walked to the massive entrance of The Citadel, lost in thought. It hadn’t occurred to the driver and her assistant to drop him at the entrance, itself. The driver had parked the speeder at the nearest passenger loading point to the door, thinking they’d done an excellent job.

The dark lord had to walk a hundred meters to the huge entrance. He passed dozens of Imperials as he walked, and without exception they stared at him – usually with expressions of shock or amazement.

“Was the dark lord attacked?” one stranger asked the other.

“If he was, the attacker is lying dead, somewhere,” the other stranger replied.

There was no doubt in the public’s mind that Darth Nox was the meanest and baddest Sith in the galaxy. His Kaggath, nearly two years ago, was still the biggest public display of Sith power ever covered by the media, and was still fresh on many citizens’ minds. This was Nox’s second Kaggath. His first was twelve years ago against Thanaton. Before then, such publicly spectacular blood feuds hadn’t been conducted by any other members of the Dark Council going back quite a few generations.

Nox was not being particularly mindful of his surroundings; he was preoccupied with his coming battle on Korriban. So it took him a bit by surprise when someone stopped right in front of him and addressed him.

“You’re so irresponsible, Darth Nox. You should take your personal security much more seriously. Have you forgotten? There’s a target painted on your back, and I’m one of those taking aim at it,” then in amazement, “My stars! What’s happened to you?! You’re a mess!” seeing Nox’s condition, she raged to herself, “They’re not following the plan!”

“Darth Zash.”

Zash made a sour face at Nox. Nox had spoken her name as though it were a vile epithet.

He wanted nothing to do with her and made as though to step around her and her four apprentices. A thought came to him, however, so he stopped. Looking straight into her eyes, he made his opening pitch.

“I know you’re looking for a chance to be elevated in the eyes of the others on the Dark Council, Zash. You're always plotting and looking for your next opportunity.”

Zash hid her emotions very well from Nox, and the placid expression on her face hid the sudden panic which struck her to the core.

“Our assassins weren’t supposed to strike, yet! Why didn’t they follow the plan?! Have I been discovered?!”

Looking at Nox’s condition, she knew he’d been in a serious battle.

“How would you like a chance for glory on the battlefield? It will definitely raise your status on the Dark Council if you can cover yourself in victories.”

Upon hearing his proposal, Darth Zash became very, very guarded. She expected Nox was about to trick her into incriminating herself, so that he’d have proof those were her assassins before he killed her. Her attendants quickly sensed trouble in Darth Nox’s words and their tension suddenly rose as well.

“What are you after, Darth Nox?” she asked, the sly humor gone from her tone.

Curiosity struck him, as Nox realized he knew nothing of his old master from the time before he’d met Zash as her apprentice.

“Have you ever fought on the front lines? Or have you ever fought in a large battle in your past life, Lord Zash?”

“Are you challenging me to a Kaggath?!” the fear in her voice was real, “Why?! I did nothing to warrant this!” she lied.

Her apprentices grasped their weapons, deep worry etched on their faces. Nox’s lips curled in a mocking sneer.

“Don’t worry, Lord Zash. I’m not after your head. Not yet, anyway.”

“Then what are you talking about?! Explain yourself!” Zash demanded.

Nox was about to speak, but noticed that crowds of onlookers were beginning to form at the passenger loading areas and just inside of the huge entrance of the cavernous lobby of the gargantuan government building. The onlookers were waiting for a duel to commence.

“Get on with your business!” Nox shouted, angrily, at the crowds, “Get moving! All of you!”

The growing crowds quickly broke up. The onlookers ran, expeditiously dispersing. Nox returned his attention to Zash and stepped closer, lowering his voice.

“It’s up to you, if you want to join me. I’m on my way to Korriban. The Jedi are conducting a raid on the Temple of The Sith. Darth Arkous is alone with the guard forces trying to hold off the Jedi and their two divisions of Republic forces. I’m on my way with my strong followers and what few military units I could muster.”

Nox stepped away from Zash, looking at the shock and surprise registering on her face, followed by a look that he recognized as quiet fury.

“You aren’t trying to lure me into a trap, are you, Lord Nox?”

“Meet me in orbit over Korriban. I am gathering my followers to me so that we can confront the Jedi in the temple as a single force.”

“First they take out our Emperor, and now this,” Zash said in a low voice tinged with fury. Inside, Zash was jubilant, “I’m safe!” She said through clenched teeth, “The Jedi are really pushing our buttons!”

Nox merely nodded as though he agreed with her, but a troubling thought persistently echoed in the back of his mind.

“Keeper, you had better not have left a trail that will lead to me!”

“Darth Marr has my military forces. So I cannot contribute troops,” Zash confessed, then promised, “but I’ll be there with two of my followers.”

Nox nodded his head once in acknowledgement, then suddenly walked off to enter The Citadel on his way to his offices. Zash didn’t realize that she’d just revealed to Nox that, of her four main followers, only two were any good at combat.

“She has many new followers, but she can only rely on two of them for combat?” Nox wondered in amazement to himself, concluding with a sneer, “Then she is very weak.”

Nox customarily entered his opulent office via his private turbolift, but this required that he be dropped off at his private speeder port four sublevels below his offices. Since he was delivered to the public entrance, he had to enter through his reception office. There, he was surprised to see the young acolyte who’d thwarted his experiment very early that morning.

“Remind me of your name,” Nox demanded.

“Master, I am Lennell Juuntos,” the youth said, then in amazement, “What happened to you?”

“What?”

Nox didn’t care for the youth’s familiar tone, but remembering his battered condition, excused the youth’s reaction.

“I had a run-in with a vine tiger,” he said to his unwanted apprentice’s greater amazement.

“Wow! You fought a vine tiger?!” Lennell exclaimed, forgetting himself, and forgetting who his master was.

“And I won,” Nox boasted, letting the youth’s impertinence slide, but then he got to business, “Acolyte Lennell. You will now face a great trial of combat. Get your weapon and report to my ship at Kaas City Spaceport. My ship is at landing pad four aurek.”

“Yes, Master! I’ll be there!” the youth swore.

“Wait,” Nox ordered.

The dark lord entered his office. The youth waited in the reception area. Five minutes later, Nox re-emerged, handing the young man a new credit card.

“Ask for directions to the military armorer. Purchase a suit of armor. I strongly recommend a medium grade flexible armored suit. It provides limited protection, but is light weight and allows freedom of movement.

“Also, be sure you purchase a molytex mesh under armor liner suit to wear beneath the flexible armored shell. I recommend the flexible armored shell be made from shocked nylaflex or heat-treated molytex molded panels. Shocked nylaflex provides slightly less armor, but is lighter in weight and more flexible than heat-treated molytex molded panels.

“Whatever you decide to get, be sure to be at the ship at…,” Nox looked at the chronometer on his holographic transceiver, “nineteen hundred. That’s in less than four hours.”

“Yes, Master.”

“Get moving,” the dark lord commanded before ducking into his office

The door slid shut behind Lennell’s master as the youth ran out of the reception office to make his way to the armorer.

Nox walked nearly a hundred meters across his hand woven masterpiece rug to his massive, hand crafted natural wood desk. Making his way behind the huge desk, he sat in his luxurious overstuffed office chair. Then, from his utility belt, he removed the twelve datacard cases containing the micro datacards with the telemetry data from his experiments earlier in the day, placing them in a drawer, which he then locked.

With that, Darth Nox finally relaxed. His scientific data was safe for his study at a later date. He planned to go over every bite of data with a very fine-toothed comb as it were, to unlock the mysteries of each Force ritual he’d experimented with that day.

“Heh, heh,” he chuckled, thinking, “All I have to do is come back alive from Korriban. Then I can study these data to my heart’s content.”

“2V-R….” Nox began to call out to his droid, but stopped.

He realized that with Andronikos preparing his starship for combat, the ship droid was most likely on the starship, and not in his office.

Nox stood from behind his desk and walked to his hidden private fresher. Once inside, he removed his blood red and deep black armor, and his under armor, placing each piece in the armor cleansing and repair system.

Nox entered the fresher and took a much needed and refreshing shower. He examined the bruise on his left side, and tested for broken ribs. There were none. Heading into battle, as he was, he counted himself lucky that the ugly bruising was the worst of his injuries.

Shortly after, Nox emerged from his private locker room in his famous brilliant yellow and deep black traditional Sith styled armor. His famous armor consisted of a semi-rigid cuirass with a tall rigid neck collar which protected the back and sides of his neck and flexible armored sleeves extending just past his elbows. The sleeves of his molytex under armor extended from beneath the armored sleeves to his wrists. His armored gloves and armguards protected his hands and forearms, overlapping his armored sleeves just over his elbows.

The lower portion of his armor consisted of a flexible armored kilt embedded with semi-rigid armored panels protecting his thighs. The armored kilt extended to just below his ankles, concealing his armored boots with shin guards.

Beneath his armor, he wore a molytex mesh one piece underlining body suit which gave additional armor protection, but more importantly offered superior thermal protection. While it didn’t give perfect protection, it could save him from the worst of a lightsaber burn.

For head protection, Nox wore a unique armored collar, also fabricated with the same materials as his flexible armor, which protected his neck, throat, his jaw and the back and sides of his head including his ears, but his crown above his ears was exposed. The part which protected his throat was brilliant yellow, and the rest of the armored collar was deep black.

There was a separate piece which snapped into place, to protect the crown of his head, but he had never before opted to wear it. This piece was fabricated using a rigid lightweight armored material. It was the same brilliant yellow as the rest of his armor ensemble, but the rim of the rigid skull cap was deep black. This time, he had it attached to his utility belt, where he could quickly grab it and snap it onto the top of the armored collar when the need arose.

Darth Nox had to make arrangements for a transport to his ship. Normally, he’d tell his droid to make the arrangements, but with the droid unavailable, he had to make the call himself. As he stared at his transceiver, it occurred to him he had no idea who to call.

Nox secured his transceiver as he made his way back to the area hidden by his holocron shelves. Five meters to the left of his private fresher was his private turbolift. It went down, four sublevels, to his private speeder port.

Unlike the very high speeds of the main turbolifts that serviced the building, this turbolift moved at a leisurely and sedate pace. The lift opened to a short corridor inside the sliding doors which exited to the speeder port.

Nox turned right, away from the speeder port towards the stairs on the right at the end of the short corridor. He took the stairs up one level into the headquarters of the Imperial Reclamation Service. He had to ask for directions to navigate the maze of corridors, offices, and cubicles until he got to the main office suite of the headquarters.

Darth Nox had only been to the headquarters of the Imperial Reclamation Service twice in the fifteen years since he’d started his service in the Sphere of Ancient Knowledge when Zash, Lord of The Sith, took him as her apprentice.

The young officers and junior enlisted, serving in the headquarters, had never seen the dark lord in their offices before. The senior officers and senior enlisted, who’d been there for years, however, had painful recollections of his previous visits.

Regardless of their experience, worry and dread began to wash over them all. The previous two times that Darth Nox had been to their headquarters, the Sith lord had carried out the executions of a few of their officers for some failure or other. No one was ever really sure why these officers were executed, however.

A heroic officer approached the dark lord and introduced himself. His peers and subordinates all felt pangs of dread and despair as they watched their favorite leader march towards his probable death.

“Dark Lord, you honor us greatly! We are proud to be in your service! I am Colonel Harten Larred. I am the administrative control officer tasked with overseeing the proper documentation of all artifact finds. How may I serve you?”

“Arrange for my transportation to Kaas City Spaceport. I shall wait at my private speeder port.”

The colonel’s eyes blinked rapidly in surprise and his features showed some doubt that he’d heard correctly.

“Do you not know where my private speeder port is, Colonel?” Darth Nox asked.

“Oh, uh, yes, Dark Lord. You want to wait there for a speeder transport to Kaas City Spaceport.”

“Yes, although I hope I shall not have to wait for too very long,” Nox said with a small bit of concern in his tone.

“I’ll be sure you are not kept waiting, Dark Lord.”

“Good,” Nox said.

The dark lord turned to leave, and seeing the maze before him, realized he didn’t know how to get back.

“Where are the stairs that go to the speeder port below?”

“This way, Dark Lord.”

The colonel escorted Nox to the stairs. As Nox took the steps down, the heroic colonel returned to his desk. There, he made arrangements for Nox’s transport. Everyone in the office sighed in great relief when the colonel returned, unharmed.

At the bottom of the stairs, Nox turned left into the small corridor and walked past his turbolift, touching the door contact, which opened the sliding doors to the speeder port. The private speeder port was tiny, only supporting two vehicles at one time. The air currents buffeted him, but there was no danger of getting blown off the deck.

Darth Nox stood on the platform outside of the mega building hundreds of sublevels below ground level. He looked across the five hundred meter wide chasm, up to the top of the gargantuan rock cliff face to where ground level actually was. The massive speeder and taxiport of The Citadel was three hundred and four stories above his private speeder port, and around the corner of the mega building, seven hundred meters to his left.

It was as though he were deep down in a narrow canyon. He could hear the echoes of the speeder traffic very high overhead. The narrow sliver of sky, which he could see indicated it was late afternoon, Dromund, Dromund Kaas’ star, would set soon.

Nox sighed, resigned to expect a long wait before a speeder would arrive to his private speeder port. It was over a three hour drive to the tiny spaceport in the southeast quadrant of the city.

“I’m going to be late for the scheduled launch,” he thought out loud.

The dark lord shook his head in mild disgust. He hated his appointments showing up late and hated showing up late to his appointments, unless it suited his purposes. He walked to the edge of the platform, which extended beyond the side of the mega edifice.

Looking down hundreds of meters to the bottom, Nox let out a big wad of spit and watched it fall, making turns and swoops as it descended through the swirling currents of air. Nox lost sight of it long before it hit the bottom.

The dark lord had been waiting some time and was about to return to the office to ask the colonel to call again, and to light a fire under their butts, but just then he started to hear the echoing approach of a speeder in the canyon-like gap. The echoing approach of the speeder as it descended into the narrow canyon was distinct, so he knew it wouldn’t be long. Nox moved back from the platform to the passenger waiting area so that the speeder could land.

“Uhg! It’s about time!” he sighed, frustrated, adding facetiously, “I only had to wait thirty minutes.”

Shortly, thereafter, the speeder slowed to a stop on the taxiport landing deck. Darth Nox stepped towards it, when a powerful sense of impending doom overcame him. Nox used the Force to dash back into the passenger waiting area and to the sliding doors. As he neared the doors, he blasted them into the building and out of his way with a massive Force Push attack.

Darth Nox ran into the building, just as the speeder exploded, killing its driver and assistant driver. The blast wave traveled into the small passage way and caught up with the dark lord throwing him forward.

Darth Nox regained consciousness. The world seemed to spin greatly around his head. He was initially unable to sit up. Imperial officers calmly issued orders, as sergeants and corporals shouted commands and harangued the troops to move quickly to carry out some urgent task or other.

Lights were shined into his eyes and a question was asked.

“Can you hear me, Dark Lord? Do you feel pain or numbing anywhere?”

“Summon Colonel Harten Larred. I will have words with him,” Darth Nox said, slurring his speech.

“I’m here, Dark Lord,” the colonel said, concealing his great worry.

Nox’s vision finally began to clear and to focus. Nox spoke in a measured and seemingly calm manner as he finally managed to sit up against the wall of the passageway.

“Colonel Harten Larred, tell me about your coconspirators. For whom do you and your fellows work?”

“That is not the case, Dark Lord. As ordered, by my dark lord, I contacted the speeder pool and quickly arranged for your transport. After that, I have no knowledge of …”

Nox interrupted, as he unsteadily regained his feet, against the advice of the emergency medical response unit leader.

“You called for a transport from outside of the Imperial Reclamation Service?”

“Well… yes, Dark Lord. The Imperial Reclamation Service headquarters doesn’t have a speeder pool,” the colonel answered, his voice slightly quavering.

“How do you get around? If you need to get around, how do you do it? Don’t you have any speeders that you use?” Nox asked, evenly.

“We rely on the 5727th Mobilization Division to supply us with transportation, Dark Lord, as do many of the headquarter elements of other units at The Citadel. We don’t have our own vehicles at the headquarters,” Colonel Larred answered, clarifying, “All of our speeder pools are with the forward deployed archaeological units scattered throughout the galaxy.”

The colonel gulped back his fear, which he managed to hide well from his subordinate officers and enlisted personnel. However, Nox could not only sense his terrible fear, but also a complete lack of deceit.

A sergeant marched right up to Darth Nox and Colonel Larred. Coming to a complete halt, he snapped to attention and rendered a parade grade military salute to Darth Nox. Nox nodded his reply, waiting for the sergeant to speak. The sergeant pivoted to face the colonel and reported.

“Colonel Larred, Military police are here with two Sith observers. We are holding them off, as you’ve ordered.”

“Did you summon them, Colonel?” Nox asked.

“Yes, Dark Lord.”

“Why?”

The colonel seemed perplexed at the question.

“Dark Lord, a terrorist attack and attempted assassination had just been perpetrated. So, I called the police.”

Nox turned to the sergeant.

“You said Sith lords were with them?”

“Yes, Darth Nox, Sir. Two Sith lords.”

Darth Nox closed his eyes and reached out with The Force. He could feel their fear, and their hatred. He opened his eyes and looked around a bit and noticed the medical droid with the emergency medical response team.

“Droid, sit there against the wall,” Nox ordered, pointing where.

“Patient 34-YTH-73, it is strongly recommended that you follow the emergency medical response team’s medical advice,” the droid replied.

The emergency medical response team leader repeated Nox’s order, pointing where.

“Sit there, EMR-123PKM-WR45.”

The droid sat as ordered. Nox then issued new orders.

“You will all pretend that is me,” he told the emergency medical response team and the personnel of the Imperial Reclamation Service at the scene, “You will pretend that you are administering emergency medical attention to me. Say things that suggest that I am unfocused and unable to understand instructions.”

“Yes, Dark Lord,” the men replied, with looks of doubt and confusion on their faces.

To the emergency response team leader, “Ensure the droid does not reply to any inquiries. It is to remain still, and remain silent.”

“Yes, Dark Lord,” the team leader replied, before issuing the droid its orders, “EMR-123PKM-WR45, remain still, and do not move from that spot. Reply to no inquiries, and disregard all instructions except mine.”

“Understood, Sergeant,” the droid replied.

Nox stood before the droid, and asked, “Droid, what is my medical condition?”

The droid remained silent.

“Stand up, Droid.”

The droid remained still. Stepping away from the droid and turning the personnel, Nox issued new orders.

“Colonel Larred, you will stand over there,” Nox said, pointing where, “Keep your eyes on the droid and at the EMR team working on it.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Wear a look of great concern on your face,” Nox ordered, adding a caution to all, “Do NOT under any circumstance look at the real me. Always keep your eyes on the droid.”

“Yes, Dark Lord.”

“Sergeant, escort the military police unit and the Sith here. Point at the droid and say, There is the dark lord. Then I want you to leave. Do not stay in the area.”

“As you command, Dark Lord,” the sergeant replied, stomping his boot and turning about, before marching off to carry out his very strange orders.

Darth Nox walked a bit away from the scene and stood against the wall, where he waited for the investigators to arrive. The wait, however, was not very long as they heard the sergeant say his line.

“There is the dark lord.”

The emergency medical response team leader spoke his line as the Army military police soldiers and their Sith lord observers approached.

“The dark lord seems confused.”

As the emergency medical response team leader shined a light into the droid’s eyes, one of the Sith lords spoke to the droid.

“Are you well, dark lord?”

The medical response team members and the Imperial Reclamation Service officers and enlisted were all in shock and deeply amazed at how the Sith lords and the military police actually believed that the droid was the dark lord. They all remained silent, however, as the charade played on.

“What’s happened?” Nox asked in a frail and confused tone, “Where, where am I? Who are you?”

“Can you stand, Darth Nox?”

“What? I don’t understand?” Nox said in a feeble voice.

Suddenly, the Sith drew, activated and attacked the droid with their lightsabers. Before the Sith lords could turn their weapons on the Imperial soldiers at the scene, one of the two was struck by a thick white bolt of lightning that instantly killed him and assaulted the ears of all present with its powerfully explosive crack.

The second Sith lord, realizing what had transpired, charged at Darth Nox in desperation, but he was struck in the back with blaster pistol fire at the hands of Colonel Larred. The Sith lord fell dead, on top of his still activated lightsaber. The Sith lord’s dead flesh began to burn when the saber beam had cut its way into the dead Sith’s armor.

Darth Nox used The Force to extract the weapon from underneath the dead Sith, and again used The Force to deactivate the weapon. He walked to the two dead bodies and looked at their faces. He didn’t recognize either man, and therefore could not tell which of his rivals on the Dark Council the assassins served.

“Colonel Larred, find out who these two men are. Find out which sphere of influence they work for and report it to me.”

“As you command, Dark Lord,” Colonel Harten Larred answered.

Nox turned his attention to the four Imperial military police soldiers, who were frozen in shock at what had transpired.

“Who sent you to kill me?”

“Dark Lord, I swear, I don’t know anything about what just happened here. We were ordered to respond to a bomb blast. These two Sith lords were assigned to accompany us, and we…”

“Who assigned them to accompany you?” Nox interrupted.

“Captain Yerris Buttahn assigned them, Dark Lord,” the military police sergeant replied.

“Colonel Larred, accept the weapons of these four police and confine them under guard in one of the archives down below,” Nox commanded, adding, “When I return from Korriban, I shall continue the investigation.”

“As you command, Dark Lord,” the colonel replied.

Then pointing at a few of his subordinates, he commanded, “Take their weapons and communications equipment. Take them down to sub-level three fifteen, warehouse twelve.”

“Yes, Sir!” A sergeant replied crisply before snapping orders at his enlisted subordinates.

“Lieutenant Gert, you shall establish a guard force, and create a guard schedule to stand guard at the makeshift brig where these soldiers shall be confined. Post no fewer than four guards per shift. Close access to sub-level three fifteen. No one is to access that sub-level, excepting the guard detail, until the dark lord has taken custody of these prisoners.”

“Understood, Sir,” Lieutenant Gert replied.

The military police sergeant spoke with a slight tremor in his voice.

“Dark Lord, I swear we had no knowledge of these assassins. It is routine to have Sith accompany military police to crime scenes that involve other Sith lords. I didn’t even imagine something like this would happen.”

Through The Force, Nox could sense that the sergeant was telling the truth, but he gave him no reason to have peace of mind.

“When I return, I expect a written account from each of you, of how you were selected for this assignment, who selected you, how long these Sith had been working with your military police unit, and anything else that you can think of that will help with my investigation into what transpired here.”

“Yes, Dark Lord!”

“Don’t even think you can get away with lying to me. You cannot lie to me. I’ll know it,” to the soldiers assigned to take them to the makeshift prison, Nox commanded, “Take them away.”

“Colonel Larred,” Nox said, “find out which transportation units are involved with the speeder that was assigned to transport me. Get the names of unit commanders for each of these units.”

“Dark Lord,” the colonel pointed out, that would be the 5727th Mobilization Division.”

He could tell that Nox was thinking about more to say and waited for additional orders.

Nox shook his head in disgust before continuing.

“I don’t like it. The military police are involved, too, but we have no other choice. Coordinate with the Army military police to arrest that entire mobilization division. I want them arrested and jailed, with the goal of protecting them from assassination. There are witnesses and conspirators among them.”

“Dark Lord,” Colonel Harten Larred said, “if the dark lord finds it difficult to trust the Army, I could get the Imperial Navy Headquarters to supply Naval Investigative Services police troops for the arrest raid instead. Does the dark lord approve?”

“Yes! Do that!” Nox said, greatly approving, then adding, “I’ll leave the rest to you, Colonel. The goal is to ensure that the witnesses and conspirators are not killed, so that I may interrogate them when I return.”

“As you command, Dark Lord,” Colonel Larred said.

The colonel was greatly relieved, believing that Nox no longer held him responsible, but he was wrong. Nox unfairly blamed him, believing that the colonel’s stupidity allowed this to happen. He intended to rectify the matter when he returned from Korriban.

Darth Nox stepped away from the officers and soldiers as they carried out their tasks. He produced his portable transceiver and placed a call.

“Everyone’s onboard, Boss,” Andronikos said, adding, “We’re just waiting on…”

Andronikos interrupted himself.

“Boss, you’re looking banged up, even though you’ve changed armor. What happened?”

“Bring the ship to the Citadel. Pick me up in the taxiport in front of the building.”

“Yeah, Boss. I’ll be there, fast.”

Nox cut the connection, and without another word to the troops made his way up the stairs and then through the maze-like passageways, which ultimately led to the turbolift. Frustratingly, he had to ask for directions along the way.

Nearly twenty minutes later, Darth Nox exited the turbolift and stepped into the lift lobby. It was crowded with bureaucrats, military officers, military security, with a smattering of Sith lords here and there.

Using The Force, the dark lord of the Sith elevated his voice so that he would be heard over the din of humanity echoing in the cavernous lobby..

“OUT OF MY WAY!!!”

The sea of people parted, as many fled to get out of the dark lord’s way. Nox proceeded, unimpeded to the cavernous lobby of The Citadel. His voice had filled the large space as well, and was echoing. The massive throngs of people in the enormous lobby stood still, nervously looking about to see where the dark councilor was, so that they could figure out which way to move to get out of his way.

As soon as he was identified, by his trademark brilliant yellow and deep black armor, the people fled out of his way. Their murmuring voices echoed low in the cavernous lobby, as they remarked to one another the disheveled and bloodied condition of the dark lord.

As the dark lord approached the massive entrance to The Citadel, he started hearing the high pitched whining engines of a starship, his starship. Massive crowds of humans, and a few aliens, were still trying to enter the gargantuan government building. And there he spotted Khem Val.

The beastly Dashade swung his monstrous war blade, an oversized, overpowered vibrosword. The Dashade shouted obscenities at the hapless citizenry, threatening to cut them down and eat their carcasses if they did not clear from the massive building entrance.

The mobs scattered from the entrance for fear of their losing their lives. Darth Nox strolled out of the gaping entrance of the massive tower on his way to the back of his starship, parked right outside the building’s entrance.

“Heh… Heh… Heh…” Nox gave a low mirthless chuckle, thinking, “My enemy will learn very soon that he has failed to destroy me. He will be drenched in fear as I close in on him and unmask his identity.”

Nox suddenly remembered Zash’s very guarded behavior.

“She couldn’t possibly be in any position to challenge me. It can’t be her. Can it?”

He decided to keep close watch of her, and Keeper came to his mind.

“That fool! Luring the Jedi to Korriban! I should execute him!” Nox thought, savagely, but then Darth Zash came to mind again.

“I still need him, but it might be more trouble to keep him.”

Nox was torn about what to do about Keeper.

He strode up the ramp of the starship. Khem Val fell in behind his master up the ramp and then into his master’s luxuriously appointed Fury-class Interceptor.

The ramp almost immediately came up and shut tight as the airlock established its air tight seal against the vacuum of space high above the atmosphere. The engines wound up their banshee screams and the starship levitated quickly into the air. It rose so quickly that it was already half way up the height of The Citadel.

Zash was standing at the window of her opulent office looking down at Nox’s Starship as it rotated ninety degrees facing straight up. The massive panes of transparasteel windows had been masking the high pitched whine of the engines, until Andronikos barely nudged the throttles to one percent light speed.

The engines, shrieking screams, penetrated Zash’s windows, as the ship shot upwards, but their screams were suddenly covered and obscured by their gargantuan thunderous roar. The starship’s engines’ roar filled the entire sky, and caused hundreds of millions of windows in Kaas City to vibrate violently. The roar of the twin starship engines were transmitted inside every home, every office, every business, in the megalopolis and into much of the jungle surrounding the walled city.

The starship’s thunderous roar continued to echo across the sky, drowning out the sounds of speeder traffic throughout the city long after the starship had left the planet’s atmosphere.

Darth Zash had stepped away from her violently vibrating window in her office, on the seven hundred and twentieth story.

“Aruk! That fool! Why couldn’t he follow the plan?!” she thought furiously to herself.

She continued to stare out the window of her palatial office, with her sky-high view of the city below. However, all that filled her mind was Darth Nox’s roar through her violently shaking window as he shot into space.