Star Wars STAR WARS: EPISODE XII: LEGACY OF THE FORCE

THE SIEGE OF JAKKU

IN ORBIT - MOONLET

IC: Asori Rogriss
Commandeered First Order base

The orbital situation had changed over the six months. The Tho Yor had slowly but surely reoriented around their prey, allowing the Resurgent-class Star Destroyer to slink out-system.

They’d kept the jamming up, kept tractors on ships as need be to keep them in the cordon, kept gravity well generators up. While in theory one or two small ships could sneak out the system, it was not an easy task, and sneaking in was much easier than getting out.

Eventually, the entirety of the fleets gathered here were backed on to Jakku, their quadrants of the upper hemisphere. None were above the Sith Temple, but still, they had their backs against the wall.

The Megador; the various ships headed by a sole surviving Onager-class Star Destroyer; the Scythe and the listing Errant Venture; the two One Sith Dragons XoXaan and Omen. Missing were Jedi TwinTails, hidden somewhere, systems of and the Force drawn close. Interspersed among them were minimal hulks; whenever a ship fell behind it was promptly consumed by the Tho Yor, and converted into mass for the monoliths or more TIE Daggers, that periodically raided the Resistance fighters.

That, and the minefield.

The Tho Yor had surrounded the planet in an immense minefield and drawn back, placing Jakku and its moon in that line. While couriers could carry messages between the jamming between the craft, TIE Daggers had thus far intercepted and shot down each and every single one.

THE MOON OF JAKKU



The analysis was, slowly but surely, that they were in trouble. The situation had been mostly static for the last six months, if not gradually growing worse.

When they’d been outside the Tho Yor cordon, they’d been able to connect with the galaxy, to see the fall of Adumar, collapse of the northern local governments, the worsening situation. But with glacial patience the Tho Yor had turned around their respective enemies and deployed a system enveloping minefield that they’d clearly been nurturing for months inside their internal factories.

It had been Asori plenty of time to lament the death of her father, and the loss of her world. She’d been twenty-nine when the Empire was no longer safe, when her fathers honour meant they could no longer support the corruption of the Moffs. Adumar had been her home since then, for three decades and more besides. Asori had fought Pellaeon, the Yuuzhan Vong, and Galactic Alliance besides her father, and the aging man had survived it all. But this war? This one and cost Asori her father and home, and it was hard.

Where his brother was, she couldn’t say, but Asori felt that she’d know he she was gone. Surely she would?

She was standing over analytics, conscious that their forces were probably the most well provisioned and positioned to make a difference and she was glad that it was Trec who had to make all the decisions right now. Asori turned to look at Trec and see what brilliant plan he had in mind now they were inside the minefield.

And then the comms crackled to life.

TAG: @adaml83 (combo)

(See second TAG too please)

 

THE SIEGE OF JAKKU

IN ORBIT - THE SITH DRAGON XOXAAN

IC: Seha Dorvald
Aboard the XoXaan, tertiary adjunct

The orbital situation had changed over the six months. The Tho Yor had slowly but surely reoriented around their prey, allowing the Resurgent-class Star Destroyer to slink out-system.

They’d kept the jamming up, kept tractors on ships as need be to keep them in the cordon, kept gravity well generators up. While in theory one or two small ships could sneak out the system, it was not an easy task, and sneaking in was much easier than getting out.

Eventually, the entirety of the fleets gathered here were backed on to Jakku, their quadrants of the upper hemisphere. None were above the Sith Temple, but still, they had their backs against the wall.

The Megador; the various ships headed by a sole surviving Onager-class Star Destroyer; the Scythe and the listing Errant Venture; the two One Sith Dragons XoXaan and Omen. Missing were Jedi TwinTails, hidden somewhere, systems of and the Force drawn close. Interspersed among them were minimal hulks; whenever a ship fell behind it was promptly consumed by the Tho Yor, and converted into mass for the monoliths or more TIE Daggers, that periodically raided the Resistance fighters.

That, and the minefield.

The Tho Yor had surrounded the planet in an immense minefield and drawn back, placing Jakku and its moon in that line. While couriers could carry messages between the jamming between the craft, TIE Daggers had thus far intercepted and shot down each and every single one.

ABOARD THE SITH DRAGON



The Sith Dragon named XoXaan had been named for Lord Krayt’s master, one of the original Dark Lords of the Sith who had left a Holocron to continue her legacy. XoXaan herself had died during the shadow wars, hunted by the Ronin Ajunta Pall and Sheev Tapani some seven millennia ago.

But not before she recorded her teachings, and left them in her tomb on Korriban - not that she had been buried there. As was often the case, the Sith made edifices to their success and didn’t make it to their prepared burial place. Sith like Ku’ar Danar, Naga Sadow, Ludo Kressh, Darth Bane, even Darth Vader, they had never been buried where they intended, the twists and turns of open warfare capturing them unaware.

But their legacy could be picked up and taken anew, as it had by Darth Krayt, and forged into the One Sith Order. Reforming the Dark Jedi of the Shadow Academy into a Sith legion, and then hiding in the cloister of XoXaan in anticipation of their coming to the aid of Palpatine’s Final Order. Krayt had survived the Battle of Exegol and taken the One Sith independent, preparing his own war of conquest - or liberation, if the First Order proved as tyrannical as it seemed.

But here they were now, the One Sith trapped at Jakku with the rest. The New Jedi Order had attacked them, been repelled, and then the Tho Yor trapped them anyway. The flagship was lost in the initial ambush, and the ChaseMaster frigates that had acted as escort for the two surviving Dragons - the Omen, commanded by Grand Lord Takaris Yur being the other - long gone, consumed by the Tho Yor and converted into the replete minefield.

But Seha Dorvald hadn’t been concerned about that for some time now. No, she and Talon had been on the run, sticking to the shadows of the Sith Dragon to avoid being caught and killed. They might have considered just blowing up the Dragon, but there had been a couple of factors.

One, the Jedi TwinTails might be nearby and shredded by the detonation. Occasionally Seha had a sense of them - Zekk, Tesar, Lowbacca, others - and she couldn’t countenance a suicidal action that did more damage than good.

Two, the Sith had captured Tahiri. Blowing up her was not something Seha wanted to do. She’d vetoed it to Talon, even before she mentioned it, and with how close the confines of the various maintenance shafts, darkened corridors and so forth of the capital ship were, Seha was sure that Talon was fed-up of them being in each others personal space. There was a definite tension there, between them, and Seha tried to ignore it, especially as her mind was often shifting to Ben Skywalker, for some reason.

How obsessed Talon was with killing Darth Wyyrlok II after six months of ambushes, chases and fights on the wrong side of outnumbered Seha couldn’t say.



How much she cared about saving Tahiri from the One Sith, she couldn’t say. Did Talon appreciate that Tahiri had sacrificed herself for them?




How close Talon was to just returning to the Sith, she couldn’t say.

Seha was getting the courage to ask, to risk a confrontation, when their comlinks triggered - the first time in six months, to the point Seha had forgotten she was even carrying it -

A female voice.

One Seha knew.

“Vestara…”

TAG: @CosmoHender (combo)

(See second TAG too please)

 

THE SIEGE OF JAKKU

IN ORBIT - SCYTHE

IC: Wedge Antilles
Aboard the Scythe, hangar

The orbital situation had changed over the six months. The Tho Yor had slowly but surely reoriented around their prey, allowing the Resurgent-class Star Destroyer to slink out-system.

They’d kept the jamming up, kept tractors on ships as need be to keep them in the cordon, kept gravity well generators up. While in theory one or two small ships could sneak out the system, it was not an easy task, and sneaking in was much easier than getting out.

Eventually, the entirety of the fleets gathered here were backed on to Jakku, their quadrants of the upper hemisphere. None were above the Sith Temple, but still, they had their backs against the wall.

The Megador; the various ships headed by a sole surviving Onager-class Star Destroyer; the Scythe and the listing Errant Venture; the two One Sith Dragons XoXaan and Omen. Missing were Jedi TwinTails, hidden somewhere, systems of and the Force drawn close. Interspersed among them were minimal hulks; whenever a ship fell behind it was promptly consumed by the Tho Yor, and converted into mass for the monoliths or more TIE Daggers, that periodically raided the Resistance fighters.

That, and the minefield.

The Tho Yor had surrounded the planet in an immense minefield and drawn back, placing Jakku and its moon in that line. While couriers could carry messages between the jamming between the craft, TIE Daggers had thus far intercepted and shot down each and every single one.

ABOARD THE SCYTHE

Wedge felt his age today.

His losses.

A lifetime of pilots, of Star Destroyer crewers, of friends and family; a wife, a stepson; battles and worlds.

Today it was the Errant Venture, which was now drifting, lifeless, besides the Scythe. He and Ackbar had concluded that sharing their limited resources between three ships - the third being the one the Lexrul forces had brought to Jakku - was a very good way to lose quicker, and they didn’t have the fighters to warrant two launching platforms. The Venture had fought at every major engagement in the last sixty years, it was nowhere near as efficient or powerful as the MC140 prototype, even though the Mon Calamari design was a third of its size.





The remnants of Black, Corona and Rogue Squadron were gathered in the hangar of the hangar bay of the Scythe, and among them had every torpedo, litre of fuel and unit of blaster gas left available. The Quarren forces were long gone, and the carrier they’d had, scuttled and consumed by the Tho Yor and transformed into a minefield.

It was becoming hopeless, and Wedge looked at his daughter, son-in-law and granddaughter and began to worry that they’d die with him here. With Tiber, his pregnant better half Zara, and more besides. Even if they won, Wedge worried for his granddaughter, who seemed to have been hard radicalised by the months of loss.

There just didn’t seem to be a specific point to strike, to turn the tide and win… and without a way to coordinate between the other players in-system…

Wedge stepped off the last shuttle from the Venture and found himself looking at the pilots and surviving crew members and wondering if they expected a speech, a last minute strategy from the military genius that was Wedge Antilles.



He swallowed, ready to speak, and then all their comlinks activated.

TAG: @galactic-vagabond422, @darthbernael, @Adalia-Durron

(See second TAG too please)

 

THE SIEGE OF JAKKU

THE TEMPLE OF THE CONTINGENCY

IC: Vestara Khai
Control Room

It had taken her weeks to get here.

Stranded when Ship was shot down, she’d been forced to abandon him and head on foot. Determined but unworried, the Sith woman knew that Ship had self-repairing mechanisms and would come to her aid when he could.

Whatever had happened, Vestara knew that it was intrinsically woven in with the fate of Ap’lek, the last Knight of Ren. She’d figured out that his resurrection cradle was beside the Controller, the mechanism that had allowed Snoke to command the Celestial technology. She knew Ap’lek had survived, woken in his final clone body, and then something had gone… wrong.

As she has snuck past First Order Stormtroopers she realised just what had. The control area was a mess, with consoles ripped apart by lightsaber strikes, black-robed acolytes dead on the floor… and a veritable mountain of shattered Kyber covering the room. From there was a pile of bodies in various states of clone disfigurement, some recognisably Knights of Ren, some unrecognisably Ap’lek… mutated, naked versions of the Falleen.

If Ap’lek had been forced to kill himself again and again, she suddenly understood that he may have simply gone insane. Vestara actually grew somewhat fearful when she crossed into the final chamber inside the underground cavern.

But there he was.

On the floor, breathing, his eyes wide open but clearly not seeing anything. Catatonic with shock, maybe. Vestara looked over him briefly to see he was minorly wounded but her eyes were drawn to the immense screen behind him; it showed Jakku in its entirety, and a shaft running to the planets core. “Oh,” she said, without thinking.

It was a bomb.

The entire planet.

It could crack and destroy everyone here.

In get shock, her eyes glossed over the rest of the displays. There were many redlines; the Kyber Crystal in the other room had been the Controller mechanism, and it’s destruction had damaged the Tho Yor matrix, but a secondary source was giving instructions to the monoliths so Snoke’s position wasn’t compromised… but a Force user was needed to command Jakku’s destruction… and Ap’lek had clearly killed then all, and resisted.

Vestara looked to the Knight of Ren, to the Kyber detritus, and called one of the crystal shards to her. The systems called it the Heart, one of four such Kyber concentrations. Intrigued, she poured herself into the Kyber and tried to retrace her steps. A twist of her mind, and suddenly she had it.

Looking at Ap’lek, she ruthlessly clamped down on her emotions, and poured a bolt of lightning into him; jump-starting him. “Come on, Ap’lek, it’s time.”

As he recovered, she turned to the Kyber and spoke.

Ap’lek’s first thought would be that he couldn’t hear Snoke anymore. That something had shifted within him, and he was free.



Finally.

TAG: @Silvertough (combo)

(See second TAG too please)

 

THE SIEGE OF JAKKU

THE MESSAGE

The comms of everyone crackled to life and a woman’s voice came through. By everyone, it included personal comlinks, forgotten about for months in pockets, X-wing channels, capital ship transmitters, across the entire system - even those merely witnessing the violence would be looped in.

I have infiltrated the Sith Temple here on Jakku, the heart of the Contingency that Snoke has put here. Jakku is a trap - a rigged planet ready to explode. It always has been, and Snoke has primed it again.

The Controller has been destroyed - a massive Kyber Crystal that Snoke has dominated, but there is another - one more Kyber Heart that he uses to command the Tho Yor. I don’t know where Snoke is, but I know he is watching us through the Tho Yor. He knows Jakku hasn’t destroyed us all, it’s why he’s mined the entire system - he now knows that I’ve taken the control room here, and I am sure his army on the surface will come for me.

It’s because I’m using the Kyber shards here to break the communications blackout here; you can talk, for now.

Figure out how to win this fight, before we all die.

She cut the line, and left them to their plans. Some of them wouldn’t be concerned, some of them would be too busy, some of them would be the leaders they needed to weave them back into a Galactic Alliance.

TAG: @darthbernael, @CosmoHender, @Mitth_Fisto, @Adalia-Durron, @Sgt.Matt, @adaml83, @galactic-vagabond422 @Silvertough, @TheAdmiral, @darthhelinith, @TheSilentInfluence

 

AJAN KLOSS

IC: Connix
Aboard the wreckage of the Knife 9, Ajan Kloss orbit

The Mandator IV-class Dreadnought had been disabled in a rather miraculous effort by the Jedi formerly known as the Mortis Knights. Missing for fifteen years while they hunted a mythological blade that could kill an eldritch Old One, they’d returned to a galaxy much changed.

Where they had left a recovering Galactic Alliance and hundreds of Jedi Knights, they returned to a decimated Odder and a collapsed Alliance, the New Republic destroyed and the Empire reformed into a murderous First Order. Celestial warships dominate the galaxy, and the rebels are on the run.

Here, at Ajan Kloss, the Jedi, led by Lando Calrissian, they found the refugee capital of the galaxy. With what little ships were left to fight, they took down the Knife 9, but at the expense of most of their fighters. Now they had the two Jedi’s personal craft, and the Lady Luck - and a million refugees huddled in a convoy, overlapping shields to keep them protected from TIE raids.

Their opposition? Seventeen kilometres of Dreadnaught - the Eclipse - complete with gravity well generators and an axial superlaser - as well as the Celestial signal jammer. For six months that ship had held them hostage, unable to communicate and unable to escape. It still had six squadrons of TIEs left, though they’d managed to destroy twice that number before now.

Connix, as Acting Chancellor, had Lando bring her aboard the wreck of the Knife 9, the First Order crew having long fled to the Eclipse. In the darkened hangar of the Dreadnought, Connix, Lando and the last two Jedi found supplies, fuel and even ammunition. They’d been able to restock and resupply, and rearm.

A yacht and two fighters.

Against a Dreadnought.

Connix pursed her lips, looking more like Leia than she ever had. “It’s been six months, and nobody has come to save us. So we need to solve this on our own. Apart from one command shuttle leaving the Eclipse at the start of the blockade, we’ve no indication of First Order intentions save to keep us here.”




She looked at them. Lando, looking aged as ever, was sitting on an overturned crate, watched the meeting with a shrug. Connix ended up deferring to the Jedi. “We don’t have enough supplies to keep the Mon Calamari refugees fed after this week. So we’re going to have to try to escape the cordon again… or attack the Eclipse.”

“I’m open to ideas.”

TAG: @ConservativeJedi321 , @Sarge (combo)

 

STARKILLER BASE II

IC: Darth Traya
Darkness

Outside the universe, there is nothing.

This nothing is oft called hyperspace; sometimes darkspace.

A tiny bubble of existence hangs in the nothing. This nothing is called a ship. A shuttle, in-fact, by the terminology of those who exist.

This bubble has neither motion nor stillness, nor even orientation, since the nothing has no distance or direction. It hangs there forever, or less than an instant because in the nothing there is also no time. Time, distance, and direction have meaning only inside the bubble, and the bubble maintains the existence of these things only by an absolute separation of what is within from what is without.

The bubble is its own universe.

Outside the universe, there is nothing.

Jaina Solo Fel hangs in the white, exploring the spectrum of pain.

In the far infrared, she finds cinders of thirst that bake her throat. Higher, up in the visible wavelengths, gleam the crimson wire-stretched ligaments that sizzle within her shoulders; grinding, glass-shard screams from her hip-joints like the death shrieks of golden starflowers. There is green here, too - bubbling tongues of acid hungrily lap at her nerves - as well as lightning-blue shocks that spasm her overloaded body into convulsion.

And higher still, now far beyond the ultraviolet betrayal that brought her here - the betrayal that delivered her into the hands of Snoke, the betrayal that gathered her into the Embrace of Pain, the betrayal of Vergere, truly Darth Traya, whom she had not trusted, no, not ever, but nor had she seen the true completeness of her treachery - she finds silent shattering gamma-ray bursts sleeping into her brain.

Those gamma-ray bursts are the colour of death.

Anakin.

Mara.

Jacen.

Han, her father.

Luke, her uncle.

Leia, her mother.

She has faced death many times over.

That her husband, Jagged, is not dead, merely mistaken. The magic charm that protected them until Sernpidal was back, somehow, unfairly saving her husband but not her brothers or parents or uncle and aunt.

That her brother had once been in an Embrace of Pain, shattered by the death of Anakin, and Vergere had turned him into Darth Caedus. It was implied before now; obvious now.

That her entire life had been nothing more than a shadow dejarik game between Snoke and Palpatine. Because if Snoke and Vergere were in league, that meant Vergere and Lumiya were in league, and that meant Darth Caedus had merely been a weapon aimed at Exegol.

Turning away from that fact means she sees only pain.

She cannot remember if she is on a ship, or planet-bound. She had been aboard the Eclipse, but she’s not sure if that happened to her, or to someone else. She cannot remember if such distinctions mean anything.

All she knows is the white.

But that is where the comparison ends.

Because in the white, inside her, there is life; her son, growing stronger and more, and she defended him from the white, the white which nibbled at her resolve, but she would not let it get to him.

She would reach for him.

But he was gone.

Where was he?

Where was her son?

The touch of a hand along her jaw leaked time into the white. It was not a human hand, not Wookiee, not family or close friend - four fingers, mutually opposable, hard-fleshed as a raptor’s talon - but the touch was warm, and moist, and somehow not unfriendly.

Pain retreated toward the back of her mind until she could think again, and Jaina Solo Fel could open her eyes.

To Vergere.

Darth Traya.



TAG: @Lady_Bellorum (combo)
—-
IC: Ben Skywalker
Twilight

He’d known all about this place.

Ben Skywalker, that is.

He had to remind himself of his name, more often than not. Snoke had told him that he was a clone, made him dress as Kylo Ren, do his dark deeds. He wasn’t Ben Solo though - he was Ben Skywalker.

His mother was Mara, killed by Darth Caedus.

His father was Luke, having sacrificed himself to save the Resistance.

Snoke and Palpatine had coloured his entire life, he knew this, knew that his cousin Jacen had been a pawn of Vergere, of Snoke… that Palpatine’s legacy was a mutated monstrous version of himself.

But he had come back to the belly of the beast, to Starkiller Base, reborn and recreated for Snoke’s final victory. Celestial and Rakata and Sith technologies and philosophies weaved together in the ultimate superweapon…

Ben knew the way, but he thought himself shadowed, mad, lost, and he couldn’t bring himself to confess to his crimes to Adam, to Jagged. He needed to repent, to forgive, to forget.

He went to the star named Olim.

He snuck in to the Perave system.

Approached the only inhabitable planet.

Used his codes to bypass the security net.

He ended up in Kylo Ren’s room.

His room.

Where else would Snoke put his cousin?

In the corner, catatonic, having been there for six months, in the place where he was awake and alive and dead inside and had killed and killed and killed.

The words drummed around his mind.

Ben Solo was a clone.

A clone.

A clone.

A clone.

But Ben Solo would know, intellectually, that it was impossible to clone a powerful Force user - which meant he was a degenerating body, that he would die, in weeks, or months.

He was walking death.

How would the man who had run Rey through respond when he was awoken by his cousin, by the young man who was named for him, who had been a Jedi prodigy after him, a Sith apprentice before him, a hero in his own right before him, Luke’s chosen successor in-spite of Ben Solo being right there.

“You’re not a clone, Ben.”

That was how he woke him.



TAG: @greyjedi125 (combo)
—-
Light

It was a small cargo ship that Finn had managed to stowaway aboard, mind-tricking a Stormtrooper search and avoiding Captain Phasma.

Finn distinctly remembered how chilled to the bone he had been to hear her voice, snapping commands and capturing refugees, spies and more besides. Intelligence agencies were desperate to track the movements of the supply chain. Bothans, Hapans, even a Yuuzhan Vong named Scut were picked up by the swift scans and brutal searches. The crewers of the freighters were replaced before they went to the final target, and so there were no opportunities to sneak even someone further.

How Zorii had managed it, and gotten word to Jannah, he couldn’t begin to fathom. Even with the Force, he’d had several near-misses. He gathered it had something to do with Abba, who was in the second of the boxes.

Bang, bang, bang!

He jumped, calling his lightsaber to hand a moment before he realised that was the signal. He looked up from inside his neuraniam covered box - a specific order apparently - and saw Zorii’s distinctive vizor. “Rebel scum,” she said, good-naturedly.

Also over the lip popped the small Babu Frik. “Hey, hey!”

“Hey, Babu,” Finn grinned, and stood up, helped out of the box by Zorii. “That’s me.”

He saw the streak of hyperspace through the windows to the small freighter. “May as well get all your jokes out now before we get there,” Zorii quipped. “Your sense of humour isn’t gonna last.” She reached over and used a tool to break Abba out, giving her old criminal friend a mere nod; they weren’t friends, merely associates, and her only way to get messages out and a second ship in. Neuranium was rare enough, that Snoke was looking for some was clinch data only a CIS lover could find; they were always hooked into weird metal sources.

“I don’t get why it’s so bad you couldn’t put that into the courier message.”

“It was risky enough sending one,” Zorii said. “If I put what it was, it would never have reached you.” Her tone was hard. “Hell, I reckon if I named it aloud now I’d cause a ripple in the Force that Snoke would pick up.”

“That bad?” Finn frowned, sweating slightly.

“That bad, that bad,” Babu confirmed, somehow sounding serious even with his preternaturally happy voice.

“But Rey’s here,” Finn said, firmly. “I can tell. She’s not dead.” Unconsciously his hand went to his chest; she’d been in pain, terrible pain, but she hadn’t died. Her light still existed in this place.

The ship decanted from hyperspace, and he finally saw what it was. Finally saw what had spooked Zorii so. It was a white, snow covered planet at the best of times, historically known for its crystal mines, mad scientists, and connections to the ancient Sith.

Of course there had been a Kyber Heart here.

Of course Snoke had taken the world and remade it anew.

Finn had a sinking feeling that went through his gut to his very knees.



It was another Starkiller Base.

And he sensed her, right in the middle of it all.

Rey was alive.

But this time, he wasn’t going to be chasing her down, screaming her name and panicking for her welfare. He was the Finn who had led the rebellion on Coruscant, who had overturned an Empire. General Finn. Emperor Palpatine’s rebirth had robbed him of the time to develop besides Rey, as a Jedi, suddenly ended the war only to transform the Resistance into Alliance into rebels again.

This time he was embracing who he truly was.

A true Jedi.



TAG: @Sgt.Matt, mention for @adaml83 due to Scut

 

DARKNESS

IC: Snoke
The Shadows

Musing.

Debating.

Triumphing.

Fearing.

Snoke loomed over his throne room.

He did not pace; his body still pained him with every step.

He had won; the Resistance, Imperials, Jedi and Sith were trapped at Jakku. Adumar had fallen; Ajan Kloss was besieged; the northern quadrant of the galaxy had fallen into chaos.

He had lost; the Resurrection ship had been destroyed, his cloning facilities on Kamino wrecked by Rey, Kylo Ren resisted his control, and Jakku had not detonated in six months.

But he would triumph; Starkiller Base neared completion, all but in secret; he had captured Jaina Solo Fel and her child to be; he had masterfully sidestepped the death of Palpatine and the Dark Side’s shadow to become his own master, free of Emperors or the Father of Shadows.

But he was vulnerable; he had not yet found a suitable host for his spirit, now his clone supply was cut. He was nearing the same position that Palpatine had been - with one body left, no vessel for him prepared. Could he risk taking Rey? Or Kylo Ren? Or even Jaina? When he’d a supply of bodies it hadn’t mattered - he did not need to risk taking Ben Skywalker’s body.

But now, he was the closest to victory and defeat he’d ever been.

The Legacy of the Force itself was up for grabs. The next person to win might rule for another century without resistance. The Jedi, the Sith, the Empire, the Republic - let old things die.

Indeed.

Let Old things die.

Kill the past, if you had to.

Kylo Ren had understood that… was he, even now, the greatest apprentice he had ever had? Even as Palpatine? Even as the mastermind of Darth Caedus?

His mind drifted back…

Spoiler

Many years ago

This was not his first venture without Palpatine behind his eyes, but it was among the most important. There were other Snoke’s that the Emperor puppeted, slinking from one to the other like a shadow attached to the soles of one’s feet.

Snoke took some time to experiment when he was awake, but not commanded by Palpatine. The Emperor was not yet secured entirely to his Ommin Cage, the framework which kept his body alive, and upright, so he would visit Korriban to manage his Inquisitors-come-Sith, or he would detach himself to command the Second Imperium. Those times when he was unmistakably Palpatine, or White Eyes, Snoke’s limbs were quiet of his influence.

It did not take much to ascertain his makers schedule, and to locate the other Snoke’s. One, on the Supremacy, another aboard the Drengir station, acting as the shadowed liaison to young Ben Solo, another, hidden in the depths of the Kathol Reach experimenting with duplicating the genetic key to the Eternal Fleet…

Those copies of himself he knew much about. He knew too that he was not a capable vessel for Palpatine’s essence, that his form was mutated and deformed and temporary. How many Snoke’s had already died to prop up the schemes of the First Order? Snoke did not know.

But he had his own intentions, his own plans - to sabotage his creator’s own projects, to perfect his own, to seize control of the Exegol cloners with the subtlest of turns of the Force. It had taken little to ensure Palpatine would never perfect a new clone, that he would be forced to confront the only lineage that could possibly contain his spirit - the Skywalker’s.

Snoke had been content to bide his time, but word had reached him that the One Sith had discovered the location of a Sith that was not aligned with their design, and had intended to draw her into the fold to eliminate her. Instead the Yuuzhan Vong had intervened, capturing two Sith and sending the rogue - the woman, fleeing. Or perhaps she had enabled the ambush? After all, she was Lumiya, Dark Lady of the Sith.

And now, another Sith, Vergere, had resurfaced, and the two were combined in their actions; suddenly, a Rule of Two had returned to the stage. The potential for the Dyad, as ever, as unlikely as it seemed. But whereas Palpatine and his newest toy, Darth Krayt, had an affinity for Korriban, Lumiya had been trained in the shadow - on Ziost. He knew she would be here, somewhere in the Citadel.

Commanding one of the numerous chrome hulled Nubian yachts of the Contingency, Snoke came to planetfall on the forested world. Once a city world of the same standing as Eriadu or Contruum, it had been depopulated by Emperor Vitiate over three and half millennia ago and never truly recovered. An advancing ice age had prevented a second recovery, even when returned to Sith hands by Darth Ruin for the best part of a thousand years. Only the ancient citadel remained, a broken down hovel from the same time as Ajunta Pall, XoXaan, Tulak Hord and the other original Dark Lords of the Sith. Twelve in number, once upon a time, with a shadowed thirteenth in the wings as herald or recusant.

Snoke was feeling fanciful, it seemed, or perhaps he merely sought to embrace the Sith with their lore. Women like Lumiya and Vergere wouldn’t care for that, though. They’d only care about enemies, that perennial unifier among the Sith.

He only hoped they had not approached Ben Solo yet; or all would be for naught.

The Empire would never be restored as a force for order if they had.

A dark bemusement to his malformed lips, and he brought the ship down atop the citadel roof, an immense landing platform. It responded, ancient mechanisms drawing him down into the hangar, and sealing him in, in the dark. Snoke smiled at the dark, and saw his own reflection in the viewscreen, twisted and distorted, smiling back.

In the glimmer of light generated by his console he spied two other ships, and he knew his intuitions had been true, that the risk he’d taken hiding Lumiya and Vergere from Exegol had been warranted. A twirl of a finger and the ramp lowered, and he padded out from the yacht, pain stretching his synapses as it always did, but that fire was merely his fuel; Snoke was a creation that was born to die. It served him well, added to his fervour to kill his maker.

Something both of these women had sought and attempted.

“I come with many reasons not to kill me outright, Darth Lumiya, Lady Vergere,” Snoke said, his voice grave, pitched through the shadows. His mind sought the lighting for mere ease, if only to enable him to illuminate the two Sith out of surprise.

“Not Darth, merely Lumiya,” came a voice to his left. Snoke tilted to his right, peering and was assured by a wisp of movement.

“And not Lady, merely Vergere,” came the voice, above him, as if perched atop his shuttle, and Snoke swept his hand, sending a gentle Force wave beneath his ship, bumping lightly whomever was beneath.

“We need not play cat and mouse,” he said, bemused. “I have no desire to hurt you; quite the opposite. I come with a warning.”

“A warning?” Lumiya’s voice opined. “For the Dark Lady of the Sith?”

“For someone who has hidden amongst the Yuuzhan Vong for fifty years?”

“I assumed that was indeed the case, Vergere,” Snoke said, pleased. “It got you ahead of Sidious’s assassins, no? A shame you never knew he was Palpatine.”

“You know a great deal about me…”

“Things only Palpatine should know, no?” Snoke turned a finger and pushed over one of the other ships with an exertion. It was minimally damaged, but he wasn’t playing in the dark forever. He was on a time limit. “I suppose I should tell you about Exegol then.”

“The mythical homeworld of the Sith,” Lumiya finished. “The way was lost millennia ago.”

“Lost and found.”

Vergere interrupted. “By you?”

“By Palpatine,” Snoke replied coolly. The two of them hesitated, and Lumiya exuded certainty.

“You’re a mutated clone of him,” she breathed, surprised. “Another Palpatine.”

“I am Snoke,” he corrected. “I am myself,” he said firmly. “Palpatine is my enemy.”

“Palpatine’s dead,” Lumiya said, firmly. “He died at Endor - his clones aren’t even Sith.”

Snoke turned on her location, a Force exertion yanking her forward, and he saw her lightwhip ignite in a chorus of snap-hisses -

A patter of movement on the metal floor, and Vergere was moving on him, a flicker of a finger on his outstretched hand triggered the lights, and he had a glimpsed of a Fosh hand reaching for his exposed wrist -

His free hand, pointed down, ignited with blue fire, and a bolt of lightning reflected up into her, sending her tumbling -

Lumiya’s lightwhip came furling for his neck and he stepped back, caught the edge of the ramp and landed heavily on his back, the energy slicing close to his nose -

Hissing, he went to sit up, aware he was not suited for this physical task, and Lumiya was already swinging down at him -

All this energy, he rued, and merely flexed a finger to catch the lightwhip fronds in a Force grip, and then he tilted the finger to send the lightwhip spinning from her hand -

And suddenly that hand dropped to his side, useless, no longer obeying him, and Snoke and Lumiya had a blank moment of staring at each other while they adjusted -

He lifted his other hand, she opened her palm and shot him in the chest, and his hand spasmed, a blast of lightning shredding her triangular headpiece -

“Enough!” Vergere said, bounding over, looking ragged with burns but otherwise fine. “He’s paralysed - my tears will do their work.”

Paralysed, Snoke thought, reflecting on Fosh tears, one reason of many why Sidious had erased Vergere’s homeworld. He lifted his still-functioning hand and seized them both, squeezing hard enough to render them both bug-eyed.

Lumiya held both her palms out to fire at him, to kill him, and Vergere placed a hand on her arm, whispering. “My neck is especially vulnerable -“

Snoke released them before the paralytic even prevented him from doing so. He merely breathed, hoping to achieve something from this disaster. “Palpatine is alive,” he just said it, no longer seeking the best time or angle to do so; aplomb was unnecessary now. “He cannot clone himself - his source material was sabotaged,” he tilted his chin to Lumiya. “He is trapped in a clone that wasn’t ready… but he’s planning for his return. Building a Sith Empire, in the Unknowns, from Exegol.”

Lumiya had seemingly understood Vergere’s point - Snoke could have killed her easily with a neck twist - and he hadn’t. He had been speaking the truth. She stepped over him, her eyes piercing. “Take me to him.”

“I cannot, and he would destroy you without a thought. That was his intention when he sent the One Sith to collect you.”

“Krayt is in-league with Sidious?” Vergere seemed surprised. “He hated Palpatine.”

“He took over the survivors of the Inquisitors and Shadow Academy on Korriban,” Snoke said, wincing as he tried to be comfortable in death. Not his first time, but always painful. “Krayt was mutated by the Yuuzhan Vong and cannot stand up to Palpatine without a cure… and Palpatine cannot be far from Exegol or risk his clone’s collapse.”

“So they entered a pact,” Lumiya surmised. “And where does Snoke fit in? A rogue clone?”

“He can duplicate me, because my body will not last. Assign me to key projects, puppet me from afar,” Snoke spat. “But I became self-aware, and now his cloning facilities can only create more of myself.” He grinned maliciously. “I will outlive Palpatine, unless he finds another host - which he intends to do when he unveils his new Sith Empire.” A cough. “For now he has me command the First Order, a group of secularist Imperials that led Jakku. The ones loyal enough to the Empire to enact Operation Cinder, who believed in order. From those he picks the ones who believe in himself for Exegol.”

“And causes mayhem in the galaxy behind proxies,” Lumiya finishes. “The Dark Jedi plots against Skywalker.”

“All experiments, of which the One Sith are but another,” Snoke couldn’t move both his arms now, but at least being numb was better than being in pain.

“Killing you doesn’t matter, does it?” Vergere said, directly.

“Not to me,” Snoke said, chuckling. “I gestate with my other clones; we are connected. They’ll know that I made contact.”

“So what would you have us do,” Lumiya said, drily. “We were looking to isolate one of the Jedi from the flock and use them to create a new Sith Lord… I’ve already handed over the necessary ingredients to destroy the Yuuzhan Vong to my contacts among the Chiss.” A sniff. “From the chaos of the Yuuzhan Vong, the galaxy will crave order, and the Sith will give it to them.”

“If we are going to create our orderly regime, it needs a single responsible sane Sith atop of it, one powerful enough to stand up to Palpatine and Skywalker,” Snoke felt the cold creeping up his throat, but was amused that Lumiya’s own plan had given him an angle.

Vergere narrowed her eyes. “We had intended to target the most vulnerable of the Solo children, but we wonder if he is too troubled, too unfocused, Ben Solo -“

“No!” Snoke said, so firmly he surprised them both. “Palpatine has his eyes on Ben, has had since birth. They have a connection - if you have made a move against Ben, he will know, he will come for you -“

The paralytic reached his tongue -

“We haven’t done anything, Snoke, nothing at all,” Vergere stepped over, her hands wet, and Snoke began to feel the cold subside. Evidently she could have saved him all along; indeed, one hand was upon his blaster wound, assisting with the healing.

They’d been torturing him.

Delicious.

Snoke felt his tongue again, and spoke, haltingly. “Target another Solo child, and find them a powerful apprentice. The galaxy will turn to whichever tyrant appears first. Sidious, or your - or our candidate. The First Order will bring what we want, without Palpatine’s madness, without the Sith way polluting the galaxy. Palpatine had foreseen his success, on a golden throne, himself, in Krayt’s body -“

Vergere’s eyes widened, and Lumiya stepped over her, returning her deactivated lightwhip to her hand, her own gaze narrowed. Snoke didn’t intend to recover, he was accelerating the collapse of this body himself, he didn’t need to be here, merely to guide the path, to keep them from Ben Solo -

“Our Sith needs to break the future…”

He grimaced.

“Then Chaos can be unleashed upon his Grand Design -“

The grimace merely hid his grin; the germ of true madness that Snoke had in mind.

“Vergere -“

“He’s wasting away, it’s his body, not the wounds we’ve inflicted -“

Fools, Snoke thought to himself as he rambled as if mad. “And after that, Palpatine can be led out of the shadows, and die, hunting a body, but this time -“ a splutter, “this time, Darth Lumiya, Darth Traya,” he reached for them with spasming hands. “This time he dies for good.”

And with that Snoke let his body expire, and he laughed his way into the netherworld of the Force.

Lumiya and Vergere stood in silence for a moment, before Lumiya spoke. “Not Ben Solo.”

“Not Ben Solo,” Vergere agreed, looking deep into the corpse before them.

“Lord Caedus will not be Ben Solo.”

 

Chapter One begins

 

IC: Atin-Kot
The desert of Jakku

Glad of the armor that had, in this era come to symbolize the Mandalorians, even though it had been his own people that had influenced that group to wear what they did, Atin-Kot sighed as his visor darkened with the sand storm dissipating. Often, during those howling, blinding, vortexes of wind and sand he was able to leave only his senses on alert and retreat into himself.

He’d felt the changes in his brother and had a feeling Zeseem could feel the same in him. It was different, of course, but there felt to be some similarities. Some of what he felt, as time went by and the communion he fell into in those times deepened, stirred memories, not his, that he’d learned in the last six months.

Six months and he was still learning, trying to decipher all that he was learning. However, what he’d already learned made him know the battle they were fighting here on the surface was merely one level of a battle that stretched from the mere physical, across the cosmos, and even unto realms mortals were not privy to.

As the dust began to settle he took the two staves, that his staff had broken into during a battle several months before, and slid them into the improvised holsters for them on his belt. His mind was elsewhere as he looked around the small encampment the remaining Jedi called home, at least for now. Only five Force users as he wasn’t sure that even the more mature Jedi of this time would classify himself as a Jedi anymore and, he glanced at Zeseem, his battle brother was more in the grey than the light these days as well.

Five Force users as well as several others, including the wookiee and the man he reminded himself. Memories floated to the surface of his mind, of time and again that those like him had found themselves with a, what could be called, motley crew of others, trying to stop those that wished to control everything or drown it in darkness. He had to shake it as the cry went out.

Sighing, turning, and pulling the staves out again, he scanned toward where he too now felt the speeders racing toward their camp. He began to trudge toward the nearest dunes as he noticed others also taking up positions to defend their camp. And then he caught the wookiee eyeing him. With another sigh, he sheathed the staves, moving carefully over the sands to support Barriss and T’ra Saa.

When he reached them, he found Zeseem already there, assisting. As his brother helped one, he went to the other, hearing the weariness in the Neti’s voice. Placing the gauntlet of one long fingered hand on her shoulder, not having to reach too high to do so, he let energy flow into her, reaching to sense for any wounds, trying to revive her.

The comms crackled to life and, as he listened, his head turned, peering through his visor at the Sith Temple in the distance.

I have infiltrated the Sith Temple here on Jakku, the heart of the Contingency that Snoke has put here. Jakku is a trap - a rigged planet ready to explode. It always has been, and Snoke has primed it again.

The Controller has been destroyed - a massive Kyber Crystal that Snoke has dominated, but there is another - one more Kyber Heart that he uses to command the Tho Yor. I don’t know where Snoke is, but I know he is watching us through the Tho Yor. He knows Jakku hasn’t destroyed us all, it’s why he’s mined the entire system - he now knows that I’ve taken the control room here, and I am sure his army on the surface will come for me.

It’s because I’m using the Kyber shards here to break the communications blackout here; you can talk, for now.

Figure out how to win this fight, before we all die.

When the woman’s voice stopped he turned back, helmet swiveling between T’ra Saa and Zeseem. ”I…I know where she is. I’ve, it’s a bit difficult to explain, been there before. And, I suspect whatever the Emperor hopes to use to destroy the planet would be there too. So..” he rolled his shoulders, loosening them, ”I believe that’s the best spot where I should go.”

TAGS: @Mistress_Renata, @CosmoHender, @Sinrebirth , @Mitth_Fisto, @Sgt.Matt

 

IC: Sabel, Decimus, Eleodie - combo with our GM
Aboard the Sunder

Admiral’s Office

In the mostly dark room two spots of color formed as the figure at the desk opened his eyes. The bright red color, eyes not hiding Sabel’s feelings, shone, almost lighting the room in red. He’d been contemplating, strategizing, trying to figure out what could be done next. Thankfully the minefield that was pushing them toward the atmosphere was vast; it wasn't as fully populated as the others, due to his orders to destroy any hulk that had to be abandoned, before the Tho Yor could pull it in to recycle into fighters and mine.

Even so, he was down to this Onager, the modified ships that he’d still held back due to the energy demands when they revealed they were hybrid Venator/Onager’s. Which meant, of capital ships, besides the smaller cruisers and assault carriers, which were as few as the capital ships, those were all he had. Supplies were diminishing, consumables too, so they needed to find a way out of this trap soon or they’d be down to being forced to the planet below and there was nowhere else after that.

Eleodie’s Stateroom

Decimus smiled at Eleodie as zhe cuddled close, the fiery emotions beginning to fade down to the level of affection they felt for each other. When the comm crackled, they nodded, feeling the urgency coming from the being they had grown even closer to over the last six months. So, when zhe bounded to zher feet, Decimus was already doing the same. It took just a moment to pull the bodystocking on and then slam themself into their armor. It sealed quickly over their form, helmet under one arm as they darted after zher, heading toward the bridge.

Admiral’s Office

Sabel listened to the broadcast with an arched eyebrow. One long finger tapped on the desk before he hit the intercom, ”Eleodie, Decimus, meet me in the flag office, just off the bridge.” he sent before leaning back in his high backed seat, fingers steepled before his face, as he considered what to do next.

Eleodie winced at the intercom. So he did know, as he'd summoned them both. No, surely not, it was a surprise to them too, to zher as much as Decimus... shaking off zher concerns - zhe was an adult after all - zhe nodded firmly, and led Decimus without saying anything further.

Zhe opted to ignore and furtive glances from the crew as zhe went...

Decimus felt Eleodie stiffen beside them, the tense moment as Lord Sabel called them both to meet him. The Red Guard felt secure that their Lord had no objections to them, after all he was the one that had asked Decimus to clothe her in the armor of a Red Guard, even months prior.

The sephi guard, as usual, ignored the crew, unless specifically approached by one, as they took the most direct route to the bridge and then the flag office. After receiving a single word response, ”Come!”, they opened the door, only closing it once they and Eleodie had entered.

Sabel sat behind the desk, an amused smile on his face. His attention flitted back and forth between the two of them before settling on Eleodie. ”Before other business, yes I know, and can feel your apprehension that I know.” He chuckled softly, ”How could I not, the emotions you two have fill the Force around you.” Raising a hand, ”You would have known, months ago, if I had any objections, Eleodie.”

He then abruptly changed the subject, playing the recording the crew had made of the broadcast, for the two of them. ”Intriguing development.” he murmured, as he glanced out of the viewport, toward the curve of the planet and the other quadrants that held those still fighting. Turning his attention back to the pair, ”I wonder if those present truly understand the diversity of who the Emperor chose to shove into his trap?” Eyeing zher specifically, ”Thoughts?” he asked with an arched eyebrow.

Eleodie's cheeks blushed gold, but zhe pressed on, analysis was zher primary use to the crew; zhe was no warrior like Decimus, armour or not. Zher mind cleared, zhe spoke up. "Have the Imperials not contacted us yet?"

The Rebels, sure, they might steer clear of a force styled in Imperial regalia, but the Remnant? They'd surely reach out.

Those two other capital ships, tentatively identified as Dragon warships, they were an unknown, and the cruciform designs of the new, modern X-wings - TwinTails, from what little comms had been snatched months ago - they had long vanished. The minefield around the Dragons and those TwinTails was particularly dense, having been reinforced by the consumption of a third Dragon and various ChaseMaster frigates.

The corners of Sabel’s lips turned up in a fractional smile at Eleodie’s blush. Doing that to one’s offspring, of which he was now certain zhe was his, was what he was sure was one of the perks of being a parent. But that was for later, still, delayed that talk was.

He glanced at Decimus when she asked about the Imperials. The sephi met his gaze then reached down, tapping at their wrist gauntlet, on the pad attached. Waiting for a few moments for the response, ”No, Lord, they have been silent on the comms.”

Sitting back in his chair once more, steepling his hands before his face, the smiled widened a little more, ”Perhaps they still worry, even in their worse predicament, that I intend to take their territories when we break free. A moot point at the moment, but people have refused to communicate for less.”

"So should we contact them?" Zhe said, sharply. "And which ones? Sure we have Imp designs, but that doesn't mean we like the Imps."

Decimus stiffened slightly.

"No offence intended, but we're not the Empire, are we? We're the... um... successors to the Empire of the Hand? We've never been involved in that Sith garbage, surely?"

Sabel let his features still, ”Did your…did Eleodie senior…tell you about my own past?” he asked as he arched an eyebrow.

”However, you are mostly correct. Whatever reason we were sent to the Unknowns, that reason is no longer valid and we are our own polity.” he glanced at Decimus, for a moment, ”If Palpatine were somehow able to return, demand your fealty, would he have it?”

Decimus’ eyes narrowed for a moment, ”Lord, our loyalty is to you and you alone.” they said carefully, eyes shifting for a moment toward Eleodie.

Snorting at that, Sabel glanced out of the viewscreen, ”Which to contact is a good question though. I sense so few strong in the Force among those in orbit; those who are seem to be on the surface and I doubt they could assist the battle here.”

Eleodie narrowed zher eyes. "Decimus, can we have a moment alone with our uncle?"

Decimus would likely look from zher to him, seeking approval in the shadowed room, Jakku's primary briefly behind the Tho Yor in the dim distance.

With a nod, Decimus turned, ”Please do not hurt zher, Lord. Zhe is important.” they said before the door shut behind them.

Sabel chuckled at that, sitting forward in his seat, palms flat on the desk. His red eyes met Eleodie’s eyes, ”Something tells me you know exactly what that just was. And I will flip Decimus’s words, do not hurt them. The Red Guard…they are almost as a child of my own.” he said with a slow wink at her.

Sitting back again, the left side of his mouth turned up in a small smile, ”That out of the way, what is it that you could not discuss with company?”

"You asked Decimus if he would be loyal to you or Palpatine, but you sidetracked whether you'd been involved with the Sith." Eleodie's eyes narrowed. "Uncle, what did our progenitor omit to mention?"

A dry chuckle escaped Sabel’s lips as his red eyes flared. The room around the two of them dimmed, darkness filling the space. He stood, seeming not to have moved as a body should but rather elevated to standing then shifted from behind the desk to stand before Eleodie. ”Your progenitor seemed to have omitted quite a bit. Some things that are quite important as well.” his tone as dry as the chuckle had been.

His eyes flared more and more as they locked on hers, his will suddenly filling the darkness that had become his office. Scene after scene burst into view in the darkness, a blue youth with power he didn’t know a Chiss male could utilize, a teen Chiss who had grown into his power and used it to excel in the CDEF academy, a young adult Chiss male that looked even more like Sabel now than the youths had who commanded a squadron of the CDEF, a hooded, cloaked figure with glowing red eyes kneeling before a wizened, stooped figure, the window behind the standing figure showing a starscape with Imperial SDs, a fully adult Sabel wielding a red bladed lightsaber facing down a foe while the sense of his will burst even stronger. And then there was a vision of Eleodie’s progenitor and Sabel in a bed, sharing in passion. Laid over the visions was a voice, felt more mentally than heard, ’The Force is strong in my family…my mother was a skywalker, I am an independent Sith, and my…offspring…does not yet seem to realize that zhe can use it too.’

In that moment his will pressed against her mind, opened to her, and admitted what he’d known since the moment zhe’d contacted him, that zhe was his child. Another dry chuckle filled the darkness that had returned and was slowly fading back to the office, ”Why do you think the Red Guard call me Lord, not just because I rule, but because they have all learned what they know of their own Force abilities from me.” His eyes flared one more time, ”And one, one of my favorite, adopted children, has bonded themselves to you, my offspring.”

Zhe blinked a few times; several times, actually.

Eleodie stood before zher 'uncle'.

"No. Our progenitor would have told us."

Zhe turned to go. "Leave us alone."

This was too much. Too much for Eleodie. He was zher progenitor, too? A Sith?

The door was still locked as Eleodie turned toward it. ”Us?” he asked, tone still dry, one eyebrow arched as he wondered if she thought Decimus would not listen if their Lord called. ”And your progenitor had a unique sense of humor. Zhe never told me you existed, but I could not deny the truth once I sensed it.”

Turning and stalking behind his desk his fingers splayed out as he placed his hands on the surface of it, leaning forward slightly. ”Take your time, talk to Decimus, recognize the truth of my words. But…” he pushed with his hands, straightening, his red eyes glowing, ”...not too much time, we still must escape this trap set for us.”

TAGS: @Sinrebirth, @CosmoHender, @Mitth_Fisto, @Adalia-Durron, @Sgt.Matt, @adaml83, @galactic-vagabond422 @Silvertough, @TheAdmiral, @darthhelinith

 

Combo with @Sinrebirth - thanks for so much fun!

IC: Jaina Fel and Vergere
Starkiller Base

In the rare moments that Jaina was able to think clearly, she vowed to never wear white.

She didn’t want anything white to touch her… it represented the static noise that preceded jolts of pain that mercilessly wracked her body.

White was so stark and cruel that it shut out everything else. Jaina couldn’t move, she didn’t exist there, nothing existed… all was erased except the pain. White nullified everything but pain, and the pain eradicated everything,

An even rarer moment was when she could find the energy to part her lips and speak. The hoarse sound that escaped her lips was startling because she didn’t recognize it.

What did you do to my baby?

She was aware that her eyes opened, but her vision was weak.

All she could see was the nightmare bird that only ever lied and ruined everything she touched. Vergere.

“Where is my son?” Jaina’s raspy voice demanded.

How long had she been restrained? Jaina couldn’t process time, but she had no recollection of delivering her son, so he had to be safely nestled within her womb. Yet she couldn’t feel him.

Vergere was capable of killing her infant, she was that evil and twisted.

Why_can’t_ I_feel_ him?

Vergere smiled, human-style, showing her teeth behind that beak.

Her crest turned green, and then orange, and then red.

Her antennae sprang back and forward as if distressed.

Her whiskers twitched, and she wiped at one.

Her knees twisted outwards, as she crouched down akin to an avian.

She was incredibly unreadable.

"Your son? Why, how do the dead know to ask about such things?"

Jaina would’ve laughed, or lunged at the witch… if only she could.

The dead, if only.

Dying would have to be easier, but the monstrosity wouldn’t allow her that relief. During moments of consciousness she imagined every possible conclusion.

One was to sever the vine-like restraints and use it to choke Vergere. Another possibility was that she could find the strength to snap the bird’s neck, it couldn’t take that much effort. But, her thoughts always ended with the same painful realization that her baby was gone.

“Why?” Jaina asked. “I’ve always lived just inside the line between dark and light. I’m no stranger to the darkness, and I’ve embraced it at times.” The effort of speaking was so difficult that she had gone limp in exhaustion, still she had to speak her mind before she was unconscious again. “You didn’t need this thing to convince me,” Jaina managed to force out the words. “All it would’ve taken was asking…”

Every fiber of muscle, and every tendon, felt as if it had been stretched to the breaking point, and then burned to ashes. She wanted to stop fighting to live, but not until she knew the fate of her child.

Vergere cocked her head, all avian again.

"Why is a question always deeper than it's answer, Jaina." A liquid shrug. "Why not? Or is this a matter of epistemology?"

She leaned closer, stood on her tip-toes and whispered. "But I would ask how can the dead even give birth?" She drew back, met Jaina's eyes. "You do understand that you are dead? You've been here for months, everyone knows you are gone. Where else could you be, if you are not swinging the Sword of the Jedi at the enemies of the Light?"

Jaina did manage to cough out a small laugh at that. “You forget that I’ve seen you in action,” she began quoting what she’d heard Jacen say, “Everything I tell you is a lie. Every question I ask is a trick. You will find no truth in me.”

It took every bit of Jaina’s energy to get the words out. “But, hey, if I’m dead then you’re in Hell with me… for all eternity.”

She settled to her hind legs again.

"Hell is a point of view, Sword of the Jedi."

Her eyes lidded.

"In your death you have left a son."

She pivoted on one foot, and twirled away.

"Your brother, when Jacen died, he became so much more."

Vergere leaned over her own shoulder to look back.

"Caedus. And then Lumiya anointed him Darth."

A pirouette. "What shall we name you? And who shall make you Darth?"

Don't listen to him, Jaina.

It was Jacen's voice.

She tried to shake her head, but probably didn’t. This was a time that she definitely didn't need, or want, Jacen’s interference.

A few beads of sweat, or tears, trailed down her face. It was unimaginable since she was quite dehydrated at this point.

Jaina finally spoke out, her teeth clenched, “you don’t get to name me! I embraced darkness long ago, in another war.”

Jaina closed her eyes and used the pain and agony to give herself enough strength to speak her mind. When her eyes opened, and her statement was disembodied, “I am an avatar of the Goddess Yun-Harla!”

Her mouth moved when she spoke again, “you may call me Goddess.”

She used that statement to push back against the Embrace. Release me, now!

No, Jaina, don't!

Jacen again.

Vergere chuckled, took a step back, her beak not moving as the sibilant noise echoed out.

"Darth Harla, it has a ring to it, but I think not," she said with some amusement. "You seem to have a misunderstanding of what I did to your brother..." another pivot and pirouette. "Did you think Darth Caedus was your brother's truth?"

She sounded so sad. "Don't you have any faith in your own twin?"

The Force had no impact upon the Embrace, it did not care for her power in that spectrum.

Jaina closed her eyes and searched for the bond she had shared with Jacen long ago. It had been silent practically since his time with Vergere, and she still wasn’t really sure that he could be trusted..

I need you to not interfere, Jacen. You don’t understand the stakes… they have my child.

She choked back a dry sob, and she arched her back to push through the pain. Her body had been brutally punished by the Embrace… the endless torture was starting to affect her mental state. Her joints were so damaged that she worried she might never walk again. Then Jaina began to have terrifying thoughts that she might truly be dead.

“What did you do with my baby?” Jaina demanded. “I already embraced the Darkness, but you’d rather torture me than talk.”

Speaking was painful, breathing was an effort, but she had to try. Giving up wasn’t an option.

“You’ll get no cooperation from me until I get answers.”

Vergere snorted. "The dead don't get to demand anything."

She regarded the woman, and Jaina would have a clear sense that she was searching her twin bond; searching with the Force.

"Really," she huffed. "The Force? Far too dangerous to be left in the hands of a child. I guess as you've embraced the Darkness, all I need do is take it away from you... with Light."

“If you’ve harmed my baby,” Jaina struggled hard with the Embrace for it to allow her to speak. Her voice was gravely, and almost gone. “I will kill you,” she spat.

A flicker of her clawed hand, and a supernova exploded within Jaina's brain, driving her into unconsciousness, without answers, without life, without... hope.

In a heartbeat she was gone.

Was this death?

It felt like someone cut a power cable, except it was on her life.

’I failed, Aunt Mara… protect my son, if he lives.’

Tag: @Sinrebirth

 

Combo with @Sinrebirth, thank you for allowing me to try and fill the boots of these powerful women!

IC: Daala, Darth Krayt, and Remal
Megador - the brig
She was used to being alone in this galaxy.

Natasi felt alone now. Or was it another now? The one where she had been left in the midst of devastation?

Someone had comforted her when she needed it. The kind words, and then the reassuring touch of holding her hand, it made a difference. In the scheme of things, it only amounted to crumbs, but that was enough to give Natasi the will to be strong and to carry on.

Once she thought she had awakened, but maybe not because she was in the brig. It was hard to accept that after all of her years of service she didn’t rate the medbay?
Maybe that was a dream too.

The nuns had been a mixed bag. Some were nurturing and took exceptional care with her. Others were cruel, but their actions would prepare her for events later in life. So, overall things weren’t that bad.

Except, her neck ached. Daala wanted to stretch the muscles, anything to just ease the pain, but she couldn’t move.

Something had happened? Shouldn’t she be —working? Her memories were better than… what exactly was it that she had been doing? Maybe she’d just stay here.

"Admiral?" It was Remal's voice, he sounded hopeful. "Are you conscious?"

Said consciousness would reveal that she was bound, by arms and legs and even neck, which wasn't actually the cause of the pain in her neck.

"Or is it..." His voice was almost heartbroken, now. "Someone else I'm talking to?"

Speak up, my love, came the voice of Liegeus.

She heard him, but he sounded far away. “No, you’re gone,” she whispered. “It was the Moffs…” Natasi slipped back into the memory of the nuns. She was such a good student and knew the value of education.

This was a safer place. It was way before she loved Liegeus Vorn, and before they killed him. If I stay in the past, he’s alive… and safe.

Daala groaned softly from the pain.

There was a commotion. Remal ordered the cell opened, a guard disagreed, and it became a matter of shouting.

From the shadows of her cell, though, emerged a shadow with an eye of blue and an eye of molten yellow.

In his hand was a lightsaber.

"If you are not Daala, I will kill you."

You are my Natasi, you can do this.

“I don’t know who the hell else you think I am,” Daala grumbled. “Don’t think for a minute that I’m not furious that I’m in the brig instead of getting medical care in the medbay. I’m being treated like a prisoner!”

She wanted to be taken to the Chimaera, but there didn’t seem to be anyone who she could tell. Where was Remal? And Graul?

“I will have all of you court martialed for this insubordination.” The outburst was exhausting. How long have I been restrained? Natasi wondered.

He paused, staring at her for a long moment. "Fine."

A gesture of his hand, and the door to the brig ripped open.

Remal was in the middle of a fisticuffs with four other guards, and the sudden light revealed the man besides her as Darth Krayt.

"She's not Abeloth."

Remal stood, dusted himself down, and glowered at the Remnant guards. "Ma'am?"

Snap-hiss.

A crimson blade appeared in the Sith Lord's hand, and just as quickly whipped apart the manacles and was switched off.

She rolled to her side and slowly sat up. “How long have I been here?” She asked again. “Remal I need an update on what I’ve missed,” she said without looking away from Darth Krayt.

Her memories weren’t clear, she had been with Aryan, and they were going over their situation, which wasn’t ideal. She remembered that much, and then after that there was pain.

“Abeloth?” Daala whispered, “she was here! What happened?” She desperately needed answers to what had happened.

Krayt pursed his tattooed lips. "She was, and she now is not. You were injected with an overdose of refrain; a memory drug. Abeloth hasn't appeared out of your memories since... but Lyz Graul has been unconscious since."

"Injected by Aryan Graul," Remal supplied, unhappily. "But that was six months ago, Natasi, um, Admiral. We've been trapped in the Jakku system since then, our ships protected inside the Megador." He indicated her comlink. "We weren't able to communicate with anyone, until, well, now."

Daala gripped her upper arms and shuddered, “you’re positive she’s gone?” She asked Krayt.

She’d seen the destruction that Abeloth was capable of, and she didn’t want to be anywhere near her.

“Hold on,” she suddenly said to Remal, looking shocked. “Six months? You’re saying six months have passed and we are still basically being held hostage in the same location?”

She shook her head in disbelief that so much time had passed and nothing had been done about it. “Where is Graul?” Daala demanded.

Krayt shook his head. "Not positive, no. But as you're awake, and Lyz Graul isn't." He turned to go. "I'm worried that Abeloth is in her."

Remal scowled at the insinuation in her tone but schooled his features to military neutrality. "We were kept under tractor lock and gravitics locked the fleet aboard the Megador. The Tho Yor reoriented all the combined fleets so the planet backs to them, and then they deployed a whole minefield around the planet and moon, using the wreckage of capital ships as fuel and fodder."

He swallowed, and Krayt replied. "Graul has been a hermit; locked up in his room with a Holocron belonging to Sistros, a Sage of Dwartii - an order that predates the Jedi and Sith, so basically Celestial era." He sniffed. "Presumably Graul believes he can find a solution in the past to our present."

"Can I go?" Krayt said, evenly. "I'd rather kill Lyz Graul before Abeloth takes her fully, if she has moved over."

Daala shakily stood and answered, “no! You will not kill Lyz Graul,” she insisted. “There has got to be some way around that, so figure it out.” She waved Krayt away, not caring for a moment that he was a Sith Lord, he cannot take over and kill anyone he wants like it’s his ship.

Aryan wasn’t here to defend his wife, which had left Natasi to take charge. “Get someone to speak to Aryan and make sure his feelings on this matter are respected.”

Then she looked over at Remal and gave a slight smile, “thank you for handling things while I was a prisoner. In the future, you have my permission to shoot anyone who locks me up instead of putting me in the medbay.”

Krayt sniffed. "While you figure it out, I shall watch over her. But if she is Abeloth, she may be already dead." His mismatched eyes took in Daala, ignoring the obvious that she wasn't dead, and he skulked off.

Remal nodded. "Poinard has headed to the Chancellor's room already."

He did look apologetic, but accepted her smile and returned it. "I shall remember for future reference, ma'am." He turned to an adjunct droid and took her uniform off it, indicating her orange prison scrubs. "I'll be outside and ready for you, Admiral."

He shooed off the growing crowd of guards and droids and shut the door, leaving it slightly ajar so she knew it wasn't locked.

Natasi watched Remal leave, and slowly exhaled a breath she hadn’t realized that she’d been holding.

First she sat down on the side of the cot to gather her thoughts, how had she been out of commission for six months she wondered in disbelief? Another side of her took in the scene and experienced a moment of almost pleasurable fear.

Work first, the rest would come later. Natasi stood and removed the orange scrubs. The door being ajar wasn’t an issue for her, true modesty wasn’t an antiquated notion of women always being fully clothed from neck to toe. True modesty was collecting great achievements, and never speaking of them. Be proud of yourself, but do it in silence.

She dressed carefully, in silence, and it was a healing experience for her soul. Waking up here in the rough orange scrubs had been a humiliation, and she would not forget who had done this to her.

Lacking a comb, she used her fingers to detangle her copper hair before tightly braiding it. Someone, likely Remal, had thoughtfully tucked her hair pins into a pocket of her coat.

Feeling whole again, she opened the door and spoke, “I’m ready, Remal. It’s time to take charge of this impasse.”

Tag: @Sinrebirth @HanSolo29

 

IC: Captain Phasma
Aboard the Indefatigable, in orbit above Starkiller Base

It had been six months since the First Order had secured a wave of infiltrators. It wasn’t the first, nor last, that Captain Phasma had intercepted.

However, it was not the most important.

This one was more than most of them.

It was the last Agent.

The program had been destroyed on Coruscant, along with the brainchild of the project, Dr Gast. They had lost the original specimen too, the corpse of an eldritch abomination named Abeloth.

Which meant that this Agent was key.

To the secrets of genetic essence transfer… coding ones DNA to another, constructing a personality from blood rather than a Force spirit.

Phasma spoke to him as he woke, attached to metal restraints, medical cables, blood tubes and more besides. The First Order’s decimated science division intended to continue the project after all.

“Did you know, your creation is based upon notes that the First Order dug out from the wreckage of Exegol,” Phasma said lightly, still helmeted, but content in her beskar armour, shined to match her old chromium attire.

“The Emperor had many ideas that he didn’t manage to master before Snoke sabotaged his clone tanks…” She said lightly. “The First Order picked at the successes of the Final Order, its unfinished legacies.”

She spoke on. “Apparently Palpatine only needed a medium to complete the process. He had debated visiting the Maw himself, once upon a time.” Phasma stepped towards the mounted wall. “But here we are; you’re the new medium. Congratulations.”

She indicated the ceiling. “Your own special prison, aboard the Indefatigable, our last of her class.” Amusement. “Just like me, the last of my tribe.”



“Just like you; the last of your kind.”

But the Agent wasn’t alone; he’d be able to see someone just as surprised to see him. Vydra.

TAG: @AgentViper007 (single for the moment)