CHAPTER TEN
"I don't think you should do this, Wedge," Lando said to the Corellian pilot as the two of them walked down the hall leading to Jenssar SoBilles' office. "What's done is done. You can't just fix Bastion."
"It's not Bastion that I'm worried about," Wedge replied. "It's the idea of using this weapon in general. I have a feeling SoBilles will want to use this Decimator on any planet still loyal to the Empire."
"But, Wedge," Lando protested, "there is no Empire. Palpatine was reported dead fourteen years ago, and whoever was leading the Imps on Bastion is surely gone as well."
Wedge stopped in his tracks and sighed. "I know that, Lando, but I can't just sit and watch this Republic become like the old one. I have to make a stand."
Lando threw his hands up in mock surrender. "All right, do what you have to. You've been with the Rebellion longer than I have."
"Thanks, Lando," Wedge said as he entered the Chief of State's office.
Inside, three senators sat at Jenssar's desk. Among them was Borsk Fey'lya, who noticed Wedge entering the room.
"General Antilles," the Bothan said, giving a surprisingly respectful nod. "Congratulations on your successful mission at Bastion. The Empire is now officially no more."
Wedge disregarded the compliment. "Senators, Chief...I'd like to speak with you about the...decimation of Bastion."
Jenssar eyed Wedge carefully. "You don't have a problem with it now, do you, general?"
"Actually, sir, I do," Wedge replied. "What was done to Bastion...how is it different from what the Empire's done? Innocent lives might have been lost!"
Borsk's horse-like face darkened. "Imperials are not innocent, general. What we've done is justice."
Wedge frowned. "No, sir. I hate to disagree, but what we did is not justice. Imperial or not, we could've given them amnesty, or a second chance!"
"It is too late for that," said a Quarren senator. "What's done is done. Now, do you have any further objections before we demote you?"
"Now, now, Pwoe, let's not get ahead of ourselves," Jenssar said. "General Antilles, I understand how you feel. I was also somewhat hesitant to proceed with the attack, but it had to be done, so that we could ensure peace for the galaxy."
Wedge lowered his head. "I...understand. I apologized for questioning you, sirs.:
"Apology accepted, general," Jenssar said kindly. "You are dismissed."
Wedge nodded and headed out the door, but not before briefly glancing at Borsk Fey'lya, who observed him with what almost seemed to be disdain.
* * *
Vorath followed the ghost of Darth Vitus to the ancient Sith Lord's old compound. It was small, rectangular, and made of steel, which had long since turned to dust. Inside the base were various objects, including expired chemicals, dusty equipment, and dead or failed experiments.
But what caught Vorath's eye was a set of black and silver armor, suspended in animation, held within a cylindrical prison. Resting beside it was a long staff, ending with two, parallel blades.
The spirit of Vitus turned to face him. "It is yours," the ghost said.
Vorath approached the armor's cell and waved his hand over its control panel. The cylinder opened and Vorath retrieved a black helmet from it. The helmet seemed to stare at him, its empty eye sockets almost piercing into him. The Dark Lord rose the helmet and slid it over his head. As if on cue, the other pieces of armor suddenly latched onto him, and the staff flew into his hand.
A strange feeling of power filled him, a sense that he had never felt since his fall to the dark side. He rose the staff, twirled it in his hands for a few seconds...then he aimed it at Vitus' spirit.
The deceased Sith spirit's eyes widened and he backed away. "What are you doing?!" he exclaimed. "I gave you the armor of Valtheran! What do you think you're doing?!"
"Just testing it, is all," Vorath muttered as a beam of white energy emitted from the staff. When it made contact with Vitus's spirit, it began to drag the ghost towards the staff. Vitus screamed in terror, but he was quickly silenced when he was absorbed into the staff's bladed tip.
For a long time, Vorath simply stood alone in the compound, admiring his work. Suddenly, a cold voice cackled out from nowhere. Vorath was not startled. He knew who it was.
"Well, you've finally found what you're looking for," the spirit said, the same spirit who had found Jerec and the other Imperial Dark Jedi nearly two decades ago. "Now what? You're Sith are all ready to hold their own against the Jedi. We're ready to make our move!"
"Not yet," Vorath said quietly. "I still need to find Kal-Teraz, the Beast Lord."
"Ah, yes," the spirit murmured. "The Beast Lord. While you were wasting your time with the Tedryn Holocron, I discovered the location of Kal-Teraz's tomb."
"Really?" Vorath replied. "Where? On what planet?"
"One that you may know," the spirit said. "Dromund Kaas."
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