Star Wars Endgame: Finale, Chapter Three

CHAPTER THREE

--Takodana--

    Jast Kyjar grunted to himself as he chewed endlessly on his piece of gornt meat. He wanted to spit it out but knew that would earn some strange looks from the other denizens in the castle. As such, he tried to wash it down with his glass of andoan wine, but it proved to be of little use.

    As he continued to work on the tough meat, he looked around the castle of the legendary Maz Kanata. Beings of assorted races were huddled together, enjoying themselves; in one corner, a trio of insectoids sat over a game of Deia's Dream while a Houk arm-wrestled a Dowutin. In another, a crimson-clad humanoid spoke with its Gabdorin companion while a pair of drunk Twi'leks laughed and sang together.

    Jast had to admit, out of all the cantinas, clubs, and other sort of places he had visited, this had to be one of the more welcoming ones. In the three days he had spent here, he had yet to see a violent brawl break out. From what he had heard, Maz Kanata was adamant about maintaining a peaceful environment.

    However, for all the talk he heard about her, Jast had yet to see any sight of Maz herself. When he arrived on Takodana with the rest of the Wild Karrde crew, the captain himself had left to see out Maz, claiming her to be an old friend. So far, three days had gone by with little to no sign of either Talon Karrde or Maz Kanata. Either those two ere taking their own sweet time in reconnecting, or something sinister was afoot. Naturally, he couldn't be bothered to investigate either way.

    After spending nearly fifteen minutes trying to devour the now-tasteless chunk of meat, Jast couldn't take it anymore and got up from his table, heading off to find something in which to spit out the meat. He got no further than two feet when he ran into someone he had no desire to see today -- or any day, for that matter.

    "Hey, buddy! How's it goin'?"

    Jast closed his eyes and mentally counted to ten. From day one he had regretted the fact of publicly announcing his desire to join the Smugglers' Alliance to his friends three years ago; if he hadn't, perhaps the Rybet who called himself Cyclops wouldn't have joined as well.

    Taking in a deep breath and still not turning to face the frog-like being, Jast said, "Goin' okay, Cy."

    "You sound like you have food in your mouth."

    "That's 'cos I do."

    "Why not just swallow it?"

    "Because gornt meat isn't easy to digest whole."

    "Then just spit it out."

    "That was my plan until you showed up."

    "Oh." Cyclops fell silent and for a brief moment Jast hoped he had left. Then the Rybet spoke again, shattering his hopes. "I have a message to deliver."

    "From who?"

    "Talon Karrde."

    That was enough to get Jast to turn around, staring at Cyclops in surprise. "Talon Karrde?"

    "Yup. He wants everyone to meet him in Maz's chamber." Cyclops suddenly looked upset. "Except me, though. He told me to wait out here with these losers."

    Jast ignored the Rybet and spat out the piece of meat, eliciting a dirty look from the Artiodac cook passing by. "Can you take me there?"

    Cyclops shook his head. "I'm not allowed anywhere near there; that's how bad they don't want me. Yalnis is in charge of directing people."

    Without another word, Jast walked past Cyclops and set out to find Yalnis, his heart beating in anticipation of what was to come -- whatever it was.

*  *  *

    "Whoever this Darth Taral is, he's a very influential being."

    Seven figures stood at a rotund table, which displayed a holographic map of the galaxy. Around them, a crowd of assorted smugglers, pirates, and mercenaries watched as they deliberated.

    "From what my contacts had pieced together, he has the Imperial Remnant and the Mandalorians all on his paycheck," Talon Karrde was saying, his aged, bearded face studying the map. "The Hutts are also on his side as was Black Sun before they were eliminated."

    "One of my spies reported that some individuals in the Galactic Alliance are also acting as his puppets," said Eshka Dan'yar. "None of the information is reliable enough to trust however."

    "So what's this all about?" asked Booster Terrik, the only seated individual due to his advanced age. "What's this guy planning?"

    "From what we can gather, Taral is trying to put a new order into place," said a hooded man, whom none of the others knew so well. "So far he's taken out all of the major heads -- Chief Eerin of the Alliance, Moff Verradun of the Empire, and so forth -- and replaced them with people he can easily manipulate."

    "You mean people like the new Chief of State are just his puppets?" Karrde asked.

    The man nodded. "Luewet Wuul may have a strong track record as a senator, but being thrust into a position as high as Chief of State so suddenly will have left him vulnerable. And, while as far as anyone knows no one has succeeded Verradun, the Moff Council are likely already on board with Taral's plan."

    "So who can we even trust?" asked a Duros spacer from the audience. "Sounds to me that everyone is on the Sith's payroll."

    "I've been working on gathering those whom we can trust," the man said. "General Hawk, for one, I know to be against the direction the Alliance is headed in. I've put him in charge of forming a military force to strike back against Taral's movement, since we all know the Senate isn't going to do anything."

    "What about the Jedi?" The question came from Maz Kanata herself, who stared at the hooded man through her wide-lens goggles. "Are they lending a hand as well?"

    The man did not look at her when he replied. "I'll be seeing them soon about that."

    Karrde nodded. "Then that just leaves us. Maz here has agreed to let us use this castle as our base of operations."

    "Only on the condition that you leave immediately once this is all over," Maz said firmly. "Or if the enemy attacks my place, provided we all survive such a scenario."

    "Understood. During our stay, we shall try to accumulate as much data we can to use against the enemy, as well as provide assistance to those who need it. It's time for us smugglers to stop caring for ourselves and start aiding others. If you can't do that, then the door's wide open for you."

    At that, a few spacers slunk out of the crowd and exited the room. The rest stood firmly in place.

    "All right then." Karrde hit a panel on the table and the hologram vanished. "Let's get to work."

*  *  *

    "It's done," Toah Jarsan said over his comlink as he left the chamber. "The Smugglers' Alliance is on our side."

    "Good," Atha Prime replied on the other end, his voice sounding weak. "What's next on the agenda?"

    Toah frowned in concern. "Are you all right, Atha? You don't sound like yourself."

    "I'm fine," the scientist said in a tone that left no room for argument. "What's next?"

    Deciding to save the subject for another time, Toah said, "I'm heading for Ossus next, to speak with the Jedi Council."

    "You don't sound enthusiastic about it."

    Toah sighed. "It's... hard to explain. You probably wouldn't understand."

    "I suppose. Call me when you're finished there."

    "Right. Toah, out." As he turned off the comlink, Toah turned around to see an old, orange-skinned alien woman standing in front of him, brown eyes studying him behind the lenses of her goggles.

    "You seem lost, wanderer," Maz Kanata said.

    "Not at all," Toah said. "This castle isn't too difficult to navigate."

    Maz tilted her head. "You know that's not what I mean."

    Toah held back a sigh, looking away from the old pirate. "What would you know?" he asked softly. "You know nothing about me. I don't think I've even told you my name."

    "Maybe so." Maz adjusted her lenses, making her eyes appear disproportionately large. "However, I have lived long enough to see the same eyes in different people. When I see your eyes, I see someone lost; someone trying to find himself -- to find his destiny."

    "What makes you think I even have a destiny?" Toah said bitterly. "Why must everyone have a destiny? No one in this galaxy is born special -- unless you had a virgin birth, then everyone hails you as a prophesied hero."

    "Everyone has a destiny. It needn't be extraordinary or anything. But you, I can tell, are destined for great things."

    Toah shook his head. "You have the wrong guy. If you're looking for a special hero, ask someone else."

    With that, he quickly strode past Maz, leaving the pirate behind -- and stars knew what else.

Star Wars Endgame: Finale, Chapter Two

CHAPTER TWO

--Jedi Temple, Ossus--

    The twin suns of Ossus had barely risen and yet Jaden Korr was already awake. It had been months since he had a decent amount of sleep, without any sort of nightmare.

    It was the same one every night: him being in that cave on Abeloth's planet, standing before an apparition of Darth Vorath, removing the Dark Lord's helmet... and finding his own.

    To this day, he had no idea what to make of it. Was he related to Vorath somehow? Was he a clone, a descendant, or something else? Or was it one of those stupid metaphorical things Master Skywalker would go on about back in the day?

    Either way, he had yet to find clarification. So far the only people he had confided in with this revelation had been Master Taana Di, Natia Dorn, and his own master Kyle Katarn -- and so far, none of their advice to him had been helpful. As much as he appreciated it, he still didn't think they could help given that they had never dealt with a similar situation.

    If only Luke Skywalker was still alive, or the man who had once called himself Nemesis hadn't left Ossus for parts unknown two years ago. Perhaps he could've asked them how they dealt with their connection to Darth Vader.

    As he pondered on this, wandering through the Jedi Temple, he found himself in the Ood Bnar Gardens, populated by fluorescent-colored birds. Up ahead, he could see a dark-haired man standing before a statue erected in honor of Luke Skywalker, who had fallen years ago to Vorath. The man's right arm ended in a stump and was suspended by a sling, something which he owed to his former apprentice.

    As Jaden approached Relin Druur, the old Jedi spoke without looking at him. "I see why you hold this man in great respect."

    "Done your reading, have you?" Jaden asked.

    "Yes. Rather impressive for someone so young to accomplish so much."

    "He didn't do it alone. If it hadn't been for Jedi such as Master Baran or Master Sadoon still being around, the order would be nowhere near as large as it is now."

    "And yet it is still small compared to the order of my time." Relin fell silent for a moment before finally looking at Jaden. "Something troubles you, Jedi Korr. What brings you here?"

    Jaden hesitated to answer. Relin, of course, would be unlikely to understand his present dilemma. While he had certainly must have heard of Vorath from the records Master Tionne had given him, he did not know the Dark Lord like others such as Toah Jarsan did. He did not know the true extent of the impact Vorath and his Sith had left on the galaxy.

    Choosing his words carefully, Jaden said, "Here's some food for thought. Let's say there's this ill-reputed person out there in the galaxy. You might not know him, but you've heard the stories about him: killed some people, destroyed a few cities, the works.

    "Then, one day you find out this guy is someone closely related to you -- like, say, a father or a brother or even a son. How would you deal with this?"

    Relin thought about this for a moment, his sunken dark eyes staring into the distance. Finally, he said, "I suppose it depends on how much I would want to let it affect me. Does this person know of this relation as well? Would he try to damage my reputation by bringing our relationship to light?"

    "Well... let's say this person is also dead. And everyone in the galaxy utterly hates him. And you do as well, for good reason. How would you handle it, on a personal level?"

    Relin looked at Jaden, a knowing look in his stone gaze. "That, I believe, is something you must answer for yourself."

    Jaden sighed, nodding in spite of himself. "Right. I guess that makes sense. Thank you for your time, Master Druur."

    "Please, just call me Relin." The old Jedi frowned as he looked back at the Skywalker statue. "In a galaxy which I no longer understand, I feel that I am little more than another student."

*  *  *

    Anakin Solo uttered a word he had learned from his father as his hydrospanner got caught in the undercarriage of the fighter he was repairing. As he struggled to free it from the cavity, he heard booted footsteps approaching him. Rolling out from under the ship, he saw Zarin Kal standing before him.

    "Zarin?" Anakin said, surprised to see the Kiffar Jedi. "What are you doing up so early?"

    "I should be asking you the same," Zarin said. "Are you that attached to your machines?"

    Anakin shrugged as he gave the spanner another tug. "Just something that runs in the family, I guess. So why are you up?"

    Zarin scowled to himself, folding his arms as he started pacing. "Something doesn't feel right. I think we're being deceived."

    "What are you talking about?"

    Zarin looked back at him, fixing him with a stern gaze. "What I'm about to say to you is strictly between you and me. Understood?"

    Anakin nodded firmly.

    Zarin took in a breath and let it out before continuing. "I was speaking with Master Murk the other day, about this whole business with this new Sith Lord running around. It's been nearly six months and the Council still hasn't reached a decision on how to deal with him.

    "Anyway, while I was speaking with him, he started acting a bit... shifty. Like, vague and cryptic."

    "Aren't all Jedi Masters like that?" Anakin said wryly.

    "Well, yeah. But there was something else about him; I sensed something... cold... and dark about him."

    Anakin frowned. "You're not suggesting that...?"

    "I'm just telling you what I saw in him," Zarin said hastily. "I'm not going around accusing people of being Sith. I'm just...." He let out a sigh as he pinched his nose. "Look, forget I said anything. Maybe I'm just getting ahead of myself. Sorry for bothering you."

    With those words, Zarin quickly strode away, leaving Anakin alone with his fighter. He rolled back under and gave the hydrospanner one last tug. It finally came free and a stream of oil poured onto his face, prompting another string of colorful vocabulary.

*  *  *

    Natia Dorn woke up screaming.

    Her body was drenched with sweat, still shaking from the horrible dream she had had.

    She had seen the Jedi Temple on fire. She had heard Jedi screaming. She had felt cold, despite the heat of the flames surrounding her. Then she had seen, at the center of it all, a man in a black mask, crimson blade cutting down her master, her friends. Then she awoke.

    As she tried to calm herself, tried to find peace in the Force, she heard footsteps coming down the hall. A knock sounded at her door.

    "Natia?" she heard her master, Taana Di, call out. "Are you all right?"

    "Yes," she lied, her voice coming out as a croak. Evidently Taana did not believe her, for the door opened and the Togruta woman rushed inside, with fellow Jedi Nira Maren and Odan Murk behind her.

    "We felt your distress though the Force," Taana said, kneeling at her apprentice's bedside and placing a reassuring hand on Natia's shoulder. "Is everything all right?"

    Natia realized she was still trembling and she took in a shuddering breath. "I... I had a dream, although it... it felt more like a vision."

    "What did you see?" Taana asked.

    Natia described it to her as best as she could remember. When she was finished, all three masters exchanged concerned looks.

    "This might be worth looking into," Nira suggested. "Given recent events -- from the Dark Jedi Jaden Korr has encountered to this Sith calling himself Darth Taral -- this may very well be a likely future event."

    "Are we really going to give that much credit to a Padawan's nightmare?" Odan asked. "What if it turns out to be nothing more than just that?"

    "We can't afford to take any chances, Master Murk," Taana said. "We would be remiss to repeat the mistakes of Jedi before us."

    Turning back to Natia, Taana gently pushed the young girl back down onto her bed.

    "Rest now, Natia. Everything will be okay."

Star Wars Endgame: Finale, Chapter One

PART I: GATHERING

----------------------------------

CHAPTER ONE

--Coruscant--

    "Just one more -- another for the airways."

    The old man running the bar frowned at the nearly passed-out drunk he was serving. "I think you've had enough."

    Wallen Nix let out a harsh laugh. "There aren't enough drinks in the galaxy to be 'enough' for me. Give me all the wine on Kattada and it still wouldn't be 'enough.'"

    The barkeep brought out a wet cloth and started wiping down the counter. "Your girl leave you or something?"

    "No. Nothing like that. Worse than that. Try your life's work being for naught."

    "Lost your job?"

    "Nope. That would actually be a blessing." Wallen rubbed his forehead, starting to feel the effects of his drinking. "I don't think I can make it another fifteen years to get to retirement age. How many lies will I have to suffer to get there?"

    The barkeep shrugged. "I dunno what to tell ya, pal. Just grin and bear it until it's over. Now if you wouldn't mind leavin', I need to close up here soon."

    "That time already?" Wallen looked up at the chronometer on the wall but his vision was too blurry to make any numbers out. "Feels like I just got here."

    "You've been here pretty much all day. You need help gettin' home?"

    "No, I'm fine." As he said this, Wallen got off his stool and immediately tripped, falling flat on his face. As he struggled to get up, he heard the sound of the door hissing open.

    "Sorry, pal," the barkeep said to the newcomer, whom Wallen could barely make out. "We're closing in a few."

    "No worries, I'm just here to pick up a... ah, there you are."

    Wallen could have sworn he recognized that voice but had difficulty putting his finger on it -- or moving any part of his body, for that matter.

    "You're friends with this guy?" he heard the barkeep ask.

    "You could say that. Come on, old buddy." Wallen felt himself being picked up by the stranger before being dragged out of the bar. "It's time to go home."

    For a brief instant, everything clicked and Wallen knew who had come to his aid. Before he could muster a statement, his brain performed a backflip, failed, and he blacked out.

*  *  *

    In Shadow's opinion, his talents were being wasted.

    Granted, he couldn't think of an alternative at present, but he nonetheless found it strange that Toah had sent him on this particular mission. He had no idea who this 'Hawk' person was or why they needed a message delivered to them so urgently, but Shadow knew questioning Toah would have been futile.

    As he quietly scaled alongside the building under the shroud of night, Shadow performed another sweep for security devices and alarms, disabling them temporarily via remote. He finally reached the opaque window of his destination and did an extra sweep before proceeding with the operation.

    Peering through the window with his night-vision enhanced visor, Shadow could see that the man known as Hawk was asleep in his quarters. While no security was immediately present, Shadow figured they were cleverly cloaked or there was at least one or two guards outside the door. He had to play this carefully; he was here to gain Hawk's trust, not a blaster bolt to the face.

    He finished his ascent up the complex and reached the rooftop. Breaking through a locked door that led inside, Shadow silently descended the staircase and onto the uppermost floor, where he found a guard on patrol. Before the guard even noticed him, Shadow fired a dart from his wrist, knocking the man out cold. Shadow then studied the man's features and adopted them himself before continuing his way to Hawk's quarters.

    When he reached the room, two guards were standing outside. One of them nodded curtly to Shadow.

    "Braxon," the hard-faced woman said. "Delivering another message for the general?"

    "Um, yes," Shadow said. "I hate to disturb him, but...."

    "Ah, I'm sure he's used to it by now," the other guard, a scarred man, said. "I had to deliver ten messages to him last night. I'm not sure he got a wink of sleep then."

    "Yes, very unfortunate." Shadow stepped towards the door but stopped before opening it. "Um... this room is sound-proofed, right?"

    "The night getting to you, son?" the first guard said, snorting. "The general's room is always sound-proofed. You know how he is."

    "Right. Just making sure."

    Shadow then entered the room. Once the door had closed behind him, he reverted to his natural form and stepped towards the sleeping form of Hawk. He prodded the general's bare shoulder.

    "Good evening, general."

    Hawk shot up only to be pushed back down. Shadow pinned both of his arms to prevent him from summoning his guards.

    "I'm not here to hurt you," Shadow said quietly. "If that were my intent, we would not be speaking."

    "Go to blazes, Glorian," Hawk spat at him.

    Shadow ignored the remark and went on. "I trust you are familiar with the name Toah Jarsan."

    Still glowering at Shadow, Hawk said, "You mean the kid who defeated Vorath all those years ago? I don't know him but I've heard about him."

    "Well, it should interest you to know that he requires your assistance. However, bear in mind that what he's asking of you is likely to break a few laws and might get you on the Alliance's hitlist."

    Hawk snorted. "With the way things are now, I'm surprised I'm not already dead. What does Jarsan want?"

    "Things are falling into place. The enemy is making their move. A resistance must be formed to defend against the oncoming storm."

    "And Toah wants me to lead this resistance?"

    "He told me he could think of no better man." Shadow released Hawk and reached into his cloak, producing a datapad. "The details of his plan are on here. He expects to see you on D'Qar in a month's time... that is, if you're up to it."

    Hawk seemed to mull over the proposal for a moment. He then met Shadow's gaze and said, "Tell him I'll do it. Whatever must be done, I'll do it."

    "Glad to hear it." Stepping away from Hawk, Shadow morphed back into the form of Braxon. "I look forward to meeting you again."

    Hawk scoffed. "I'm not."

    With a smirk, Shadow opened the door and left the general's quarters. When he stepped outside, he saw the two guards glaring at him... and the original Braxon staring at him dumbstruck.

    The first thing Shadow did was curse the Toydarian dealer who had sold him the tranq-darts. He then gave a half-hearted salute.

    "Pleasure doing business with you," he said before morphing into a scurrier and running off.

*  *  *

    The man known as Atha Prime stood hunched over a desk covered in datapads and pieces of flimsiplast. He cradled his helmeted head in his hands, his head throbbing in pain.

    I am Mammon Hoole.

   This had been his mantra for the past few hours, in an attempt to ward off the unwanted voices entering his head.

    We are Valorum.

   I am Mammon Hoole.

    We are Aron Jarsan.

    I am Mammon Hoole.

    We are--

    "Atha Prime?"

    He snapped out of his trance and turned to the open comlink on his desk. Picking it up, he spoke into it, his voice hoarse. "Toah. What is it?"

    "Shadow and Xemer just got back to me. Their tasks are already underway. How goes the progress of yours?"

    "I...." Atha Prime looked back at the mess that was his project, struggling to make sense of it. "I'm going to need a bit more time."

    "Okay," Toah said. "Just know it needs to be done soon. Time is of the essence."

    "Right," Atha said as he ended the call. "It certainly is."

    I am Mammon Hoole, he told himself one last time.

    Not for long, was their reply.

Star Wars Endgame: Finale, Prologue

Yep. It's happening. I'm gonna do my best to make this big and go out with a bang. Here we go.

STAR WARS ENDGAME

Finale: The Final Destiny

   Timeline: 41 ABY (six months after Volume VI)

PROLOGUE

--The Vanguard--

    The world of Jakku was as remote as planets got. Boasting a population that even Tatooine outmatched, Jakku had very few settlements, with most of its population being concentrated in one or two towns. Save for one encounter during the last days of the Galactic Civil War, it had been generally overlooked by the galactic powers.

    As he observed the world from the command bridge of his Star Destroyer, Admiral Vin Borgas wondered why he was here; why had he been sent to this remote system on the orders of his superiors? It was of little worth to the Imperial Remnant and largely forgotten by even those who had been there at the battle.

    Unfortunately, he was in no position to question orders, lest he incur the wrath of the man standing next to him.

    Turning to one of the bridge officers, Borgas asked, "Has Lord Scorpius' shuttle been prepared?"

   "Yes, sir. Shuttle Upsilon is ready in hanger 55B."

    Borgas glanced at the man standing next to him. Clad in black armor and with a cybernetic cover over the right side of his face, Rion Scorpius fit the stories Borgas had heard of Darth Vader when he was a cadet in the Imperial military, having never met the Dark Lord himself. He wondered if his uncle, who had served Vader personally, felt as intimidated as he did now.

    Scorpius was silent for a moment as he stared emotionless at Jakku. Finally, he turned on his heel and headed down the bridge, without even a word to the admiral. As soon as he was gone, Borgas allowed a quiet sigh to pass through his lips.

    Why did it have to be Sith?

--Jakku--

    Night on Jakku was quiet, for the most part. When Unkar Plutt's thugs weren't breaking into others' places of residence and causing shootouts on the streets, it could almost be called peaceful.

    But Zarmach felt anything but peace. How could he, knowing what was to come?

    The news Lysira had brought back after tracking down her apprentice had confirmed what they had all feared: one of their students had gone astray and was repeating mistakes of the past. They had traced his activities to a lair on Ziost, only to find it abandoned, and by then they had all seen his broadcast to the galaxy.

    None of them knew what endgame this Darth Taral was pushing towards, but it could be anything but good.

    Zarmach felt a familiar ripple in the Force. His apprentice had arrived.

    Stepping out of his residence, he looked towards the moonlit sky and saw an Imperial shuttle landing upon the desert sand. He wondered if anyone else had noticed its arrival and if Constable Zuvio's militia would be coming to investigate. 

   Or, more likely, they simply found it wiser to keep their hands out of this.

    The shuttle lowered its ramp and a single figure emerged from it. Zarmach almost didn't recognize him with the black mask over half his face, but from the rest of his outfit and the pure hatred in his remaining eye, his identity was unmistakable. 

   After so long, Zarmach had come to view Rion Scorpius as like a son. Evidently, that was not the case vice versa. As his apprentice approached him, Zarmach knew there was no further point in maintaining his fatherly alter ego. It was time to put on a different face.

    "Hello, Scorpius," Lord Acheron said.

    "Hello, master," Scorpius replied, coming to a stop before the Sith Lord. As a Snivvian, Acheron was considerably dwarfed by his student, but that meant nothing to either Sith. "Interesting choice in residence. I had not even heard of this planet until the Imperials informed me."

    "The best hiding places are the ones no one believes to exist," Acheron said evenly.

    Scorpius smirked. "But hiding is not your intent, is it, master? You have summoned me here for a purpose."

    "Indeed I have." Acheron stepped aside and gestured for Scorpius to enter his residence. "Come. Make yourself at home."

    Scorpius complied and stepped into his master's abode. When the door closed, only a few lanterns provided light for the two Sith, casting an orange glow on Lord Acheron as he walked up to his worktable.

    "I'm surprised you actually responded to my call," the Sith Master said as he rolled up the scroll he had been viewing earlier. "The other masters have had difficulty in finding their own apprentices."

    "I'm here only because you have something I want," Scorpius said, nodding to the scroll. "Hand it over."

    "Not yet," Acheron said, turning to face his former pupil. "Not until you tell me why you want it. You've never shown interest in the Sith lore before. Why now?"

    "It is not I that desires it, but my master -- my new master. He requires it for the endgame of his plan."

    "What plan? What is it that your 'master' is trying to accomplish, by toying with both the Alliance and the Empire?"

    Scorpius grinned. "There is a new order coming. One that shall ensure peace and justice for the galaxy."

    Acheron glowered at him. "Peace through tyranny, you mean."

    "How else? Nothing else has worked at this point. The only reason it failed Palpatine was because his apprentice foolishly returned to the light."

    Acheron shook his head. "You sound like so many Sith before you. And why do you think they fell? If the Sith are to be preserved, they must become like the Jedi and stay out of galactic affairs."

    Scorpius sneered. "You're suggesting that the Sith should be weak."

    "Is it weakness to not show one's power? This is where your master has failed: he is theatrical with his power. In the short-term, it may serve him well, yes. But in the long term, he is doomed for failure."

    Scorpius sighed, though Acheron knew it was just for show. "I see. Yet again, you and the other masters underestimate what we are capable of."

    Acheron frowned. "I never underestimated you--"

    He was cut off by the sound of a lightsaber's snap-hiss. A red light merged with the orange in the room.

    "Don't bore me with lies. You knew this was coming."

    "Scorpius... Rion, please." Acheron started to reach for his own weapon, but he knew he would not be quick enough. "I don't want to do this."

    "A pity, because I do."

    Acheron activated his lightsaber and raised it to deflect Scorpius' first attack... but instead of going for his head like he first thought, Scorpius instead sliced his blade through the Snivvian's arm, rendering him defenseless. His mind racing, Acheron attempted to summon Force lightning, but the scarlet blade at his neck told him that his time was up.

    "The new age has begun," Scorpius said. "The First Order is about to begin."

    The former apprentice raised his blade, murder in his eyes.

    "And nothing can stop it."