Star Wars: Vergence V, Chapter Eleven

CHAPTER ELEVEN

 Darkknell

Governor Xorn Gavrik fastened the black toupee atop his pale gray head. “How do I look, Janeera?”

His Qiraash aide barely even glanced at him. “Stupendous, Governor.”

The two of them stood on the landing platform of the governor’s building in Xakrea, awaiting the arrival of the Chief of State’s shuttle which had just been spotted entering the system. Gavrik wasn’t sure he had ever been this nervous in his entire life, not even when he had been thrust into the position of governor by his benefactors.

He frankly could not believe he even was in this position. Throughout his life, he had found it difficult to make it anywhere in the ranks of society, counting himself lucky to get even an office job. His family had lived on Darkknell for centuries, but his ancestors first hailed from Heptooine, a world that had been torn apart by famine and barbarism during the last of the Sith Wars. Following the Ruusan Reformations, a number of Heptooinian refugees had been able to relocate to Darkknell after it had been liberated from Sith rule, only to be treated like lower-class citizens even by the other non-human natives of the planet. It had only been thanks to the Clone Wars and his grandfather enlisting in the Confederate Navy that Gavrik’s family had managed to create a foundation for the funds they had now, and Gavrik had only added to his family’s wealth by landing himself a government position five years ago and quickly climbing up the ladder.

Now he was the Governor of Darkknell, practically handed the position despite little to no governing experience—he had only been a finance minister for the previous governor. When the Tandoon Clan had committed their coup against his predecessor, a Yarkora named Adaka-Vanae, they had forced the Parliament to choose him as her successor—not because of his experience but because of his lack thereof. The only other thing that had given him an edge was the fact that he espoused support for the First Order and even had ties with some of their middle-management. His predecessor, for her part, had been largely neutral about the First Order and the ongoing conflict between them and the Resistance, but that wasn’t good enough for the Tandoon Clan, who apparently had a vested interest in the First Order.

To his surprise, governing the city of Xakrea turned out to be easier than he thought it would have been. Granted, the Tandoon Clan had done a lot of the legwork, scaring the people into either silence or barking back the things Gavrik told them. There was already a decent number of supporters for the First Order among the populace, and Gavrik’s public display of executing the two rebel insurgents had done a lot of good in terms of ingratiating himself to the people.

He supposed he had never truly abandoned his people’s barbaric roots. Thankfully, the Tandoon Clan had helped to create an atmosphere where he could embrace that particular side of himself.

As soon as he saw the H-5 executive shuttle appear in the sky of Darkknell, Gavrik straightened and braced himself as the ship made its slow descent onto the landing platform. He felt his heart pound with excitement as the ramp lowered and the Chief of State stepped down with his entourage of armored guards. Tyron Valrisa certainly fit the criteria for what humans considered “handsome,” with his slick black hair and thin beard. His attire consisted of a simple red vest over a brown undershirt, with a gray cape held onto his person with golden clasps. Valrisa walked with purpose, and his expression was stone cold as he approached Governor Gavrik.

Gavrik bowed and he internally winced as he felt his toupee shift slightly. “Welcome to Darknell, Chief Valrisa. We are graced by your presence.”

“I am afraid I do not have time for pleasantries, Governor,” Valrisa said coolly. “You know why I am here.”

Gavrik cleared his throat and nodded. “Of course, sir. Right this way.”

He led Valrisa into the governor’s building and two of them walked in silence through the hallways, followed by their respective entourages. The only sounds that were exchanged were the click-clacks of their boots and Janeera’s high heels. They eventually reached a turbolift and Gavrik signaled Janeera to stay behind while he and the Chief of State took the lift along with two of his guards. The lift took them all the way down to the building’s lowest sub-level and its doors opened to disperse them into the dark room.

The only light came from the glow of the cylindrical vat that was situated in the center of the chamber. Gavrik had no long how long it had been here or why it was here in the first place; it certainly hadn’t been something he had authorized. He had only been made aware of it when the Chief of State asked to meet with him in the first place.

Still, Gavrik knew better than to ask questions as he brought Valrisa to the vat. The human man raised a hand and gently placed it on the cool transparisteel of the central tube filled with bacta water. A tiny hand pressed against his palm from the other side of the glass.

Gavrik allowed a moment of silence to pass before asking, “Will you require assistance in moving the bacta tank to your shuttle?”

“My guards are already well-equipped for the transfer,” Valrisa replied. “You may leave us to our work.”

Gavrik took the hint and returned to the lift, taking it all the way back up to the floor he and the Chief of State had just been on. As he stepped out, the rest of the Chief’s guard entered the lift and took it down to the sub-level. Left alone with his aide, Gavrik turned to Janseera and put on a phony grin.

“What is next on the agenda, my dear?”

Janseera stared at him through half-closed eyelids. “You have a meeting with the finance minister in two hours.”

“Excellent!” Gavrik rubbed a hand over his stomach. “Plenty of time for a quick afternoon snack!”

*  *  *

Rey found it amusing how this was only the second time in about as many days that she had to conceal her face. Rather than a Mandalorian helmet like the one she had worn back on Batuu, she instead wore a set of head wrappings that covered her mouth and the top of her head but kept her hazel eyes exposed. The elaborate headdress, along with the set of dark robes that she wore over her coverall, allowed her to blend with the crowds of Xakrea as a priestess. One of the few laws of Xakrea that were actually enforced were to leave people of faith to themselves and not harass them in any form.

Similarly, Agent Gray had foregone his mask and armor in favor of light gray robes that resembled Jedi attire. This left his face exposed, as unlike Rey’s, his was not known to the Tandoon Clan or the Xakrea government. The two of them walked side by side, posing as members of some unspecified religion, and most people passed by them without giving them a second glance.

Elsewhere in the city, Rey knew that Poe and the others were hiding with disguises of their own, waiting for the signal to be given on when to act. Gray hadn’t exactly been clear to Rey on what their plan was, speaking of it only to Poe and Admiral Horan’s people. Again, this left her frustrated to being left out of the know. As the only Jedi in their group, she felt that she had the right to know, even if she was only a Padawan.

As they passed by a stall selling fruit, the Snivvian vendor held out a piece of jogan fruit and waved it in front of Gray’s face. “Jogan fruit! Only a credit a piece!”

Gray dropped a credichip in the vendor’s hand and accepted the fruit. As he bit into it, Rey gave him a wary look from behind her face wrappings.

“Do we really have time for distractions?” she asked.

“What makes you think this is a distraction?” he replied.

“We’re on a mission.”

“Do the details of the mission preclude me from purchasing and consuming a piece of fruit?”

Rey frowned. “It would help if I knew what those details were.”

“Patience.” Gray finished the fruit and dispensed the non-edible portions in a waste bin. “The governor doesn’t know we’re coming. We have plenty of time.”

Rey eyed him skeptically. “You sound like a Jedi.”

“Do I seem like one to you?”

“I sense the Force in you.”

Gray sighed as he bowed his head, smiling sheepishly. “Yes, I was a Jedi. Long ago, of course. My name back then was Kalen Rusher. Still is, of course, but I’ve been operating under codenames for so long.”

“Why did you leave the Jedi?” Rey asked.

Gray—or Kalen, rather—lifted his head and admired the buildings—tall and short—that were scattered around the streets. “A number of reasons. It started when my apprentice left, deciding to choose a path for herself. Her departure left me feeling like a failure at first… but then it inspired me to choose my own path. I explored the galaxy for a few years, visiting and learning from different Force religions across the galaxy. Then I decided to enlist with the New Republic Intelligence, figuring I could do a lot of good there given the expertise I had found in ingratiating myself to the people of various worlds. That was when the Glorian War broke out. And then Leia recruited me for her resistance.”

“Have you thought about ever returning to the Jedi? When this is all over?”

“If this is all over, you mean.” Kalen paused to peruse some flowers being sold by an elderly Weequay woman. “I have considered it, but only briefly. I am pretty set on my path… especially since I have developed my own view of the Force.”

Rey looked at him in surprise. “You… you can do that?”

Kalen chuckled. “Of course. It’s not just Jedi and Sith, you know. Dark side and light. In fact, that’s what my philosophy argues against. The Force is the Force. There are no sides. It is a force of nature, and it does as it will.”

Rey took in his words, trying to fit them in with what Toah had taught her. “Does that mean….” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “Does that mean you use the dark side?”

Kalen glanced at her. “If the situation calls for it. But I always pray that it does not. The Force in either extreme end of the spectrum can be dangerous.”

“The Jedi have taught me to avoid the dark side at all costs….”

“And I can see where they are coming from. But the Jedi also teach their students to avoid giving in to one’s emotions, which can be a dangerous slope. To ignore your emotions is to ignore a part of you that is vital to who you are as a person. If you are feeling a certain emotion, then it is because the Force is allowing you to feel that emotion.”

Rey stared at him. “Even anger?”

Kalen nodded. “Even anger.”

Rey looked away from him, staring up ahead into the bustling crowds. “I have been feeling… angry recently. Frustrated might be a better word. Toah—my master—keeps trying to discourage me from giving into these feelings, but it… it’s just not that easy. Sometimes I just need to release my energy, you know? Even if it means smashing a training remote….”

She expected Kalen to chuckle at her last remark, but instead his eyebrows furrowed in consternation. “Toah. As in Toah Jarsan?”

“Yes,” she replied. “Surely you’ve heard of him.”

“Of course I have. I was still with the Order when he….” He paused before stopping and turning to face Rey. A Kubaz that had been behind them snorted in annoyance before walking around them.

“How much do you know about your master?” Kalen asked in a hushed tone.

Rey was taken aback by the question. “Well, I’ve only known him for about a year. And I grew up on a planet that got its news from the exaggerated stories of spacers. But I know that he was the one who defeated Darth Vorath and his Sith.”

“Yes, and you know what he did after that?”

Rey shook her head. “No?”

“He left.” Kalen’s expression turned grim. “He left the Jedi and disappeared for nearly ten years. And when he returned, it wasn’t actually him but some clone of his that he found. You want to know how he spent the Glorian War?”

Rey frowned. “Fighting Glorians…?”

Kalen let out a sharp laugh. “No. He hid up on some forgotten Outer Rim world, away from the fighting. It took another Jedi to find him and coax him out of hiding, and even then he only showed up for the big finale. Tell me, does that sound like the Jedi who defeated a Dark Lord of the Sith?”

It did not. But Rey also did not want to believe that anything Kalen was telling her was true. She recalled Toah having alluded to some failings of his in the past, but she had always figured that they had been relatively minor in the greater scheme of things, or that he had some sort of good reason behind them. But while she had never exactly lived through the Glorian War, she had heard about the devastation it had brought and did not believe for one second that Toah would willingly sit out such a destructive conflict.

“Surely he must have had a reason for that,” she murmured.

“If he does, I haven’t heard it,” Kalen said dryly. “And after that he went back to hiding, only to join Leia’s network. I don’t know if he did that of his own accord or if Leia guilted him into coming back. Either way, he hasn’t been half the hero people prop him up to be for a very long time.”

Rey still found it hard to believe. She turned away from Kalen, shaking her head as she tried to wrap her mind around what she had been told and putting it against what she already knew about Toah from her interactions with him and his teachings. The more she thought about it, however, the more in retrospect she started to realize how… half-hearted some of his teachings had been. Almost as if he was reluctant to teach her either because of his lack of confidence in her… or himself. 

Was Toah only training her out of obligation? Because he had found her on Jakku and brought her into the Jedi Order? If he had his way, would he have left her for someone else to train?

As her mind raced with these thoughts, she failed to sense Kalen moving to grab her by the shoulder and shoving her back, causing her to trip on her robes and fall backwards into the Weequay’s flower stall. The elderly woman was completely unfazed by the commotion even as others stopped to stare and watch.

As Rey started to get back up, she watched as Kalen reached behind his back and produce a folded-up staff. He unfolded the staff and ignited two beams of yellow light from either end, spinning them to deflect a blaster bolt aimed straight for his head. Around them, people cried out in panic and started to scatter while Rey scrambled back to her feet, shaking off flowers. She looked to the Weequay, who still had not budged. It took a little push from the Force to get the old woman to slowly get up from her seat and shamble away.

She quickly returned her attention to the situation at hand and saw a tall, chalk-skinned woman emerge from the crowds with a blaster rifle in hand. She lowered her rifle and cast a wicked smile in their direction before springing away into an alleyway.

Reaching into her robes for her own lightsaber, Rey glanced at Kalen. “Tandoon Clan, you think?”

“No,” Kalen muttered. “Worse.”

As if on cue, two more figures emerged from the crowds. Both were clothed in black uniforms and each drew a lightsaber—one red, the other blue. The one carrying the blue blade was a blue-skinned Twi’lek female, while the other was a human male with the golden facial markings of a Kiffar. While she did not recognize the Twi’lek, she was able to put a name to the Kiffar and she said it aloud in a tone of complete incredulity.

“Zarin? What are you doing here?”

Zarin Kal looked at her with a regretful look in his eyes. “I am sorry, Rey.”

He and the Twi’lek then lunged forward, lightsabers raised high. Rey quickly discarded her robe and head wrappings before igniting her lightsaber and raising it just in time to block the fallen Jedi’s attack.

Star Wars: Vergence V, Chapter Ten

CHAPTER TEN

 Arkania

The First Light was the first ship to exit hyperspace into the Perave system and begin its approach towards the planet of Arkania. A harsh world covered in ice, Arkania had largely stayed independent from the New Republic for most of the government’s existence, although the Arkanians did have an embassy in the Core Worlds and were considered members of the greater Galactic Alliance. Even so, the Arkanians had kept mostly to themselves for the past forty years and stayed out of galactic politics. Dani herself had never been to Arkania before, nor had she encountered many Arkanians out in the wild. As far as she knew, those such as Lunara and Sal Tyrius were exceptions rather than the rule.

Under Lunara’s directions, Dani steered the First Light towards an icy tundra that was barren save for a small abode that appeared to be abandoned. There was no sign of any civilization for miles, although Dani could see what appeared to be a city in the mountains off in the distance.

Once the star yacht had settled into place, Dani powered down the vessel before turning to Lunara. “Okay. We’re here. Now how are we going to get the collection down there? I can already tell you that it won’t fit in that small abode.”

“Who says we have to move it?” Lunara asked.

Dani stared at her. “I thought that was the plan.”

“The plan was to deliver the collection to Arkania. Here we are on Arkania. The collection has been delivered.”

“But you told me I could keep the First Light and only had to let you have the collection. How will that work if the stuff stays on the ship?”

“The Curator will address all of your concerns.” Lunara motioned for her to follow her. “He waits for us now.”

Dani eyed the Arkanian woman warily as she followed her through the corridors of the First Light. They stopped only to retrieve heavy clothing to protect themselves from the cold before disembarking from the First Light. As they stepped out into the chilling winds, Dani looked up to see the Errant Venture and the Queen’s Hammer appearing in the sky. She then turned her attention to the small abode, from where a figure clad in a heavy cloak emerged. Their face was fully concealed with protective goggles and a face wrap, but Dani had a feeling she already knew who he was.

“Sal Tyrius, I presume?” she asked.

The figure paused before inclining his head. “Yes, although most call me the Curator.”

“I am aware.” Dani crossed her arms. “If it’s all the same to you, I won’t be respecting your title.”

“Fair enough.” Tyrius seemed to have a lot less energy than Dani was used to seeing from the Arkanian collector. He sounded tired and old, although Dani had always figured him to be younger than she was.

She watched as Lunara moved over to stand at Tyrius’s side, his dutiful assistant as always. Then, she asked the question immediately pressing her mind. “How are you alive? We recovered your body after the incident on Ord Mantell and tossed it into an incinerator.”

Tyrius chuckled. “How unceremonious. You least you could have done was send my ashes home.”

“Answer the question.”

The Curator waved a dismissive hand. “The answer is the same as to how I survived my previous ‘death.’ The Sal Tyrius you encountered was not the same Sal Tyrius that stands before you now. Nor was the one executed two years hence.”

“They were clones, then?”

“Indeed. Clones with my memories imprinted onto them. A process that few have been able to achieve without the unfortunate side effects.”

Dani tilted her head. “I never knew cloning to be an Arkanian thing.”

“Compared to the other things my people are capable of, cloning is child’s play to us.”

“But why? What do you hope to accomplish with clones? You’re just a museum curator who likes to play criminal kingpin.”

“Am I?” Tyrius laughed again, shaking his head. “If that’s all I am to you, then I’ve really sold myself short.”

“Then what are you?” Dani asked. “What exactly is all of this for?”

Tyrius said nothing, instead tilting his head up towards the sky. Dani followed his gaze and saw that each of the two flagships had dispatched a smaller transport, no doubt carrying the captains of the respective ships.

“You’ve brought guests,” Tyrius observed.

“She insisted on it,” Lunara said. “I would have tried to dissuade her from it, but it was the only way I could get her to trust me.”

“Ah, it’s not an issue.” Tyrius then paused before chuckling quietly under his breath. “Quite the opposite, in fact.”

Dani stared at the Curator, already being driven insane by his cryptic remarks. She looked to Lunara in the vain hope that the Arkanian woman would shed some light, but the cold look she got back told her that she would find no such thing from her.

Dani waited there as the Renegade and the shuttle from the Queen’s Hammer landed on the tundra near them. Captain Kishanti disembarked from her ship with her Renegades, along with Cera, Toah Jarsan, and Booster Terrik. Meanwhile, Viira departed from the ship with her assorted crew of pirates; Dani noted that the Twi’lek was no longer wearing the mask of the Pirate Queen and seemed to be glancing furtively in Dani’s direction with a fearful look.

Once everyone had gathered before the Curator, Booster crossed his heavy arms and was the first to speak. “All right, let’s get this over with already. What do you want?”

“All I want are the items on that ship,” Tyrius said, gesturing to the First Light. “I was not expecting to entertain such a large and diverse group of guests, but I will if I must.”

Dani sighed as she turned to face Toah and Booster. “I… have an idea on how to fight the First Order.”

Toah raised an eyebrow in surprise at her. “You do?”

“It’s a long story—one that some of you might already know—but by all accounts, I am a descendant of the House of Solo.”

“Yeah,” muttered Viira. “You’re Han Solo’s bastard or something, right?”

“That, I still haven’t been able to confirm for sure,” Dani admitted. “But the datacron heirloom recognizes me as a blood relative regardless. Which means I have a claim to the throne of Corellia.”

Booster snorted derisively. “There hasn’t been a throne for hundreds of years, kid.”

“But there can be one again. Thrackan has left the Corellian government in shambles; if I were to declare myself Queen and prove my birthright, then it might convince the people to follow me. And the rest of the sector might follow.”

“Sounds like a hell of a gamble. What makes you think it’ll work?”

“I don’t know that it will. But at this point, your Resistance is going to need all of the help it can get.”

Toah’s eyes widened slightly. “You mean, you’re joining us?”

Dani glanced at the man she had once loved—and perhaps still did—and sighed. “I’m offering my help. It’s up to you and your leaders to accept it. Either way, I plan on taking Corellia.”

“You’re definitely gonna need help to do that.” Booster looked Kyla, who gave him a slight nod. He turned back to Dani and sighed. “And I guess you’ve got it.”

Viira kicked at the icy dirt at her feet. “Listen, the others and I’ve been talking on the way over here, and while some of us still hate you for keepin’ secrets from us….” She glanced at Lavira, who merely crossed her arms. “We’re willing to give you a second chance.” She reached behind her back and produced the mask of the Pirate Queen, handing it to Dani. “None of us want it until you’ve actually gotten to prove yourself. If you fail those, that’s it. No more chances.”

Dani considered the proffered mask before taking it. “The Pirate Queen of Corellia,” she mused aloud. “Has a ring to it. Why didn’t I think of it sooner?”

“Self-awareness, maybe?” Booster muttered.

Dani ignored his grumblings as she placed the mask over her head. It felt good to wear it again. It was as if she was meant for it… or it was meant for her.

“It’s settled then,” she said. “We head for Corellia.”

“Actually, there’s something I need to take care of first,” said Cera.

Dani looked to her daughter. “And what is that?”

“I need to go to Sedratis. Tyron Valrisa wants me to meet him there to help him settle the Charge Matrica.”

“But you’re not an heir…”

“No. He wants me to help eliminate the true seventh heir. Then he will give me a full pardon.”

“It’s obviously a trap,” said Kyla Kishanti. “No politician ever stays true to their word.”

“I know that,” Cera said. “But I worry that if I don’t go, he’s just going to send people after me. After us. He already knows where I am because of Marv.”

“The Dowager’s droid?” Dani asked.

Cera nodded. “We kept him around in case we could anything on the Malvis Cabal from him… although I suppose there isn’t a point in doing so now.”

Dani thought for a moment. “If he knows where you are through Marv... then maybe we could reverse the connection and find out where he is.”

“Good luck,” Booster said. “My slicer’s already tried hacking into him but couldn’t get anywhere with him.”

Dani smirked. “No offense, Booster, but your slicer isn’t the end-all-be-all.” She looked over to Viira. “Drozza’s still with you?”

Viira blinked. “Um, yeah?”

“We’ll bring Marv to her and see what she can do with him. Maybe then we can find out what Tyron is planning for you on Sedratis.”

Once everyone had agreed to the plan, Dani returned her attention to Tyrius and Lunara. “Do you have people who can remove the collection from the First Light?”

Tyrius hesitated for the briefest of seconds. “Yes.”

“Good.” Dani took a breath, not believing what she was about to say. “I’m going to leave her with you. I’ve already reprogrammed it so that only I can start it up again. Not even Lunara knows the access code; I made sure of it.”

“Oh, don’t worry. I have no intention of leaving any time soon.”

“Good. Because if you do try to hack into its systems, it will initiate a self-destruct sequence and destroy you and the entire collection.” She allowed those words to sink in before turning back to the others. “All right. Let’s go.”

The Errant Venture

Aboard the Errant Venture, in an isolated cell, Kalon Sendor—possessed by the spirit of Darth Vorath—grinned.

Despite being cut off from the rest of the galaxy, the Dark Lord knew exactly where they were. While to most Arkania was nothing more than a secluded icy world that was home to the equally secluded and icy Arkanians, to a Sith Lord such as himself it was so much more.

Over seven thousand years ago, Arkania had been the site of a Sith library constructed by the early Sith Lord Ku’ar Danar. Predating the rise of the first Dark Lords on Korriban, the Great Library of Veeshas Tuwan had contained a great wealth of forbidden knowledge that Danar had used to influence the Dark Jedi in their war against the Republic and inadvertently cause the rise of the Sith Empire. Following the Great Hyperspace War, the library and its contents had been destroyed by the Republic in an attempt to rid the galaxy of the dark stain of the Sith… if only they had known how futile their efforts would turn out to be.

Even so, Veeshas Tuwan had been reduced to nothing more than a footnote in the history books. No Sith since then had even attempted to rebuild the Great Library and its contents, preferring to keep their dark knowledge in remote worlds on the edge of the galaxy to keep it out of the Jedi’s reach.

But that hadn’t stopped others from trying.

Vorath knew little about Sal Tyrius, but he had entrusted the young Arkanian collector with keeping a backup repository of Sith scrolls and holocrons at his museum in the event that his Empire collapsed, which it had not long after. Had it not, Vorath had planned to rebuild the Great Library of Veeshas Tuwan as the galaxy was reshaped into a dark imitation of itself. Although his plans had failed, he could sense the dark energies radiating from beneath Arkania’s surface, telling him that the collection Tyrius had been safekeeping had not been touched.

Everything was set for him to pick up where he had left off. All he needed to do was to get rid of Snoke and take control of the First Order, which was already itself an echo of his short-lived Sith Empire. With the Alliance already on its knees and the Resistance pushed to its limits, there would be nothing to stop him from finishing what he had started.

He just needed to be patient. Sedratis would be where everything went down. He could feel it in the Force. He did not know the exact hows or whys, but he did not need to. Things would play out as they would.

So far, everything had turned out in his favor and he did not see that changing any time soon.

Everything would proceed exactly as he had foreseen.

*  *  *

“All right, then.” Drozza spat out a glob of phlegm as she hovered over MR-V’s stationary body. “Let’s see what we’ve got here.”

Standing on the opposite side of the operating table, Booster’s slicer Ghent gave the Toydarian a skeptical look. “No offense, but if I couldn’t get anywhere with him, then there’s no way you can.”

Drozza glared at him. “How long have you been doing this, son?”

“’Son?’ I’m in my fifties. And I’ve been doing this since I was, like, twelve.”

“Well, I’ve been doing this since you were still floating in your mama’s womb. Now shut up and let me work.”

Ghent rolled his eyes and stepped back while Drozza went to work. As Cera and the others watched her, MR-V’s green photoreceptors flickered through different colors as the Toydarian messed with the wires in his cranium, pulling some cords out to connect to a nearby computer. Cera glanced at Ghent and saw the Barolian man shifting uncomfortably as he watched the old Toydarian work.

“That’s not how you’re supposed to…” he started to say.

“What did I just say?” Drozza snapped.

Booster put a hand on Ghent’s shoulder. “Let her do her thing. Worse thing she can do is fry the droid’s brain.”

“Oh, and I’m sure you would love to see that happen,” MR-V said gloomily. “Let’s see you lie conscious on an operating table while someone messes with your brain.”

“That goes for you, too, droid,” Drozza grunted.

The room stayed quiet as the Toydarian continued to operate on the droid, slicing into his processor and bringing the data up on the computer screen. Cera couldn’t make out anything from the data and could only hope that Drozza knew what she was doing. Behind her, she felt Typha lean against her back as she rested her chin on her shoulder.

“Does Tivec work like this?” Cera quietly asked her partner, referring to the Lannik slicer they had attempted to recruit not long ago.

“I wouldn’t know,” Typha whispered back. “He never let people watch him work.”

“How did you come to know him, anyway? Did he work for the Cabal?”

“Briefly. We were given an assignment together shortly after the Glorian War to break into a rival crime lord’s headquarters. It was a year before we met.”

“I’m surprised the Cabal would let him go to work for the Hutts….”

Typha shrugged. “Who knows what goes on in the minds of crime lords?”

After several long moments, Drozza finally spoke up after sifting through the data from MR-V’s processor. “Found him.”

“Found who?” asked Dani.

“The Chief of State,” Drozza snapped back, as if she had been asked the stupidest question in the galaxy. “He’s on Darkknell.”

“Darkknell?” Booster repeated. “What in the blazes is he doing out there?”

“Hell if I know, geezer.” Drozza then turned to Dani and folded her arms. “I’d better get a raise for this.”

“Sure thing,” Dani said dryly. She then turned to the others. “So is it off to Darkknell, then?”

Toah rubbed his chin. “Let’s not be too hasty. How do we know he isn’t trying to set up a trap for us on Darkknell?”

“Because he already wants me to go to Sedratis?” Cera replied. “They aren’t exactly neighbors, you know.”

“Not to mention that droid’s processor was pretty heavily encrypted,” Drozza grunted. “Even with my skills, it wasn’t easy.”

“You sure made it look easy,” Ghent said under his breath.

“Even so, the Chief of State is sure to have brought protection with him,” Toah said. “Having two cruisers appear in the system—especially one as recognizable as the Errant Venture—is going to set off alarms. We’ll need to take a smaller transport, like the Renegade. The rest will have to stay on standby to head for Sedratis in case we do end up going there.”

“Fine by me… except for one thing.” Booster raised an eyebrow at Toah. “We’ve still got a kid with a Sith spirit in his body. If you end up going to Darkknell with the Renegades, then I’m not sure how we’re gonna handle him without a Jedi if he decides to break out.”

Toah seemed to consider this as a grim expression crossed his face. He then closed his eyes and let out a sigh. “Kyla, you’re going to hate me for this….”

“No.” The Mirialan captain was already shaking her head. “You’re not suggesting we—”

“—take him with us. As well as his parents, in case Vorath hops into one of their bodies at the last minute.”

Dani looked between the two of them confusingly. “What’s this about Vorath? Isn’t he dead?”

“It’s a long story,” Toah muttered. Keeping his eyes on Kyla, he said, “Look, it’s either that or I stay on the Errant Venture with them. But I can’t leave them without Jedi supervision… even if one Jedi might not be enough to keep them in check.”

“I want you to come with us to Darkknell,” Cera said. When Toah looked at her in surprise, she elaborated. “Whatever Tyron has planned for me, I want you to be there to help me through it. Lately, I’ve been… hearing the Force more than I ever have in twelve years… and I worry that I might end up doing something with the Force that I’ll regret.”

“Having Vorath near you isn’t going to help that,” Toah warned.

“Which is why I need you. To guide me.”

Toah seemed he was about to further object until he locked eyes with Cera. He seemed to see something in her eyes that made him reconsider, as he then looked back to Kyla. The Mirialan looked back at him incredulously before eventually throwing up her hands in defeat.

“If he ends up throwing up Sith juice or something, you’re cleaning it up.”

*  *  *

The door to Kalon Sendor’s cell opened and the boy squinted his eyes at the sudden light.

“All right, kid,” a gruff voice said. “Time to go.”

Darth Vorath was confused. Had they already arrived at Sedratis? He hadn’t felt the Star Destroyer make the jump to lightspeed. He could have sworn that was where Cera Jarsan intended on going next, once the matter with her mother had been resolved. Of course, he hadn’t reached out to her since the showdown on Numidian Prime….

A large hand reached into the cell as a Kian’thar crew member grabbed Kalon’s arm and dragged the boy out of the cell. He did not resist as Vorath pondered what was going on. He then saw the boy’s parents, Varon and Lysira, brought out of their cells as well while other crew members fitted them with stun cuffs. The Kian’thar did the same to Kalon’s hands. Such devices could easily be broken by the mind of a Sith Lord, but Vorath did not want to cause a scene yet. He had to figure out what was going on.

That was when he saw Toah Jarsan. The Jedi Knight walked up to the boy and knelt in front of him, looking like a parent about to deliver upsetting news to a child.

“Hey, Vor,” Toah said.

“I will kill you if you ever call me that again,” Vorath said.

“Noted. Look, I have to go somewhere and Booster wants me to bring you and your parents with me. He and his crew aren’t well-equipped to look after a Sith-possessed child.”

The boy narrowed his eyes. “Where are we going?”

“Not sure if I should tell you just yet. But it’s pretty far away from here, so it’s going to be a long trip. Do you need to use the refresher before we go?”

“You realize I can take any information I want from you with a single thought, yes?”

“Good point,” Toah admitted. “All right, then. We’re going to Darkknell.”

Kalon frowned, projecting genuine confusion from the Sith spirit inhabiting his body. “Darkknell? Why there?”

“The Chief of State is taking a trip there. Why is anyone’s guess.” Toah then rose up. “Come on. He probably isn’t going to wait for us there.”

The Jedi started to leave and the Kian’thar pushed Kalon ahead while the other crew members escorted the boy’s parents. Vorath allowed the alien to do as it willed; his thoughts were occupied with trying to figure out why the Chief of State—installed by the First Order as he understood it—had any interest in a planet as remote as Darkknell.

He did know that, during the last few decades of the New Sith Wars, the planet had been the capital of the Sith fiefdom known as the Damianate, ruled by the solipsistic Sith Lord Daiman who adhered to a similar philosophy as Darth Ruin before him. One of the many grandchildren of Vilia Calimondra that vied for control of the Grumani sector, Daiman had actually come close to winning the Charge Matrica and moving on to take the rest of the galaxy, only to be thwarted by the errant Jedi Knight Kerra Holt. With Daiman’s death, the Calimondra bloodline had ended.

Or had it?

Vorath knew from Cera’s contact with Tyron Valrisa that the practice of the Charge Matrica had been reinstated by his mother Sareth. While the practice had not been exclusive to the Calimondra Sith, they had been the last ones known to use it. The odds of someone unrelated to them resurrecting the practice a millennium after the last heir had passed were extremely slim… which suggested that Daiman was perhaps not the last of his bloodline.

Suddenly, it all clicked together. That was why the Force had indicated the importance of Sedratis. If Tyron Valrisa truly was descended from the Calimondras, then whatever was of interest on Darkknell would inevitably lead back to Sedratis, Valrisa’s homeworld.

Content that things would continue to unfold as they would, Vorath allowed the Kian’thar to escort him to the Renegade, holding back a grin that threatened to creep onto the boy’s face.

Star Wars: Vergence V, Chapter Nine

CHAPTER NINE

 Darkknell

“You will have to accept help from your enemy.”

Agent Gray’s ominous words continued to ring in Poe’s mind as the old ITT he and the others were in made its way across the deserted plains that separated the various cities and settlements of Darkknell. He had never been a fan of riddles and preferred straight answers over murky responses. However, he doubted Gray would elaborate upon questioning and would simply tell him to wait until they got to their destination, whatever that was.

Of course, that wasn’t going to stop him from trying.

He had given it a good hour or so, once they were far away from Xakrea, that he finally looked over at Gray and fixed him with a quizzical look. “What exactly did you mean back there? About us accepting help from the enemy?”

Gray was silent for a long moment, and Poe was positive that he was going to remain silent for the rest of the trip. Then, to his surprise, the agent spoke.

“Not everyone is supportive of the First Order.”

Poe rolled his eyes. “That goes without saying. Why do you think we’re here?”

“I’m not just talking about the Resistance. There are plenty of Imperials who stand against the First Order.”

Poe gave him a bewildered look. “But… the First Order is the Empire. Isn’t it? I mean, besides the name….”

“I cannot fault you for thinking that,” Gray replied. “But my time behind enemy lines has shed some considerable light on the situation. From my understanding, there has been a secret schism within the First Order’s ranks, and those who oppose Supreme Leader Snoke have gone into hiding in order to evade execution for treason.”

“And they’re here on Darkknell?” Rey asked from behind them, having overheard their conversation.

“Yes.” Gray readjusted the transport’s shift and the vehicle’s speed began to slowly climb down. “And you’re about to meet them.”

Poe tensed in apprehension as he looked back outside. Coming up ahead was a lone settlement out on the desert plains of Darkknell. Consisting of a single street with five buildings on either side, it looked as if it housed no more than a few hundred people in total.

Despite what Gray had said, Poe wasn’t sure how he felt about working about Imperials, even if they had supposedly separated from the First Order. While he had flown alongside Imperial fighters during the Glorian War, those three years were overshadowed by the twenty years of war as well as the betrayal from two years ago. In his mind, if these Imperials had truly deserted, then they wouldn’t have been calling themselves Imperials. They would have done what Finn had done and leave that life behind entirely.

As the ITT drove up to the small town, Poe saw a squad of stormtroopers standing guard at the entrance. Their once-pristine white armor was covered in mud and dirt, and some of them were even missing pieces. One of them, whom Poe took to be a commander judging by the faded yellow stripes on their arms, wasn’t even wearing a helmet, revealing the face of a grizzled bearded man.

The commander walked up to the driver’s side of the transport and Gray rolled down the window to greet him. No words were exchanged between the two men as Gray handed him his identification. The stormtroopers then stepped aside to allow the ITT to roll on into the settlement.

Once the transport had come to a stop, Poe and the others disembarked from the vehicle. As they stepped outside, Poe saw a man in an unbutton Imperial officer’s uniform step out from one of the buildings, flanked by two stormtroopers. The officer eyed Poe and his allies with suspicion but that suspicion turned into concern when he saw Gray.

“Has your position been compromised?”

“Yes.” Gray raised his hands to remove his helmet. He pulled it off and shook free a head full of long sandy hair. A beard of a similar color covered his face. “The First Order has practically taken control of Xakrea and installed their own governor. And they’re using the Tandoon Clan has enforcers.”

“Blast,” the officer muttered. “That means we’re not long for this world. We’ll need to evacuate.”

“We haven’t got the fuel,” said one of his stormtrooper guards. “We won’t be able to get our ships flight ready in time.”

The officer scowled but did not refute the statement. “Then we’ll have to hope we don’t get noticed until they are.” He stopped to look over at Poe and his companions, and a gleam of recognition seemed to enter his eyes. “Wait. It’s Dameron, isn’t it? Commander Dameron?”

Poe blinked in surprise. “Uh, yes. Yes, I am. Have we met?”

The officer smirked. “Not in person, but I believe we have spoken over comms before.” He extended a hand. “Admiral Trebor Horan. Although you might have known me as a captain back then.”

Poe’s eyes went wide and he couldn’t help a smile as he took the other man’s hand in his own and shook it firmly. “Now I know where I’ve heard that voice before. Battle of Ringo Vinda, right? We were fresh off the victory at Rhen Var.”

Horan nodded. “Indeed. I suppose planets with those initials are my charm.”

Poe chuckled before looking around the small settlement. “So, how did you end up here? Gray tells me you deserted—”

“Not deserted,” Horan firmly corrected him. “It is those who stand with the First Order that are the treasonous ones. We represent the true Empire.”

Poe glanced around at the stormtroopers with beat-up, dirty armor. Then he looked back to Horan and arched an eyebrow. “Not exactly the Emperor’s finest, are you?”

Horan sighed heavily, not rising to the barb. “We haven’t had a true Emperor for a long time.” He then gestured for them to follow him. “Come inside. We have a lot of stuff to go over.”

*  *  *

Once Poe and the others had been seated at the wide, round meeting table, refreshments in hand, Admiral Horan sat across from them along with the grizzled stormtrooper commander from outside and another commander whom, to Poe’s slight surprise, was a female Devaronian rather than a human as he was accustomed to stormtroopers being. Poe now knew the grizzled stormtrooper to be Commander Ronn Jokar of Joker Squad, a stormtrooper unit that had risen to prominence during the Glorian War.

After taking a sip of lukewarm water, Horan set down his flask and began speaking. “We’re not exactly sure where or how the First Order came to be, but we have our theories. Our understanding is that they started out as the remnants of Admiral Rax’s forces left over after the Battle of Jakku.”

Poe nodded. He had only been three years old at the time, but he knew from his parents’ stories that, in the year after Endor, an Imperial named Admiral Gallius Rax had engineered a campaign codenamed Operation: Cinder that had led to the devastation of numerous worlds in the name of the late Emperor. It had all culminated in the Battle of Jakku, which had seen to Rax’s demise and the decimation of his forces, with the survivors retreating for parts unknown. It had long been believed that most of them had been absorbed into the various warlord factions that had risen in Palpatine’s wake, although such theories had never been confirmed.

“The earliest we’ve been able to trace their activities has been to the years following the Imperial Sith War,” Horan went on. “My guess is that, after the Sith were defeated, they decided it was time to put their plans into motion. Or, alternatively, they had always been loyal to the Sith and were now continuing what they had started.”

“The first red flag was the Children of Vader crisis,” said Commander Jokar. “I had only just enlisted when I heard about the attacks on New Alderaan and Hosnian Prime. I was worried that the Empire was already slipping back into its old ways after it had just agreed to peace with the New Republic. But Pellaeon had made it clear that he condemned the actions of the cult, even if he and the Moffs could never fully explain how some cultists got their hands on two Star Destroyers.”

“Two years after that was when the dominoes really started to fall,” Horan said. “General Brendol Hux mysteriously died and was replaced with his son Armitage. Then, Pellaeon quietly retired and was replaced by Rolan Verradun. As far as we can tell, Verradun wasn’t privy to the First Order but several of the Moffs were, including Lecersen, and they manipulated Verradun to do as they pleased.”

“The Glorian War delayed their plans by a few years,” said Jokar. “It caught them off guard as much as it did the rest of us. But after the invaders were dealt with, it was back to business. That was when Lecersen kicked off his plot with the help of the renegade Sith.”

“It always ties back to the Sith,” grumbled the Devaronian commander, taking a swig from a flask of something that probably wasn’t water.

Poe grimaced as he took it all in. “If the Moffs were in on it, then why did the First Order get rid of them?”

“Probably because they would have gotten in the way,” Horan said. “They were willing to stab Pellaeon and Verradun in the back. Snoke would have been no different, and he knew that.”

“And what do you have on Snoke?”

Horan sat back and raised his hands. “No more than you do. He’s covered his tracks extremely well.”

Finn leaned forward in his seat. “So after Snoke took over, you guys separated from the rest?”

“Not all at once,” Jokar said. “My squad and I were the first to leave. It was pretty easy since the Moffs wanted us gone, especially after the Glorian War. They couldn’t sleep with the fact that some bottom-of-the-rung stormtroopers were the ones to get the credit in helping to destroy the Glorians’ Star Forge.”

“My squad left shortly after,” said the Devaronian woman. “We were all non-humans, and with Snoke bringing back the humanocentrism that plagued the Empire, we knew we would be the first on the cutting block.”

Finn looked at her and Poe saw his face light up in recognition. “You’re Commander Tian Davla, aren’t you? Of Devil Squad.” 

The Devaronian looked at him in surprise, as did Horan and Jokar. “Have we met?”

Finn shifted awkwardly. “In passing. My operating number was FN-2187.”

Davla’s eyes went wide. “You were one of Phasma’s boys.”

“I was. I deserted a year ago after Kylo Ren massacred a village on Jakku.”

Horan shuddered at the name. “And there’s the reason I left. I heard about the massacre and that was the last straw for me. Took the Harbinger and my crew and cut off all contact with the rest of the fleet. No idea if they’re still tracking us, but from what I’ve gathered they’ve got other things to keep them occupied.”

“So you’ve got a Star Destroyer here on Darkknell?” asked Jessika.

“We’ve got it parked in a cavern about five kilometers from here,” said Jokar. “Not ideal, but it’s the only way we could hide a ship of that size. It’s low on fuel anyway and we haven’t been able to get it back up.”

Poe leaned back in his seat and looked over to Agent Gray. “So how did you come to meet these guys? And why didn’t General Organa tell me about them?”

Gray sighed. “Because I didn’t inform her.”

Poe narrowed his eyes. “Why not?”

“I knew she would order me to cease contact with them and reassign me to another location. And that was not an order I wanted to follow.” Gray leaned over and clasped his hands over the table. “I strongly believe that the Resistance needs to reconsider its strategy on taking down the First Order… and that requires working with someone that already has an idea on how it operates.”

“Then recruit them into the Resistance,” Poe said. He gestured to Finn. “We’ve already got one ex-stormtrooper. What’s a hundred more? Sure, General Helricks might throw a fit about it, but I’m sure General Organa would—”

Gray was already shaking his head. “Doing so would bolster the Resistance’s numbers, yes. But it’s not numbers we need from the Empire—the true Empire. It’s their image.”

Poe frowned. He did not like where this conversation was heading. “What are you talking about?”

“The reason why the Resistance has failed to get any major support or victories is because the galaxy is tired of conflict. Over the course of the last seventeen years, we’ve already been through two separate wars, and that’s not including the horrors that have been inflicted on Ossus and Mandalore. The war we fight now against the First Order is already seen as a repeat of the war against the Galactic Empire from four decades prior. I know this because I’ve heard as much from the people who live in Xakrea. To them, it’s just the Rebellion and the Empire again.”

“Okay? So what? Shouldn’t that mean that they realize the evil the First Order poses and that they should support the Resistance?”

“You would think so,” Gray said. “But unfortunately that is not the case. Again, the people are tired, Commander Dameron. They are fatigued. They want it all to end, even if it means taking the easy route. And that easy route is to surrender.”

Poe struck the table with the palm of his hand. “No! I refuse to believe that. There has to be some fight in these people left!”

“And maybe there is. But the Resistance has failed to light the spark in their hearts.” Gray’s blue eyes gleamed. “But I think I might have.”

“Oh, yeah?” Poe said skeptically. “And how is that?”

Gray gestured over to Horan and his commanders. “We give them a choice. The First Order… or the Empire.”

Poe glanced over at the Imperials before giving Gray an incredulous look. “They’re the same thing.”

“Even after what they’ve told you?”

“I’m sorry, but….” Poe shook his head. “I don’t see how this can work. People know what the Empire is, what they’ve done…. If they were willing to support the Empire, they would already be backing the First Order. The differences are minimal.”

“On the surface, perhaps. But not if you look at the bigger picture.”

Poe shook his head again, running a hand over his face. He then looked at Gray pointedly. “Why are you even advocating this? Whose side are you even on?”

“I am on the galaxy’s side,” Gray said firmly. “I am trying to do what is right for it.”

“And you think by siding with the Empire, you’re doing what’s right?”

Gray sighed and looked away from Poe. “I understand this is difficult for you to fully comprehend. You are biased; your parents were veterans of the First Galactic Civil War and you have been fighting against the Empire until sixteen years ago. Even after the Glorian War, you still don’t fully see them as allies and you continue to think of things as black and white. I say this not as a criticism of you, but as an assessment. Before bringing you here, I knew this was a long shot. But it was one I had to take.”

An uncomfortable silence fell over the table. Everyone averted each other’s gaze, wary of a heated argument breaking out. Forty years worth of tension loomed over them, even if most of them were too young to remember it or even experience it.

To Poe’s surprise, it was Rey who was the first to speak. And the words that came out of her mouth were the last thing he expected her to utter.

“I think it could work.”

Poe’s head snapped to her, incredulity plastered over his face. Finn looked at her in surprise as well, as did Jessika, Beaumont, Rose, Selena, and Shyra. Even the Imperials seemed taken aback. Only Gray remained expressionless, although he seemed to look at Rey with a hint of intrigue.

“Do you?” he asked.

Conscious of the stares aimed in her direction, Rey shrugged sheepishly. “I mean… it’s worth a shot, isn’t it? We shouldn’t throw away an option just because it sounds ridiculous. It could even work.”

Poe leaned forward. “Look, I get it. You grew up with a sheltered life. The only exposure you had to the war were the corpses of Star Destroyers and Mon Cal Cruisers. You don’t know anything about what the Empire was like.”

Rey glared at him. “I know more than you’d think. Plenty of spacers came by to share their stories—”

“Second-hand accounts don’t mean anything. You weren’t there. You didn’t live through any battles or seen any death and destruction first hand.” Poe pointed a thumb at his chest. “I did. My parents did. We know what the Empire is. Sure, there may be a few good souls, but they are outnumbered by filth.”

“And that filth is what makes up the First Order,” Horan said pointedly. “If you take out filth and make something out of the good bits left, however few there are… then don’t you think something good can be built out of it?”

Poe clenched a fist with his under hand under the table. He gritted his teeth as he was about to fire off into another retort. Perhaps mercifully, the room was spared from his mounting frustration when a stormtrooper with missing shoulder pads carefully stepped into the room.

“Sirs,” they addressed Horan and the stormtrooper commanders. “We’re picking up a broadcast from Xakrea.”

“It can wait,” Horan said tiredly.

“I don’t think it can, sir. It’s the new governor and… he’s demonstrating the public execution of two ‘rebel terrorists.’”

Poe shot up to his feet so fast that his chair practically went flying across the room. “Put it on,” he demanded. “Now!”

*  *  *

Governor Xorn Gavrik paced back and forth on the stage, eying the two apprehended terrorists that each had a noose tied around their neck. The people of Xakrea were gathered below, eagerly calling for their deaths. They would get what they want, but first Gavrik had a show to put on. Holocam droids surrounded the stage, recording everything, and he walked in a pattern to make sure each one got his good side.

“These terrorists,” he began, projecting his voice loud enough that he probably didn’t even need the microphone attached to his jaw, “are just two of the many that struck Xakrea earlier this afternoon. Most of them still remain at large.”

He gestured widely to the large holoscreen behind him, and on cue it displayed the image of a dark-haired woman standing over the body of an Ikkrukkian civilian. This only further provoked the crowds as they cried out in anger.

“Tonight,” he continued, “we make an example of these insurgents. We shall show the world—nigh, the galaxy!—that it is unwise to invoke the anger of Darkknell!”

Cheers rose from the sea of people below. Gavrik couldn’t help a grin from coming to his face as he spread his arms and basked in the glory. He hadn’t been governor for a month and yet he was already enjoying it.

He turned away from them to look at the two prisoners. One of them, a human male, simply glared at him in silence while the other, a Duros, affixed his red eyes on the governor.

“Governor,” the blue-skinned insurgent croaked, his voice strained from the noose tied tightly around his neck. “Please, you must understand. This is all a huge misunderstanding.”

Gavrik smiled wickedly as he moved the mic away from his mouth. He leaned in close to the Duros so that the cameras wouldn’t catch the movement of his lips.

“Oh, I know,” he whispered into the Duros’ ear. “This is all just for show. I know who you really are and why you’re here. This is just to show that no planet is safe for your pithy little resistance.”

The Duros stared at him in shock, his mouth agape as he searched for words that he couldn’t say.

Smirking, Gavrik stepped away from him and moved the mic back into place. “You shouldn’t have come to Darkknell,” he said, and then gave the signal.

The floor beneath the rebels’ feet gave way and the two dropped to their deaths. Cheers erupted behind Gavrik and the governor turned to splay his arms out to the people.

“Justice has been served!” he declared. “And now we shall track down the remaining terrorists and deliver them the same fate!”

His words were drowned out by the incessant cries of the crowd, and all Gavrik could do was bathe in the glory.

*  *  *

The video cut out as Rey seized the viewscreen with the Force and hurled the entire monitor across the room. Two stormtroopers quickly moved out of the way to avoid being crushed by it.

Before anyone could reprimand her for the violent display, Rey whirled to Poe and looked him straight in the eyes.

“We have to go back,” she said darkly. “Now.”

Poe found it difficult to maintain eye contact, wondering if the woman standing in front of him was really supposed to be a Jedi. “There’s no point,” he said, his mouth dry. “They’re already dead.”

“Then we go back there and bring the governor to justice.”

“There is no justice,” said Commander Davla. “Not on this planet.”

However, Poe knew what it was Rey was referring to as his eyes drifted down to the lightsaber hanging from her belt. He then looked back at her, seeing the fury in her eyes.

“I thought Jedi didn’t do revenge,” he muttered.

“They don’t,” said Gray. He came up to stand besides Rey and placed a hand on her shoulder. “Let us not be hasty in our decision. We do have other options.”

“Like what?” asked Horan. “As I’ve said, our ships are grounded. We won’t be leaving any time soon.”

“Snap and the others are still in orbit,” Poe pointed out. “I’ve told them to stand by, but if the governor is serious about his search….”

“He is,” Gray said. “The best thing you can have them do now is to return to base and tell General Organa of what has transpired. I trust that she will know how to address the situation. In the meantime, we will need to return to Xakrea… but not to overthrow the governor.”

“Then for what?” asked Poe.

“From the messages I have intercepted, I have managed to put together an estimation of Governor Gavrik’s current schedule. The next item on his agenda is to deliver a warm welcome to a very important guest.” Gray’s mouth twitched into a smirk. “The Chief of State.”

Star Wars: First Order of Business, Part 15

15: FIRST ORDER OF BUSINESS 

Mimban

Kylo had been the first one to spot the arriving starfighter, but it had been Vicrul who had alerted the others. As the Knights of Ren gathered outside the Temple of Pomojema, they watched as the sleek ship landed in the clearing in front of them. The cockpit opened up as a young man with blond hair stood up and climbed out of the fighter.

So far, the time they had spent on Mimban had yet to yield any shards of the Kaiburr Crystal. Their journey had led them here to the crystal’s former resting place, a temple erected in worship of the deity that natives called Pomojema. While there were still no signs of any crystals, Kylo could not help but feel a great power radiating from the temple. He had said as much to Ren, who gruffly dismissed him and told him to focus on the search.

Now their search had been put on pause until dealt with this trespasser. Cardo raised his arm cannon, ready to shoot the young man dead then and there, but Ren put a hand on his shoulder to stop him.

“Let’s not be too hasty,” Ren said quietly. “We might have a new recruit on our hands.”

“We don’t need any more recruits,” Trudgen grunted. “We have enough members as it is.”

Ren inclined his head towards his right-hand man. “Who calls the shots here?”

Trudgen sighed heavily, the sound amplified by his mask. “You do….”

“Right. Now shut up.”

As the young man approached the Knights of Ren, he regarded them with a heavy air of skepticism. Kylo noticed that a lightsaber hilt hanged from his belt and he glanced over to see if Ren had noticed it as well. The Master of the Knights made no indication that he had as he extended an arm to the stranger.

“Hello there,” Ren said, his cordial tone contrasting with his and the other Knights’ fearsome appearances. “What brings you here to Mimban?”

The man eyed him evenly before answering. “My name is Karre,” he said. “As far as I know, I am the last member of the Children of Vader.”

Kylo did not recognize the name but Ren shifted slightly as if he did. “Is that right? Things didn’t go so well, eh?”

“The Gemini has been destroyed… my sister along with it.” Karre took in a breath and let it out. “Ingo Wavlud and the others are dead. I found their bodies on Vjun.”

“How sad,” Ren said, hardly sounding sympathetic. “So is that it, then? Is the whole show over?”

Karre looked to the ground, his shoulders sagging. “I suppose it is.”

“Well, as some people say, when one book closes, it’s time to crack open a new one.” Ren then gestured to the lightsaber hilt hanging from Karre’s belt. “That one real?”

Karre glanced at the hilt and frowned in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“It works? Like a normal lightsaber?”

“Um, yeah. Why?”

“Would you like a place with us?”

Karre looked up at Ren, an eyebrow raised. “Is… that a genuine offer?”

“Course it is. Just one condition.” Ren then pushed Kylo forward. “You have to kill him.”

Kylo spun around to look at Ren incredulously. “What?!”

“Only room on the Buzzard for eight,” Ren said curtly. “It’s either you or him.”

Karre was already shaking his head. “No. Enough blood has been shed today. I’m not killing anyone.”

“Then he’ll kill you.” Ren shrugged. “I really don’t care. Just get this over with so we can leave already.”

Karre started to back away towards his ship, raising his hands. “Look, I don’t… I don’t want any part in this. Let’s just go our separate ways and—”

Kylo snarled as he reached out with his hand, freezing the young man in place. As Karre’s blue-gray eyes widened in fear, Kylo used the Force to summon the lightsaber hilt straight into his other hand. He regarded it for a moment before pressing its activation switch, igniting its blue blade. He then angled the blade and pulled Karre forward, sending the blade right through his chest.

Karre let out a barely audible gasp as the life left his eyes. Kylo then turned off the blade and allowed his body to fall lifelessly to the ground.

“Nice work, kid,” Ren said. He then extended a hand. “Now, the lightsaber.”

Kylo did not move, staring at where Karre’s body laid. “Were you really going to let him kill me?”

“Sure. If you’re not strong enough, then you’re not fit for the Knights of Ren.”

“But I’m your apprentice….”

“Not that I really had a say in the matter. If someone better comes along, don’t think I’ll hesitate to consider replacing you.” Ren’s tone was becoming increasingly more impatient. “Hand over the lightsaber already.”

Kylo reignited the blue blade and swung it at Ren. His master saw the move coming and blocked the attack with his own red blade. As the sabers interlocked, the other Knights of Ren watched on, looking unsure whether to intervene or let them fight.

Leaning in towards Kylo, Ren growled low under his breath. “You don’t wanna do this, kid. Stand down now and we can put this behind us.”

Kylo responded by putting his entire weight into the saber lock, forcing Ren to break off as he stumbled back. Kylo did not wait for him to recover as he charged in for the kill, giving fully into his rage as he unleashed it with every strike of his blade. Ren was able to deflect the first few, but as he backed up the steps into the Temple of Pomojema, Kylo could tell that his defenses were beginning to falter, which only further fueled his attacks.

In time, they were within the main antechamber of the temple, the colors of their blades flashing in the darkness. Ren attacked like a brute, swinging his blade almost like a club, but Kylo was more nimble and was able to dodge his attacks before rejoining with his own strikes. Everything was becoming a red haze to him as he channeled all of his anger into his attacks. Anger at Ren for trying to get him killed. Anger at Ren for keeping secrets. Anger at Ren for not treating him as an equal or a student but as some unwanted hanger-on.

He had had enough of it. If the other Knights weren’t going to respect him, then he would make them. And he knew of only way to do so.

Kylo unleashed a flurry of attacks that were enough to make Ren falter and drop to one knee. This gave Kylo the opening he needed and he sliced the blue blade right through Ren’s wrist, severing his hand and causing his lightsaber to fall to the floor. He then summoned the red blade to his other hand and crossed the sabers at Ren’s neck.

The Master of the Knights of Ren let out an uneasy chuckle. “Okay, kid. I think I get your point. Let’s settle this like gentlemen, eh?”

Kylo glared at him through the slit of his mask. “Here is your good death.”

He then uncrossed the blades. Ren’s mask clattered to the floor as his headless body crumpled into a lifeless heap.

For a long time, Kylo simply stood there in the center of the chamber. He then tossed Ren’s lightsaber aside before opening up the other one, removing its blue kyber crystal. He then held up towards the ceiling and closed his eyes as he focused himself, channeling all of his power, all of his emotions, into the crystal.

Red lightning erupted around him and he cried out in agony as it coursed through his body. Images flashed through his mind; horrific images of painful memories as well as manifestations of his anger and rage. He felt a sharp pain in his head and it felt as if his skull was about to crack open. The crystal pulsed in his hand, feeling as if it was trying to resist him and burn its way out of his hand to get away from all of the dark energies he was pouring into it. But he pressed on, tightening his grip so hard he could have sworn the crystal was beginning to crack.

As instantly as it had begun, the pain receded and the crackling energies ceased, and Kylo collapsed onto the ground in exhaustion. Breathing heavily, he opened his palm to look at the kyber crystal. It burned red in his hand, the palm of his glove having been burned away to reveal the charred skin of his hand. Cracks coursed through the crystal’s surface, threatening to release all of its energies in a burst of energy.

Tossing aside the now-useless hilt of Karre’s lightsaber, Kylo brought out the one they had gotten from Naos—the one that had once belonged to Darth Atrius. Placing the crystal in the hilt, he braced himself as he pressed the ignition switch. From all three emitters, red blades sprung out to form a crossguard shape. The beams of energy were incredibly unstable compared to the blades of a normal lightsaber, including Ren’s. But after a few swings of the weapon, even using it to slice at Ren’s discarded lightsaber, destroying it for good.

Satisfied with his achievement, Kylo stood up and exited the chamber, coming out to stand at the top of the steps with his new lightsaber in hand. The other Knights waited for him below, but his surprise they had been joined by someone else.

Dressed in a extravagant gold and black robe, Snoke stood tall amongst the Knights, who seemed just as startled and surprised by his appearance as Kylo was. He had no idea where his former caretaker had come from, nor did he see any sign of a ship that he could have arrived in.

He was distracted from his thoughts as Snoke raised his arms in greeting, beaming warmly at his former protege.

“It has been so long, Ben,” Snoke said. “Or is it Kylo now?”

“No,” Kylo said quietly. He raised his lightsaber high over his head. “It is Kylo Ren.”

Snoke smiled as he clasped his hands. “And so it shall be. All hail Kylo, Master of the Knights of Ren!”

At once, the other Knights bowed before their new leader, although Vicrul was the last to drop to his knee. They bowed their heads as Kylo Ren descended the steps, coming to stand before Snoke. He stared up at the taller man for a moment before deactivating his lightsaber and kneeling before his former caretaker.

“I pledge myself to your teachings once more… my master,” Kylo Ren said.

Snoke chuckled before motioning him to stand back up. “Rise, my apprentice. There is much work to be done.”

“What happens now?” Kylo Ren asked as he stood.

“A new age is about to begin,” Snoke replied, his tone low. “An age that shall eventually bring the New Republic to its knees and usher in a new order of peace and security. Right now, our first order of business is to pick up the pieces left behind by the Children of Vader so that we may clear the stage for our rise to supremacy.

“Remember this day, my young apprentice, for it is the day that you have decided your true destiny… and decided the fate of the galaxy as a result.”