CHAPTER FIVE
Korriban
Jerec stood at the bottom of the massive staircase that led up into the tomb of Marka Ragnos. A weathered and torn statue of the ancient Dark Lord of the Sith had been erected in the face of the cliffside that the crypt had been built into, with a piece of one of its horns missing, lost to the ravages of time. As a Miraluka, he was unable to see the tomb physically, but the dark side in the surrounding area was so strong that he could see the image vividly in his mind through the Force.
In all his life, Jerec had never sit foot on the Sith homeworld before, despite his vested interest in the dark side and its disciples. During the age of the Old Republic, the planet had been cordoned off with the rest of the Sith Worlds, with access being granted to only the highest ranking Jedi or Republic officials. Despite having held the rank of Jedi Master during those days, Jerec had never been permitted to venture out to the dark worlds of the Sith, no doubt because the fools who sat on the Council refused to trust him, or perhaps were afraid of what he would do with the forbidden knowledge that he would find there. Even as an Inquisitor, enforcing the will of the Emperor, his duties had prevented him from indulging in his desires; again, no doubt due to fear of competition from the two Sith Lords that did rule the Empire.
At least, after all these years, Jerec finally found himself standing in the shadows of the Dark Lords that ruled over the valley of Sith long since departed from the mortal realm. And yet, he could not help but feel disappointed.
It was not because of what he had seen so far of Korriban; far from it, in fact. He marveled in the dark energies that radiated from every direction, carried by the winds. He could not wait to plunder each and every one of the tombs, to scrape up whatever artifacts and knowledge that had not already been taken by those before him.
No, rather he was disappointed because of what his presence here meant. It meant that he had been called away from his previous objective, just as he had been on the cusp of victory.
Not too long ago, less than a year after the Battle of Endor had passed, Jerec had received a message from his mentor in the dark side, Lord Cornal. The enigmatic Prophet of the Dark Side had hinted to him that the Emperor had not quite perished with the destruction of the Death Star; or, at the very least, there was a chance to bring him back. That was when Cronal had directed him to find the Valley of the Jedi on Ruusan, the site of the final battle between the Jedi and Sith over a millennium ago that had since become a nexus of power in the Force, a culmination of the light and dark energies derived from departed souls.
Jerec had agreed to the quest… but not because his old master had asked him to. In fact, he had already been searching for the Valley well before Cronal had contacted him. It had long been a subject of interest for him, and he had used every resource at his disposal—most provided to him from Grand Moff Kaine’s Pentastar Alignment—in his effort to find the Valley. He also had no intention of using it to serve the Emperor, if he indeed still lived; rather, Jerec intended to use the power to take the Empire for himself and conquer the galaxy. What point would there be in serving the Emperor when he could be so much more powerful than even him?
It was not long after receiving this message from Cronal that Jerec had received another one; this time telegraphing his former master’s death through the Force as he was consumed by his own devices. Shortly following that had been the arrival of a mysterious red droid that played for Jerec a message from the late Emperor, providing him with confirmation that Palpatine had indeed perished at Endor… as well as orders to seek out an artifact known as the Scepter of Ragnos, effectively stalling his plans to find the Valley of the Jedi.
Jerec had been conflicted whether to trust the message let alone heed it. A skilled enough slicer could have easily created a fake recorded message from the Emperor to trick its recipients. Yet something about it had felt genuine to Jerec, familiar enough as he was with the man during both his reigns as Emperor and Supreme Chancellor before then. After much deliberation, Jerec had reluctantly decided to obey the post-mortem command and depart for Korriban, putting his quest for the Valley of the Jedi on hold.
Besides, if it was a trick, then at least he would not be the only one to be fooled by it, if the presence of Grand Moff Nihan was anything to go by. And if the Scepter of Ragnos did indeed exist and could be found in the tomb, then that would only provide Jerec with more power at his disposal.
He could tell that he was not the only one hungry for the power that awaited him in the tomb. Behind him stood his six Dark Jedi, assembled in accordance to the ideas presented in the Emperor’s own Dark Side Compendium. The burly Boltrunian Maw, the first of his converts, exuded the same sense of hunger and desire that Jerec felt in so many of his prospective students, many much younger and inexperience than Maw. Then, of course, there was the rabid Twi’lek Boc Aseca, a ravenous animal if there ever was one, sniffing the air and licking his chapped lips as he craved the dark energies that laid ahead. And while the Sithspawn mutants Gorc and Pic demonstrated no indication of such cravings, Jerec could tell that the young Sariss and Yun did. Sariss was not much of a surprise, being the daughter of Lord Cronal himself and thus a Prophetess of the Dark Side. But Yun, being the young son of a wealthy mineral baron, had probably never once tasted the power of the dark side until now. All of this was no doubt overwhelming to him, yet at the same time he wanted more. Just as they all did.
Jerec considered the possibility that, if they did find the Scepter of Ragnos, that one or all of his disciples would turn against him and he would be forced to kill them. As much as he had hoped to rule the galaxy with six loyal servants at his immediate beck and call, it was a sacrifice that Jerec was willing to make. After all, with the Scepter of Ragnos in his hands—and soon, the Valley of the Jedi—then he would have no need for such servants. He would be utterly unstoppable.
Squaring his shoulders, Jerec took in a breath of the warm Korriban air. Then, he began his journey up the many steps, his six Dark Jedi trailing close behind him.
Chommell Minor system
The friend who owed Shara a favor was not exactly the type Leia had expected her to associate with. It wasn’t just that he flew a ship that made the Millennium Falcon look like a piece of art. Nor was it the fact that he was a member of a duck-like species known as the Palmopates who filled the cabin of his ship with the smell of the cigarra he always had hanging from his mouth. And it wasn’t necessarily the fact that he dropped a curse every other word that made him seem like he wasn’t Shara’s type.
Now that Leia thought about it, it was probably a combination of all of those things.
The rickety old G9 light freighter made a loud groan as it dropped out of hyperspace with a lurch, jostling Leia and Shara in their seats. The ship’s pilot, the ornery Nald Ducson, let out a high-pitched quack as he slapped the control panel above him. He had to practically jump out of his seat to do so, being half the height of the average human and looking comically undersized for the pilot’s seat. The seat itself had a few cushions stacked on top of it to provide him better elevation.
“Ah, shut it, you murglak mating machine!” Even Nald’s speaking voice was as high-pitched and garbled as his quacks. He reminded Leia of a fictional character from the holovids she would watch as a little girl. “Can’t you hold it together for twenty more kriffing minutes?!”
While the duck-like pilot continued to curse his ship out, Leia shifted awkwardly in her seat and glanced over at Shara, who seemed to be both embarrassed by her friend’s behavior and used to it.
“I’m sorry to ask, but how exactly did you two come to know each other?” Leia whispered to the other woman.
“He’s a family friend,” Shara replied. “He and my father have known each for years. They used to run the trade routes from Batuu to Waldis.”
Leia nodded, somewhat understanding. She was familiar with both worlds; Batuu from people like Han who had been there and Waldis for being the site of a Rebel base that had since been remade into a New Republic spaceport. Waldis itself wasn’t that far from Endor, and it had been with the help of a StarSpeeder 3000 launched from Waldis’s spaceport that a worldcraft resembling the Death Star had been destroyed near Endor in the months following the death of the Emperor. Intelligence had still yet to pinpoint which Imperial splinter faction had been behind the attack, although it had been uncovered that a number of Alliance warships had been hijacked from nearby shipyards during that time.
Leia would have been lying to herself if she did not admit to feeling somewhat overwhelmed by the increasing amount of fiefdoms that were rising in the Emperor’s wake. If anything, the Empire was just as dangerous in its collapsed state than it had been when under a single leader, owing to the chaos that the splinter factions had caused by fighting themselves as well as the New Republic.
As far as she knew, Chommell Minor—as with Naboo and the rest of its sector—was still under the control of the greater Empire, now controlled by Director Ysanne Isard. The appearance of two Imperial Star Destroyers orbiting the planet upon their approach certainly confirmed a steady Imperial presence on the planet. Leia braced herself as Nald Ducson was hailed by one of the Star Destroyers and the Palmopate pilot answered the call.
“Freighter, please identify yourself and your reason for being in Imperial space,” the clipped tone of an Imperial captain came through.
Nald cleared his throat—a not-so-pleasant sound—before answering. “This is G9 freighter Starwish requesting permission to land in New Renatasia.”
“What business do you have on Chommell Minor, Starwish?”
“Just need to drop off some supplies. I’ll be in and out before you know it.”
A pause. A pause that lasted far too long in Leia’s opinion. She exchanged a look with Shara, who seemed to share the concern she was feeling. It was possible the Imperials weren’t taking Nald seriously due to his admittedly comical-sounding voice. Or there was something else arising their suspicion….
Finally, the Imperial captain spoke again. “How many passengers are you carrying, Starwish?”
Nald’s white feathers pricked up nervously as he readjusted the collar of his blue buttoned uniform. “None, Captain.”
“We are detecting two additional lifeforms aboard your ship. Care to try that again?”
Nald glanced back nervously at Leia and Shara. “Oh, that must be my two loth cats. Been watching them for a friend. Those don’t count as passengers, do they?”
Another bout of silence. Shara was about to rise up to whisper something to Nald when the captain spoke again.
“You may proceed to Docking Bay Ten at New Renatasia Spaceport, Starwish. Enjoy your visit.”
Nald breathed a sigh of relief, but Leia’s apprehension had hardly been alleviated. Something in the captain’s tone in those last few words did not sit well with her, and as the Starwish proceeded past the Star Destroyers down towards the planet below, she could not help but feel a sense of dread wash over her.
“Well, that was a close one,” Nald said, completely oblivious to Leia’s uneasiness. “You owe me a few drinks after all this, Shara.”
“Sure thing, Nald.” Shara kept her tone light but her face shared Leia’s disquiet. Sitting back in her seat, she leaned in to speak quietly to Leia. “They’re going to be waiting for us down there, aren’t they?”
“Undoubtedly,” Leia muttered.
“What do you think we should do?”
Leia was silent as she sat there in contemplation. Then, she looked over to Shara, locking eyes with the other woman.
“I have an idea,” the Princess of Alderaan said quietly. “And you might not like it.”
* * *
The Star Destroyer Torment dropped out of hyperspace and began to approach the world of Chommell Minor. A mostly terrestrial world with a city modeled after the likes of those found in the Core Worlds, Chommell Minor was effectively under the control of House Greejatus since the rise of the Empire. As the family’s patriarch Janus had perished with the second Death Star, the family was now led by Dulcea, who had since taken her father’s place on the Imperial Ruling Council.
In recent times, Lady Greejatus had essentially become Moff Panaka’s direct link to the Ruling Council. While she had yet to interfere with his governance of the sector, it was nonetheless her that Panaka reported to, and it was through him that she ensured that the planetary leaders in the sector, including Naboo’s current queen, remained loyal to the Empire even as the Ruling Council scrambled to hold onto control.
Panaka respected Lady Greejatus as he did any other member of the Ruling Council. Still, he had to wonder if she had received the same message he had regarding the Emperor’s final orders for Naboo. The fact that the Messenger had directed him to Chommell Minor indicated she must have had some idea… but he still did not know for sure.
As the Torment began its approach of the planet, a communications officer spoke up from the crew pit. “Sir,” he said to Captain Duvat. “Incoming transmission from New Renatasia. Priority one.”
Duvat glanced at Panaka. “Lady Greejatus, perhaps?”
“No doubt.” Panaka looked down to the officer. “Redirect it to my personal office. I will answer it there.”
As the officer complied with the order, Panaka turned and swiftly departed for his office aboard the Torment, located not far from the bridge. As soon as he had closed the door behind him, the holoprojector built into the floor switched on and the life-sized image of a elegantly dressed woman materialized before him.
“Moff Panaka,” Lady Greejatus said in greeting. “I welcome your return to Chommell Minor.”
Panaka nodded stiffly. “I appreciate your hospitality, milady.”
Greejatus smiled thinly, her eyes focused on the Moff. “I take it you have received His Imperial Majesty’s message?”
Panaka swallowed before nodding. “Yes, milady. I was directed here to receive further instructions.”
“And receive them you shall. In a few hours, a deployment of climate disruption arrays shall be delivered to your Star Destroyer.”
Panaka raised an eyebrow. “Climate disruption arrays?”
“I would think their name does not invite for much elaboration,” Greejatus said wryly. “You are to then travel to Naboo and deploy these arrays in the planet’s orbit. Upon activation, they should cause a major shift in Naboo’s climate.”
Panaka cleared his throat, doing everything he could to maintain his professional composure and keep his voice from wavering. “Won’t that bring major devastation to the planet’s surface? The storms that would be caused as a result of such a major shift….”
He trailed off and Lady Greejatus simply stared at him, her narrow features betraying no emotion. “I am aware of what the satellites will do, Moff Panaka,” she said darkly. “If it is the Emperor’s will that they be used, then so it shall be done, yes?”
“Of course,” Panaka said, but it was an automatic response, nothing more. There was a script to be followed when speaking with a member of the Ruling Council and he was not one to deviate from it… even when he wanted to. “I shall ensure that the Emperor’s orders are carried out, milady.”
Greejatus’s smile returned. “The Emperor trusted you, so I have full faith in your capabilities, Moff Panaka. I trust you will not fail us now. Long live the Empire.”
“Long live the Empire,” Panaka rejoined, and the councilor’s holographic image dissolved away.
Left alone to his thoughts, he stepped over to his desk and planted his hands down on it to steady himself, drawing in a deep breath. His ears felt as if they were ringing, and the world around him felt as if it was threatening to spin him away if he so much as lifted his foot.
Was this really how the Emperor intended to repay him for his loyalty? By forcing him to destroy his homeworld? Or was it all just a punishment for failing to prevent his death?
He had failed Palpatine. He had failed Naboo. Maybe this was what he had deserved.
After another moment, he managed to recompose himself. Straightening his uniform, he turned sharply and departed from his office, heading out the bridge to relay his orders to Captain Duvat.
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