Star Wars Endgame: Episode I, Chapter Six

CHAPTER SIX

   If someone were to travel to Mandalore and expect a warm welcoming, they were better off going somewhere else.

   As soon as Wallen and Taaku stepped off their shuttle, a burly Zabrak in Mandalorian Protector armor stormed up to them, carrying an EE-3 carbine rifle. A nasty scowl was plastered on his tan face.

   "Okay," the horned humanoid growled. "Last I heard, there weren't any galactic wars going on. What does the Alliance need from us this time?"

   Wallen cleared his throat. "I am Captain Wallen Nix, detective of GA Intelligence. I have evidence that one of your own is responsible for two murders."

   The Zabrak furrowed his brows. "What kind of evidence?"

   Wallen reached into his pocket and showed the Mandalorian the snippet of wood he had found near Vuren Rackus' corpse. "Look familiar to you?"

   The Zabrak sneered. "Anyone could have carved that out of a tree and plant it to frame us."

   "Well, there aren't any trees on Coruscant," Taaku murmured.

   The Mandalorian snorted and shook his head, but Wallen could tell that he was considering the prospect. "Tell you what," he then said. "I'll humor you. Goran Beviin, Mand'alor's lieutenant is at the Oyu'baat. You can speak with him there about your murder mystery."

   Wallen nodded his thanks and he and Taaku moved through the urban fort-town of Keldabe, brushing past Mandalorian warriors ranging in size, gender, and species. They eventually reached a large, three-story building marked as the Oyu'baat, which Wallen recalled was Mando'a for "universe." In his opinion, they should have called it the Mandalorian word for "old" because it was the most ancient building he had seen in his life.

   The tapcaf/hotel seemed to have been built from wood and stone. Its roof was sloped and tilted, and had a very wide ridgepole jutting out on either side from below it. The building's exterior was chipped and faded with age, and its diversely-designed windows were uneven. The whole place looked ready to fall apart.

   Taaku frowned as he and Wallen approached the building. "Now I know why Mandalore isn't considered a good vacation spot."

   They entered the building and went up the set of stairs that led into the main hall, where booths lined the walls and tables were spread out at intervals. In the center were two long bars- one serving food, the other beverages. The two detectives went up to the latter and ordered two mugs of spiced caf.

   When the female human bartender delivered their drinks, Wallen said, "Do you happen to know where Goran Beviin is?"

   The Mandalorian woman stared at him with a stone-hard face before scanning the crowd with her eyes. Finally, she said, "He's over there, speaking with Benor."

   Wallen followed her gaze to a gray-haired man in blue armor, speaking with a younger human male in silver and red at a table. The two detectives moved towards them and the gray-haired man looked up at them.

   "Can I help you?" Goran Beviin grunted.

   Taking a seat, Wallen explained to him who he was and why he was here before giving him the snippet with the Mandalorian symbol. "Recognize this?" he asked.

   Goran took the snippet and studied it carefully. Then, his eyes widening, he said, "This belonged to a member of Clan Ordo."

   Wallen raised an eyebrow. "How can you tell? It has the general Mandalorian symbol on it."

   "Yes, but it is carved to resemble the insignia of Clan Ordo," Goran replied. "But that doesn't make sense..."

   "How so?"

   "Most of them have died out. The last known living member is Corda Ordo, though no one's seen her in ten years."

   Wallen frowned and exchanged glances with Taaku. The latter then said, "Where was the last anyone saw her?"

   Goran scratched his chin in recollection. "I honestly cannot remember. You'd have to ask Kadar."

   Wallen's face clouded. He recognized that name....

   "Where can we find Kadar?" Taaku asked before he could.

   Goran shrugged. "Heck if I know. He's pretty much went rogue ever since that incident he was involved in."

   "I actually encountered him on Lianna four years ago," Wallen said. "He seemed to be tracking down people connected to Black Sun."

   Goran grunted. "Black Sun, eh? I think I can help you there."

   "You know someone from there?"

   The Mandalorian nodded. "A Feeorin named Scav. He worked for Black Sun while it was under Czethros' command and I've heard rumors that he's one of the current Vigos."

   Wallen nodded. "I see. Do you know where he could be at?"

   "He's got an estate on Odryn, I believe." Goran then frowned. "But I don't think it would be smart for just the two of you to confront him."

   "Why's that?" Taaku asked.

   "Well, from what I've heard, he's in charge of the entire Lok Revenants."

*  *  *

   "Where is Xalren Mithric?"

   The Advozse Vigo, Pol Zurn, looked up at the man threatening him with fearful black eyes. All around him laid demolished combat droids and dead bodyguards. Trembling, he said, "I... I don't know."

   An armored fist struck him hard in the nose. "Strike one," his assailant growled. "Where is Xalren Mithric?"

   "I... the last I spoke with him, he was on Mustafar. But that was seven months ago."

   "Where is he now?"

   "I don't-" Zurn cried as the attacker lifted him up and threw him into the wall. As the Vigo struggled to get back up, he saw the bounty hunter stand over him, casually aiming his blaster rifle.

   "Strike two. This is your last try. Where is Xalren Mithric?"

   "I- Varak knows! He's on Devaron! You can ask him!"

   "Good, because he's next on my list." The bounty hunter lowered his wrist and fired a poison dart from his gauntlet, striking Zurn in the neck. As darkness began to consume the Advozse, he barely saw the white-armored man activate his jetpack and take off.

Star Wars Endgame: Episode I, Chapter Five

CHAPTER FIVE

   Night had fallen on the city of Dreshdae when Jaden Korr landed his starfighter, the Far Wanderer, at the spaceport. Waiting for him there was Zarin Kal, and the two Jedi then set off to begin their investigation.

   "If this guy is targeting Sith relics, then maybe he's also gone to the tombs in the Valley of the Dark Lords," Jaden suggested.

   "Yeah, but they've all been plundered," Zarin replied. "There's nothing of interest in there anymore, unless he likes checking out dead bodies."

   "Maybe there's something we missed and he knows about it."

   Zarin scoffed. "Like what? Palpatine's pedicure set?"

   Jaden chuckled. "Maybe it's not necessarily a relic, but a tomb no one could find or didn't know about."

   "Yeah, that makes this mission a whole lot easier."

   Jaden smirked. "No one ever said it would be easy."

   The Kiffar Jedi sighed, looking around the mildly-populated city of Dreshdae. "We could have at least brought a probe droid along. Maybe they sell some here."

   "You know, Zarin, there's this brilliant thing called the Force and it-"

   "Jaden, if there is indeed a tomb no one knew about over the course of at least five thousand years, then maybe it's hidden from the Force as well."

   "So you think a droid could do better?"

   "Well," Zarin said with a smirk. "We could have it check for terentateks."

*  *  *

   Sal Tyrius, curator of the Diamond Chest on Arkania, hummed to himself as he dusted off one of the valuable artifacts he kept in his store. In a few hours it would be time to open up shop; he could just smell the credits of people eager to buy from him, His fortune would make even the House of Adasca envious if any of them were still around today.

   The moment he had finished dusting the relic, he heard a cold voice speak from behind him.

   "I have the amulet."

   The Arkanian curator smirked and turned his white eyes on the young human male standing at the counter near the entrance. "Wonderful," Tyrius said. "I'm not sure how you managed it, but wonderful."

   "Remember our deal," Varon Krul hissed.

   "Now, now," Tyrius admonished. "First I must check if it's authentic."

   "You cannot fake a Sith amulet."

   Tyrius raised an eyebrow, smiling mirthlessly. "Yes, but is it indeed specifically Vorak Zal's amulet? That right there is the question."

   Krul frowned while the curator brought out a magnifying lens to study the amulet. "How do you know so much about the Sith?"

   "I've long studied the writings of Ingo Wavlud and Murk Lundi," Tyrius replied. "I may not be what you'd call Force-sensitive, but I would be lying if I said I wasn't interested in the Sith."

   Krul seemed skeptical of this statement but did not voice his doubt. Instead, he said, "So, is it...?"

   "Well, it's certainly old enough to have been in Vorak Zal's possession; at least over six thousand years." Setting the amulet down, the Arkanian grinned. "I'd say it's legit."

   "Excellent. Now the holocron."

   Tyrius sighed. "Right, right." 

   He snapped his fingers and a LEP servant droid waddled into the room, carrying a red-glowing pyramidal object. Krul used the Force to summon the holocron into his hands, regarding it with savage glee.

   "I trust you are satisfied?" Tyrius said sardonically.

   "We shall see," Krul said icily before turning on his heels and striding out of the shop.

*  *  *

   "Probe droid, eh?" The Aqualish merchant clicked her tusks. "I've got an old Viper probot with a cracked lens. Or would a Mark Four Sentry suffice?"

   "Whatever you've got, as long as it's efficient," Zarin said.

   "Guess the probot's out of the question," the Aqualish chuckled. She reached behind the counter and brought out a small, round droid colored in black and white. After checking to see it was functional, Zarin paid for the droid and walked out of the shop with it to meet up with Jaden.

   The two Jedi and their droid then made their way out of Dreshdae and into the desert that was the Valley of the Dark Lords. Trudging through the sand, Jaden scanned with the Force, searching for a Sith tomb that wasn't Marka Ragnos' or Tulak Hord's. When he found nothing, he turned to Zarin, who was holding the sentry droid in his arms, waving it outwards like a scanning device.

   Smirking at the somewhat comical scene, Jaden said, "Any luck with that thing?"

   "No," Zarin grunted. "And whatever you do, don't go all 'I-was-right-you-were-wrong' on me. I bet you haven't found anything with the Force either."

   "I'm afraid not, so I guest that makes us-"

   Suddenly, Jaden stopped dead in his tracks. A cold wind passed over the back of his neck. Intuitively, he turned his head to a storm of sand and dust gathering near a temple- a relatively small one compared to the grandiose palaces dedicated to Marka Ragnos and the like.

   Following his gaze, Zarin asked, "Is that it? How did you find it?"

   "I don't know," Jaden replied. "But let's check it out."

   The duo cautiously made their way towards the temple, unhooking their lightsaber hilts from their belts for good measure. The doors leading into the tomb had been left ajar, giving Jaden the feeling that someone else had visited it before; no doubt the person whom they were pursuing.

   As they entered the tomb, a raspy voice instantly hissed out in warning. "Ur-kaa!"

   Zarin grimaced, dropping the sentry droid and igniting his emerald lightsaber blade. "Great. Just like the creepy voice on Begeren."

   "So you are the ones pursuing my comrade," the voice said, now speaking in Basic. A scarlet blade pierced the darkness of the tomb. "Then you are the ones I must eliminate."

   Jaden frowned as he activated his own lightsaber, which had a green glow like Zarin's. "I suppose talking this out is out of the question."

   "My intent was to kill you, and so I shall." The assailant stepped out of the shadows, revealing himself to be an orange-skinned Quarren in black robes. His shimmering blue eyes were narrowed into silts and the mass of tentacles near his fanged mouth quivered slightly.

   "So what are you, exactly?" Zarin asked. "Dark Jedi? Sith?"

   "I am Prodd," the Quarren hissed. "I am your destroyer."

   With that, the dark warrior charged and the two Jedi lunged into battle.

Star Wars Endgame: Episode I, Chapter Four

CHAPTER FOUR

   "Captain Solo?" Wallen knocked again on the door. "Captain Solo, we'd like to speak with you."

   No response. Just like the previous four attempts.

   Standing outside the Solo's apartment with him, Taaku said, "Maybe we shouldn't bother him. He's dealt with many different wars over the course of thirty-seven years."

   "What, so he can't leave Coruscant every once in a while?" Wallen knocked on the door for the fifth time and this time, it finally opened, revealing a gold-colored protocol droid.

   "Hello," it said politely. "I am See-Threepio, human-cyborg relations. How may I help you?"

   "I am Captain Wallen Nix of Galactic Alliance Intel," Wallen said, showing the droid his badge. "Is Captain Han Solo home?"

   "I'm afraid not," C-3PO replied. "He and his wife are vacationing on Naboo. Why do you ask?"

   "Well, I was hoping he would accompany me to Mandaore, which, from what I've heard, he's been to before."

   "Yes, well, I've heard it was not a pleasant visit."

   "I see." Wallen sighed. "Well, thank you anyway."

   With that, he and Taaku walked away from the apartment. As they got back into their airspeeder, Wallen brought out his datapad and reviewed his notes again. Then, to Taaku, he said, "I suppose we should just wing it and see what happens."

   "Hope we don't get out legs broken in the process," Taaku muttered as the airspeeder took off.

*  *  *

   Rays of sunlight shone into the dark room as it slowly creaked open, revealing a young man with dark skin and blue Mandalorian armor. Unsure whether anyone else was inside, he said, "You asked to see me?"

   "Yes, Idris," Atinar Cabur replied, turning on a small light overhead. "Sit down."

   Idris Kyrek moved into his fellow Mandalorian's small abode and sat in the chair across from him. Atinar then leaned forward and made a steeple with his large hands.

   "You are part of Mand'alor's inner circle, correct?" he asked.

   Idris snorted. "I wouldn't say I'm an official member, but I've spoken with him and Goran plenty of times."

   "Right," Atinar muttered. "What's your opinion on him?"

   "Who? Mand'alor?"

   Atinar nodded. "Years from now, long after he's passed, what will people know him as? We've had Mandalore the Indomitable, the Ultimate, and the Vindicated. What do you think he'll be called?"

   Idris shrugged. "I don't know. No Mand'alor has received such a title in nearly a century, save for the Resurrector. Jango Fett, Fenn Shysa, they've never received a title."

   Atinar smirked. "Not yet. But my question still stands."

   Idris sighed and considered it for a moment. Finally, he said, "Mandalore the Reborn? Since he's a clone of Jango Fett."

   "Too literal. Think more of his leadership."

   Idris frowned. "You're insinuating something, aren't you?"

   "I don't know what you mean."

   "You're suggesting a change in leadership."

   Atinar eyed his fellow Mandalorian carefully. "Why do you say that?"

   "You keep speaking of the future, about Mand'alor after he's passed, when he has become history. Why do you bring that up?"

   "Because you're right," Atinar said coldly. "We do need a change. We've been far too reserved since he's taken charge. We're no longer the crusaders we once were."

   "Because of what it cost us three thousand years ago," Idris snapped. "We were beaten and humiliated by the Republic."

   "And even more recently nearly eight centuries ago," Atinar added. "What will stop the Galactic Alliance from doing something similar?"

   Idris frowned again. "We helped them win two wars."

   "And Mandalore the Preserver helped the Republic defeat the Sith," Atinar said pointedly. "In the end, it doesn't matter. In their eyes, we're just right down there with the Hutts."

   Idris sighed, knowing that his fellow Mandalorian had a point. "So what do you propose we do about it?"

   "Leave the planning to me," Atinar said. "I'll radio you to carry out the execution... if you're with me, that is."

   "I... I'll think about it," Idris said, rising from his seat.

   "Fair enough. But this conversation is completely confidential, understand?"

   "Yes," Idris muttered as he strode out the door. "Understood."

*  *  *

   The murderer of Loth Ja'far and Vuren Rackus watched as the two detectives' airspeeder took off for the spaceport, aware of their planned destination. An opportunity had arisen to eliminate them then and there, but it was not taken so to not create a scene.

   And because he still had honor.

   Rising to his feet, the murderer turned to return to his ship. Even if the detectives did find enough clues leading to him, his mission would be finished by then and he would be relaxing on Kaal under a different name.

   Checking his list of targets, he saw that only five remained, four of them being Vigos- or lieutenants- of Black Sun. And only one of them, being the "eldest", would lead him to the fifth- the Underlord, Xalren Mithric.

   He smiled mirthlessly. The countdown had begun.

Star Wars Endgame: Episode I, Chapter Three

CHAPTER THREE

   "The Sith amulet was missing when we opened Vorak Zal's coffin," said the shimmering hologram of Narrakar Von as he "stood" before five members of the Jedi Council on Ossus. "This can only mean that someone's visited the tomb before we did, though we could find no such signs of previous entry."

   "Perhaps the amulet was never there in the first place," said Master Noran Raun. "The authenticity of the record we found was never confirmed."

   "It had to have been there," Master Von muttered. "Why else would a relatively minor detail crop up?"

   "Do you have any clues on who could have took the amulet and where they could have gone?" asked Kro Sadoon, the Kel Dor Grand Master of the Jedi Order.

   "I had Zarin Kal use his psychometry abilities on parts of the tomb, but could find no more than an inkling that someone has been here before."

   "Have you been to the other Sith worlds?" Master Gaaraddik growled in the Wookiee tongue. 

   Narrakar nodded, "Yes, nearly all of them. Korriban, Dromund Kaas, Bosthirda... it's been a dangerous mission, but we've either secured or destroyed several relics."

   "Very good, Master Von," Kro Sadoon said. "You have done a thorough job to ensure that the Sith do not become a major threat ever again in the near future. You and the others may return to Ossus."

   The Nikto Jedi Master bowed before his hologram fizzled out, leaving the five councilors in silence. Master Taana Di then turned to the others and said, "What shall we do concerning the missing amulet?"

   "We have nothing to go off of," Noran said. "Odds are it's a rogue Force-user seeking to become the next Dark Lord. But we've done enough work to prevent such a wannabe from obtaining power."

   "Nevertheless, it should be something to keep an eye out for," said Master Cilghal, who had recently joined the council a few months ago. "Perhaps it isn't the Sith and instead a new threat. We must not be caught unaware like we did when the Glorians invaded."

   The others nodded solemnly at her words, recalling the terrible war that had ended a mere three years ago.

   "I shall find someone to investigate," Noran finally said. "We cannot take any chances with this mystery thief."

   "Indeed," Sadoon murmured. "We needn't accidentally doom the entire galaxy again...."

*  *  *

   "Try soup. Soup good."

   Jaden Korr sighed. The old Veknoid merchant had been following him through the market plaza for at least ten minutes now, demanding that he try his soup. But Jaden was not exactly in the mood for raw, probably month-old dewback meat.

   "Try soup. Soup good for you."

   "Thanks, but I already ate," Jaden said, knowing it would not do much good. He had already tired influencing the Veknoid's mind with the Force but that obviously had not worked either.

   "Need more food," the merchant insisted, now at Jaden's side, trying to force the steaming bowl into his face. "Soup give you energy. Try soup."

   "I'm allergic to dewback meat," Jaden lied. "Try finding someone else to eat it, like... like that Gamorrean over there."

   The short, two-horned alien laughed sharply. "You need soup more than pig. Eat soup."

   Jaden opened his mouth to retort but was cut off by the beep of his comlink. Answering it, he said, "Korr, here."

   It was Master Noran Raun who responded. "Jaden, are you still on Vaklin?"

   "Yes, Master Raun. I've found the Tome of Khen Reo, but it seems like the other Jedi artifacts here were destroyed."

   "I figured as much. Anyway, I have a new mission for you, one that takes a complete turn of what you've been doing."

   Jaden raised an eyebrow. "Go on...."

   "A Sith amulet, believed to have been on Begeren, is missing. We theorize that whoever stole it has been to other Sith worlds. You and your fellow Knight Zarin Kal are to go to Korriban and find clues leading to the thief."

   Jaden mused over this. He figured Zarin would be be going because of his psychometric abilities, but why him as well?

   As if reading Jaden's mind even from Ossus, Noran said, "You have a fair balance between your dark side and light side powers. By accompanying Zarin to the homeworld of the Sith, you can protect him and yourself from the temptation of the ancient spirits there. And if you succeed in that, the council may elevate you to the rank of Master."

   Jaden nodded. "I understand, Master. I'll be on my way."

   "Good. May the Force be with you."

   As Jaden ended the connection, he turned back to the Veknoid, who was still standing there with his soup.

   "You Jedi?" the alien merchant asked.

   "Yes, I am," Jaden replied. "Didn't you notice me trying to mind trick you?"

   "Of course," the Veknoid said with a toothy grin. "I just thought you amateur."

   With that, the old merchant turned around and waddled away with his soup. Jaden merely shook his head as he turned to head back for his starfighter.

*  *  *

   Baleful yellow eyes watched as the Z-95 Headhunter departed from Vaklin. Rising from his position, he said to the Veknoid standing next to him, "You say he's headed for Korriban?"

   The alien nodded. "With other Jedi."

   Tapping his chin, the man said, "Patch me through to Prodd."

   The Veknoid brought out a comlink and entered a frequency before handing it to the human male he accompanied.

   "Prodd, this is Krul," the man said. "Two Jedi are headed for Korriban. They might find evidence of my visit."

   "And you want me to kill them," Prodd said bluntly.

   Krul smirked. "I'm glad we're on the same page. Think you can handle them?"

   "Do you underestimate me, Varon Krul?"

   "I'll take that as a yes. Krul out." Ending the connection, the man then turned back to his Veknoid partner. "Prepare the ship. We're leaving."

Star Wars Endgame: Episode I, Chapter Two

CHAPTER TWO

   Captain Wallen Nix, detective for the Galactic Alliance Intelligence Service, frowned at the dead Bothan laying before him. In the corner of the apartment room was the man's Mirialan fiancée, who was sobbing uncontrollably while Wallen's partner, Taaku, tried to calm her down.

   The Coruscant police had already investigated the scene, indicated by the laser outline surrounding the Bothan's corpse, as well as the warning signs placed in the room and outside the complex. But they clearly did not find anything, or else they would not have called in a detective like Wallen.

   Skimming the notes he had put down on his datapad, Wallen turned to the Mirialan and said, "Did Loth Ja'far have any rivals at work? Or any sort of enemies?"

   Her blue eyes brimmed with tears, the Mirialan said, "He was just an accountant! Who would make enemies with an accountant?"

   Wallen frowned. "Just thought I'd ask. Did Ja'far have any hobbies or other work?"

   The green-skinned woman bit her nails. "He did like to visit the Outlander Club to relieve stress from work, but I almost always accompanied him, and he didn't seem to have any trouble there."

   After typing in a few more notes on his datapad, Wallen said, "One last thing, and I'm sure you've already told the police this, but how long have you known Ja'far?"

   "Five years," the Mirialan sniffled.

   Nodding solemnly, Wallen asked the woman for her name, thanked her for her services, and gave his condolences before leaving the apartment with Taaku. As the two of them headed for their airspeeder outside, Wallen's Rodian partner said, "You don't suppose she could've killed him, do you?"

   Wallen smirked. "The first suspect is rarely the right one. Let's head for the Outlander Club and find some clues there. She did say that she only 'almost' always went with Ja'far."

   Departing from the complex, the airspeeder made its way towards the Uscru Entertainment District, parking at Vos Gesal Street right before the Outlander Club itself. The bar had changed significantly following its shutdown during the Empire's reign. It was now quieter, less packed, and with not nearly as many neon lights.

   As the two detectives entered the club, they were instantly hounded by a Xexto death stick dealer, but he immediately ran off when Wallen brandished his badge. He and Taaku then made their way towards the counter, where an Amani bartender greeted them.

   "What will it be?" the tall and lanky planarian hissed.

   "Information," Wallen said. "A Bothan named Loth Ja'far tended to visit here, did he not?"

   The Amani's red eyes narrowed, his long, thin mouth frowning. "Why don't you ask him yourself?"

   "He's dead," Wallen replied. "We're trying to find who killed him. His fiancee, Myra Kishanti, said he often came here."

   "Not while I was at work," the bartender said. "I work the day shift. You can try talking to the night shift manager. He's a Twi'lek called Vuren Rackus. Lives near the Galactic Market."

   Wallen nodded and thanked the Amani for his info before grudgingly giving a credi-chip to the bartender for "wasting his time." As the duo walked out of the club, he quietly said to Taaku, "Make sure I don't throw out the entire contents of my pockets just to find a murderer, no matter what I say."

   "I'll try," the Rodian replied.

*  *  *

   Careful... careful...

   Vuren Rackus bit his lip as he tried to steady the delicate model ship he had just finished. He had long been a fan of ship designs, particularly ones used by the Old Republic that were no longer in service.

   The latest of his creations, the paint having just dried, was the Endar Spire, a Hammerhead-class cruiser that crashed on Taris during the Jedi Civil War. With patience and caution, he finally fit the model next to those of the Diligence and the Leviathan. Satisfied with himself, Rackus stepped back and brushed off his hands, admiring his work.

   Then there was a knock at the door.

   Rackus cried out as the room shook slightly, enough to cause the Endar Spire model to slide off its shelf and crash to the floor, becoming a pile of dust.

   "Spawn of a murglak!" Rackus screamed. "I've been working on that for nearly a year!" He stormed over to the door and opened it to confront the wrongdoer. "What the kark? Don't you know there's a buzzer? I'd outta-"

   He went silent when the barrel of a blaster pressed against his head. A shot from the rifle ensured his silence for good.

*  *  *

   "This is bad."

   Wallen sighed as he crouched down next to the dead Twi'lek. "Thank you for being the master of understatements, Taaku. But that's not necessarily a bad thing. Got any others?"

   "Uh, sure," the Rodian said, unsure if Wallen was being sarcastic. "Maybe the murderer's onto us and is eliminating any possible connections."

   "That's very plausible," Wallen said. "But then why would he or she leave a clue behind?"

   "Huh?"

   Wallen stood up and showed Taaku a snippet of wood he had found next to Rackus' body. Carved into it was a symbol that vaguely resembled a skull of some sort.

   Scrutinizing it, Taaku said, "Is that...?"

   Wallen nodded. "The Mandalorian symbol. Clearly our murderer has something to do with them."

   "So what do you suppose we do? Just go to Mandalore and start throwing out random accusations?"

   "Well, we have to start somewhere."

   "Yeah, but we don't know the first thing of interacting with Mandalorians."

   "True," Wallen murmured. "But I might know someone who does."

Star Wars Endgame: Episode I, Chapter One

STAR WARS: ENDGAME

Episode I: The Elusive Shadow

CHAPTER ONE

   The Sith world of Begeren came into clear view as the Imperial II-class Star Destroyer dropped out of hyperspace. Standing on the bridge of the Harbinger, Admiral Trebor Horan viewed the planet with mild relish. 

   For the past few days, he had been transporting a team of six Jedi to worlds in the Esstran sector to locate forgotten Sith relics and either confiscate or destroy them. Now, with Begeren being one of their last stops, this "Sith purge" was coming to an end and soon the galaxy would never have to worry about another Palpatine or Darth Vorath.

   Force willing, he thought. Speaking into the ship's intercom, Admiral Horan said, "Master Von, we have arrived in the Begeren system. Are you and your team ready for drop out?"

   "As always, admiral," Jedi Master Narrakar Von replied. "Wish us luck."

   "Indeed, and may the Force be with you."

   A few minutes later, a Sentinel-class landing craft disembarked from the Harbinger and headed towards the planet below.

*  *  *

   "What troubles you, young Koria?"

   Sitting with the other five Jedi of the "Sith purge" team in the landing craft, Koria Tyrnak looked up at Master Narrakar Von and frowned. "We're sitting in an Imperial ship."

   "So I've noticed."

   "Doesn't it feel strange to you?"

   "Not to me personally, but I can see how it could be to some," Von said. "But keep in mind, the Imperial Remnant is no longer our enemy, but our ally. It's been that way for fourteen years and counting."

   "They've oppressed us for longer than that," Koria retorted, folding her arms across her chest. "And they were responsible for our near-extinction. I wouldn't be surprised if they performed a total flip."

   "Be mindful of your feelings," warned Master Jomesh. "You may not notice it yet, but Begeren is a world tainted by the dark side. There could very well be powers that could influence the mind."

   Koria scowled but remained silent as the landing craft completed its descent towards Begeren, settling in a desolated desert not far from the capital city. The desert itself was dotted with light blue gemstones, forming constellations that could be viewed from orbit. 

   As the six Jedi disembarked from the ship, Zarin Kal said, "What artifact are we looking for?"

   "A Sith amulet carried by the ancient Dark Lord Vorak Zal," Von replied. "Not many records of him exist; the only one we could find mentioned that it was he who conquered Begeren for the Old Sith Empire and was later killed here, before being encased within a tomb."

   "Wait," Valisa Tor murmured. "You mean we're going to loot an amulet from a dead body?"

   "If the record is legit, yes. The tomb should be right under... here."

   Von brought out his lightsaber, igniting its blue blade, and plunged it into the ground. The others watched as he carved out a circle and then used the Force to push the slab of sandy stone down, creating an entrance to a wide underground chamber.

   "How did you know the tomb was underground?" Zarin asked.

   "The record contained a riddle that told of an underground tomb." The Red Nikto's facial flaps flattened down in a smile. "Granted, it took several great minds to figure it out."

   With that, Narrakar Von jumped down into the tomb, followed shortly by Masters Jomesh and Dia'han. Zarin and the others exchanged glances before jumping down as well.

*  *  *

   Eyah seh maat, shu kor huaan.

   The soothing whisper followed the Jedi as they made their way through the underground tomb. None of them knew its meaning, but they could tell it was an urge not to be heeded. It was the dark side beckoning them.

   Zarin's eyes scanned the tomb. There was not much to write home about: dusty tablets with faded text littered the ground; primitive blades and spears were lined up on the walls like a display; and rubble of forgotten statues piled up in cobweb-covered corners. Out of all the tombs he had visited- which were not many- this had to be the dullest.

   The six of them finally reached a dusty, closed casket. Signalling the others to keep back, Von used the Force to slowly raise the lid of the coffin.

   Ur-kaa! Haa, neyo la yud masur kee-

   "Is there anyway to shut that stupid voice up?" Koria snapped.

   Master Von beckoned for silence as he placed the lid onto the floor. His lightsaber at the ready, the Nikto Jedi Master carefully stepped towards the casket... and froze.

   "What is it?" Master Dia'han asked concernedly. 

   "It's gone," Von murmured. "The amulet is no longer here."

   "Is the body still there?" Jomesh asked.

   "Yes, but it won't do much good for us."

   "Wait," Valisa said. "Zarin is a Kiffar. Could he use psychometry to-?"

   "No," Von said sternly. "Not only is it immoral to read the memories of the dead, but this corpse belonged to a Dark Lord of the Sith. Merely by being here are we exposed to its dark side energies."

   "So that's it then?" Koria asked. "We came all this way for nothing?"

   "This means far worse than that, young Koria," Von said. "This means that someone besides us has been procuring Sith relics."

   "The question, of course, is," Jomesh muttered, "are they doing so with us... or against us?"

Transformers Regenerated: Unicron Saga VI, Chapter Eleven & Epilogue

CHAPTER ELEVEN

   Trypticon stood over the fallen Metroplex, poised to end the ancient Titan's life. His mouth opened as his primary cannon charged up. If Metroplex was to die here and now, then the Autobots would be ridden of what little hope they had.

   Suddenly, he froze. Through his peripheral vision, he took notice of the conflict between Megatron and an Autobot on the Interstate Bridge. The latter stood over the former, ready to execute him.

   Something deep within Trypticon stirred. Memories flooded into his mind like an uncontrollable wave. Optronix storming onto the bridge... firing his fusion cannon... declaring himself ruler of the Decepticons...

   Trypticon then let out a low growl. Forgetting his fight with Metroplex, he turned towards the Interstate Bridge....

*  *  *

   As Optimus Prime weighed his options- to execute his brother here and now or to let him go and spread more terror- the choice was quickly taken out of his hands as a large shadow fell over them. He and Megatron both turned to see Trypticon towering over them.

   "Trypticon!" Megatron bellowed as he got to his feet. "Have you finished the Metroplex?"

   "No," Trypticon growled. "I have more pressing matters to attend to."

   "What? I am your lord and master! You cannot defy me!"

   "Like you did me, Optronix?"

   Megatron's eyes widened at the mention of his previous name, which Trypticon had never been informed of. Before either he or Optimus could react, Trypticon swung his tail and tore the Interstate Bridge from its supports, sending the two brothers flying. As they landed roughly onto the ground, the Decepticon beast roared and lunged towards Megatron with his open maw, prepared to devour the Decepticon leader as he had Zeta Prime.

   Before he could act out on his rage however, Trypticon was suddenly grabbed from behind by Metroplex, who had gotten back to his feet.

   "No harm shall come to the true Prime," the Titan said coldly.

   Trypticon roared and swung around to face Metroplex. Just as he was about to attack, the beast suddenly seized up while energy began to crackle through him. His orange optics flickered before losing their color, and his massive body slowly fell to the ground. Once it had landed, everything on the battlefield was still and silent.

   Optimus Prime stared at the fallen Trypticon in shock before turning to Megatron, who was merely scowling.

   "I suppose some beasts were not meant to be unleashed," the Decepticon leader muttered. Rising to his feet, he glanced between Optimus, Metroplex, and his remaining forces, before finally sighing.

   "Consider this battle over, Optimus Prime," he said, speaking the name in a spiteful tone. "You have won today, but it will not end here. There will be another time."

   Optimus nodded, his face devoid of expression. "And we will be waiting."

   Snarling, Megatron turned on his heels and barked at his men to return to the Nemesis. After throwing Optimus and the Autobots one last glare, he followed them and in short time, the Decepticon forces had left Cybertron.

   Once the warships had all left, the Autobots all turned to stare in awe at Optimus Prime and Metroplex.

   "Orion?" Ultra Magnus said, breaking the silence. "Is that you?"

   "Yes," Optimus murmured. "Though I am no longer Orion Pax. I am Optimus Prime." As he said this, Optimus opened his chest compartment to reveal the glowing Matrix of Leadership.

   "So, I guess that prophecy was kind of true," said Ironhide, accompanied by Bumblebee, Sideswipe, Mirage, and Beta Maxx. "Beta did find the real Matrix, but not so he could become Prime."

   "It's just as well," Beta Maxx said. "From what I've heard of you, Orion -- Optimus -- you are far better suited to lead than I am."

   "I would like to disagree," Optimus said. "But I suppose the choice is out of my hands."

   "I'm sure you will prove to be a great leader," Ultra Magnus said, placing a reassuring hand on Optimus' shoulder. "Certainly better than Zeta, at least."

   Optimus smirked behind his mouthplate. "I never would have expect someone such as you say something like that."

   Ultra Magnus cleared his ventilation system. "Yes, well, I've been meaning to say that for a while now."

   "So what do we do now, er, boss-bot?" asked Bumblebee.

   "Start cleaning up Iacon, for starters," Optimus said. "We may not be able to restore it to its former glory, but we can at least make it somewhat better than this."

   "What about Trypticon's corpse there?" Jazz asked.

   "I shall dispose of Trypticon personally," Metroplex said. "Would the Rust Sea suffice?"

   "I say you take him straight into the sun," muttered Kup. "But if ya' can't handle the heat, then..."

   "Take him to the planet Dread and leave him there for the shrikebats to feed on," Optimus said. "If he ever wakes up again, he probably won't have enough of a body left to move."

   Metroplex nodded and picked up Trypticon's body before activating the thrusters on his back and blasting off into the sky. The Autobots down below watched him leave before setting off to repair their ruined city.

*  *  *

   I still function.

   The spark of Trannis awoke in the shell of Trypticon. He could not move or feel, but could see the Titan carrying him clearly. Metroplex no doubt knew that he was still alive, but also knew that the former Decepticon leader could do nothing to show it.

   It was just as well, Trannis thought. He was far away now from his primary objective: to kill Megatron.

   But don't worry, Megatron. Even if it takes decades, centuries, or a millennia,, I will find you and-

   Suddenly, Metroplex froze. Trannis glanced up at him in bemusement and became even more puzzled when the Titan released him.

   "Must find the Knights."

   And in a flash, he was gone, leaving the body of Trypticon to drift out aimlessly in space.

EPILOGUE

   "Darn," Swerve said as he, Windblade, Perceptor, and the others surveyed the ruins of Iacon while disembarking from Wing Saber's ship. "We missed out on all the fun."

   "Got that right," muttered Ironhide as he carried a piece of rubble pass them. "Feel free to give us a hand, if you've got any."

   Chromia promptly took the piece of rubble from Ironhide, tossed it to the ground, and stomped on it until it was nothing but pebbles.

   Ironhide let out an impressed whistle. "Wow. Can you teach me that trick?"

   Chromia grinned. "Sure thing."

   As she and most of the others set off to work, Wing Saber turned to Windblade, eying the blade his brother Wing Dagger had given them.

   "I take it you're gonna find Alpha Trion and give that to him?" he asked.

   "What else am I supposed to do with it?" Windblade snapped. "Play darts with it?"

   Ignoring Wing Saber's stammering response, Windblade converted to her jet mode and flew through the damaged city until she came across Alpha Trion speaking with his Mini-Con counterpart Beta Maxx. As she transformed and landed before him, the old historian turned to her and smiled.

   "Hello there, young Autobot," he said. "Shouldn't you be helping in the reconstruction?"

   Windblade said nothing and instead handed him the bladed object. Alpha Trion's optics widened at the sight.

   "Where and how did you gt this?" he demanded as he took it.

   "A member of the Circle of Light gave it to me," Windblade said. "He said that you would know what to do with it."

   Alpha Trion slowly nodded. "Yes, I do. Thank you, miss..."

   "Windblade," she answered, smiling as she turned to leave. "And don't mention it."

*  *  *

   Ignoring the typical babble of the Decepticon medic as they repaired him, Megatron stared off into space. The only thing that currently passed through his head was the name he had come to despise above all others: Optimus Prime.

   Although he had initially portrayed indifference towards Orion Pax's adoption of the name, he slowly started to feel spite towards it. Part of it was jealousy over Orion taking it for himself, but most of it was the dread and grief it would no doubt bring him in times to come. And since Orion was, after all, his "counterpart" as Autobot leader, they would be encountering each other several times as the war went on.

   The moment the medic finished repairing his fusion cannon arm, Megatron wrenched it free from the doctor's tender car and proceeded to crush their head with his hand. Rising from his command chair, he scowled as the Nemesis approached New Kaon, the Decepticon capital.

   The days of our brotherhood are over, Optimus Prime. From this day forward, and until one of us falls, we shall wage our eternal war. And I promise you, "brother," I shall walk over your cold, offline husk to claim victory. 

   It shall forever be between you and me.

*  *  *

   As the gleaming star of Hadean brought forth a new dawn over Iacon, Optimus Prime stood on the precipice of a small cliff on the outskirts of the city, watching the sunrise.

   "I suppose war cannot destroy all beauty."

   Optimus turned to see Alpha Trion walking towards him, with Beta Maxx hovering at his side. The Autobot leader smiled behind his mouthplate.

   "It seems so," he said. "But if war continues to distract us from such beauties, it matters little in the end."

   Alpha Trion smiled as he stood besides Optimus. "Remember to keep your hopes up," he said. "Keep up the optimism that is in your name. With all of the duties you now have as a leader, you're going to need it now more than ever."

   Optimus sighed. "Why did the Matrix have to choose me though? Why not someone with actual leadership experience like Ultra Magnus or Thunderclash... or even you?"

   The Autobot sage placed an arm on his shoulder. "It chose you because of the very fact that you did not want it."

   Optimus gave him a puzzled look. "What?"

   "Even the best of us deep down craves power, and the Matrix embodies that power. So who better to wield it than someone who desires to use it only to bring peace?"

   As Optimus pondered on his words, both Autobots turned to watch the rising sun.

   "Troubled times are drawing near and rough roads fast approach you, Optimus Prime. Ultimately, only you will be able to guide yourself through them."

   With that, Alpha Trion and his Mini-Con companion turned to leave, and Optimus Prime stood alone to watch the rising dawn.

END OF BOOK II: DAWN OF THE AUTOBOTS