Star Wars Destiny Chronicles: Jedi Archives / Darksiders -- Holocrons of Jedi and Sith

This is something that will be updated periodically, since there are... quite a few holocrons.

HOLOCRONS

    Holocrons are devices created by Jedi to contain endless quantities of data and information. By nature, they can only be opened by individuals sensitive to the Force and are protected by a holographic gatekeeper representing the creator of the holocron itself. Below are some of the most notable of the holocrons found in the Jedi Archives.

JEDI HOLOCRONS

The Tedryn Holocron

    This holocron was created well over four thousand years before the Battle of Yavin by Jedi Master Tedryn. The holocron was passed down for several generations, with Masters Odan-Urr and Ood Bnar adding their own records, before ending up in the possession of Master Vodo-Siosk Baas by the time of the Great Sith War. The holocron contained records pertaining not only to the Jedi but to their dark side counterparts, the Sith, as well.

    After the Sith War, the Jedi Council kept the holocron hidden at an undisclosed location to keep it away from the wrong hands. As a result, it was preserved from the horrors that would wrack the galaxy, in particular the fall of the Jedi Temple in 4324 C.R.C. At some point after the New Sith Wars, the Tedryn Holocron was recovered and passed on to Jedi Master Bodo Baas, a distant descendant of Vodo-Siosk.

    In 7958, Bodo Baas was captured by the Empire during the Great Jedi Purge. When he refused to give up the holocron's location, Darth Sidious executed the Krevaaki before finding the holocron in the possession of Jedi Master Ashka Boda. Master Boda was eventually captured and killed as well and the holocron was retrieved from his belongings. Sidious then delved into the holocron to learn the secret of transferring one's consciousness from one body to another, a technique that had been lost to the Sith over five hundred years prior.

    The Tedryn Holocron was kept on the Emperor's secret throne world of Byss when he met his demise in 7982. The ancient Sith Lord Darth Vorath, having waited several decades to make his move, wasted no time in traveling to Byss to recover the holocron from the late Emperor's collection. While there, he came across a cadre of clone bodies which Sidious had planned to transfer his consciousness into. Vorath awakened one of these clones to serve his purposes; however, the clone resisted the Dark Lord's attempts at warping his mind and fled from the chamber. Drawn to the Tedryn Holocron, the rogue clone recovered it from Sidious' library before departing Byss. A year later, the clone -- now calling himself Ethril -- traveled to Tython where he encountered Luke Skywalker. After a quick confrontation with the Jedi Knight, Ethril was struck down and the holocron was eventually recovered from his vessel. 

    When the New Jedi Order was established, the holocron was entrusted with Master Xanus Baran, who brought it with him to Zegris during his search for Morin Tharr. When Baran was recalled to the Jedi Praxeum, he passed it on to his replacement for the mission, Master Aqinos. Around this time, Vorath sent his Shadow Hands Nemesis and Ravage to take back the holocron and determined it to be on Zegris. When confronted by the Sith, Aqinos surrendered the holocron to the pair, who brought it back to Vorath. 

    However, the Dark Lord quickly discovered that the holocron's contents could only be accessed by a Jedi. Thus, he sent his acolyte Starkiller to retrieve Skywalker's apprentice Toah Jarsan and bring him to Sed'tral. After being captured, Jarsan reluctantly activated the holocron and accessed the Prophecy of the Apocalypse, which Vorath believed pertained to him and his goals. After hearing the prophecy, Vorath allowed Jarsan to leave before locking the holocron away in his archive on Sed'tral.

SITH HOLOCRONS

Holocron of King Adas

Created under the guidance of the Rakata, King Adas's holocron was passed on from Sith to Sith for several generations after his demise. By the time of the Great Hyperspace War, the holocron had ended up in the possession of Lord Garu when he perished on Ashas Ree. Six centuries later, the holocron was recovered by the fallen Jedi Freedon Nadd, providing him with the knowledge he sought of the ancient Sith. After conquering Onderon and declaring himself Dark Lord of the Sith, Nadd held onto the holocron until his death, after which it was recovered by his descendant Queen Amanoa, which she used to train her Sith initiates. After the Naddist Uprising, the holocron was recovered by the Jedi and hidden away on the planet Kodai, where it would remain for the next several millennia.

Sometime before 167 BBY, Darth Tenebrous and his master attempted to locate Adas's holocron, which they knew to be located in the Belderone sector. Whether their attempts were successful or not has yet to be documented, though the holocron was still on Kodai when it was uncovered by Professor Murk Lundi and his disciples. Upon hearing of the holocron's discovery, Darth Sidious sent a Sun Guard operative to retrieve it. However, the Guard ultimately failed and the holocron was once more taken into Jedi custody. For reasons unknown, the Jedi Council entrusted the holocron with House Pelagia of the Tapani sector, who held onto it until was stolen by the Mecrosa Order during the Great Jedi Purge.

Forty years later, following the end of the Imperial Sith War, the aspiring Sith Lady Lumiya traveled to Nyssa and acquired the holocron of Adas from the Mecrosa Order. A decade later, the Glorian agent Shadow traveled to Nyssa to retrieve the holocron himself only to discover that it had already been given to Lumiya. What became of the holocron after Lumiya's reign as Dark Lady of the Sith was ended is unknown.

Holocron of Heresies

The holocron of Darth Andeddu, the Holocron of Heresies was believed to have been first discovered by Freedon Nadd some time before his reign as Dark Lord of the Sith. In 980 BBY, it was recovered from Andeddu’s Keep on Prakith by Darth Bane before being stolen by the fallen Jedi Set Harth. By the time of the Clone Wars, it had found its way to Korriban where it was recovered by Darth Tyranus' acolytes. It later founds its way into the possession of Darth Vorath, who would later use it to gain access to Andeddu's Keep.

AUTHOR FOOTNOTES

    -The Tedryn Holocron first appeared in the Dark Empire comic series and received further backstory in Tales of the Jedi and supplementary material. When I wrote its appearance in Destiny, where it was already in Jedi hands by 10 ABY, I had forgotten that it was supposed to still be on Byss in Palpatine's collection. I decided to reconcile this by using the minor character Ethril, a rogue clone of Palpatine, as the catalyst for this deviation.

Star Wars Destiny Chronicles: Jedi Archives - Chief Librarians of the Jedi Archives

 CHIEF ARCHIVISTS OF THE JEDI ORDER

The Chief Archivist is the primary Jedi Lore Keeper who oversees the collection of Force-related knowledge and maintains the Archives of the Jedi Temple. The position was created following the fall of the Great Jedi Library on Ossus in order to recollect the information that was lost and to ensure its future safety. While some prospective Jedi may view such as position to be “boring” or mundane, it is nonetheless a valuable position within the ranks of the Order and those who hold it are greatly respected for their duty.

Atris (-3951 BBY)

Atris served as both Chief Librarian and a member of the Jedi Council during the Mandalorian Wars and the Second Sith War that followed. An icy human woman, Atris was a conservative Jedi and a strong advocate for restrictive policies — such as forbidding romantic attachments and limiting the number of apprentices a Master could take at one time — in the hopes of preventing the rise of another Sith Lord. For all of her arrogance however, the Sith eventually did return in the form of Darth Revan and Darth Malak.

Although Revan was eventually redeemed and Malak defeated, the Sith remained a threat to the Republic. Four years after the Second Sith War, Jedi were being hunted down and killed by a mysterious force. In the hopes of drawing out this unseen evil, Atris called for a convocation of Jedi on the planet Katarr and secretly leaked the location of the meeting. It was Atris’ belief that the sheer number of Jedi present at Katarr would be enough to vanquish whatever dark force was hunting the Jedi. Unfortunately, that force turned out to be Darth Nihilus, who proceeded to overwhelm the Jedi and ravage the planet of Katarr, killing all of the Jedi who were present.

As one of the few remaining Jedi survivors, Atris went into hiding on the planet Telos Four, starting a secret Jedi academy and training a group of Echani half-sisters in the hopes of one day rebuilding the Jedi Order. A year after the disaster at Katarr, the Jedi Exile Meetra Surik came to Telos in search of the lost Jedi. Atris, who had once been close friends with Surik before the latter had joined the Revanchists in the Mandalorian Wars, had a bitter reunion with the Exile but eventually agreed to help her in her quest. Conflicted with self-doubt over her past decisions, Atris was manipulated by Kreia — in fact the Sith Lord Darth Traya — into embracing the fact that she had betrayed the Jedi and in turn had been betrayed by herself. Taking on the name “Darth Traya” for herself, Atris later clashed with Surik when the latter returned to Telos but was eventually defeated by the Jedi Exile. Seeing the error of her ways, Atris elected to exile herself from the Jedi Order and remained in the custody of her own sanctum until she could be judged by the reformed Jedi Council, just as Surik had been judged by her many years ago.    

Mical (after 3951 BBY)

Born on a colony world in the Mid Rim, Mical was brought to the Jedi Enclave on Dantooine to be trained in the ways of the Force. During his time there, he was tutored by Meetra Surik, whom he greatly admired and hoped would one day take him on as her apprentice. However, by the time Mical was ready to be fully trained, Surik had gone off to fight against the Mandalorians. With no Master available to train him, Mical ended up serving in the Galactic Republic as an intelligence operative.

After the Second Sith War and the Jedi Purge that followed, Mical took it upon himself to preserve the knowledge of the Jedi in the hopes their Order could one day be rebuilt. He eventually crossed paths with his old mentor Meetra Surik and joined her in her mission to defeat the Sith Triumvirate. In the aftermath of the Dark Wars, Mical and the rest of Surik’s companions helped see to the rebuilding of the Jedi Order, even after Surik herself departed to find Revan. In time, Mical became Chief Archivist of the rebuilt Jedi Archives and would eventually take a seat on the new Jedi Council. 

Irma Yorr (fl. 3699-3681 BBY)

Gnost-Dural (fl. 3653 BBY)

A Kel Dor from the planet Dorin, Gnost-Dural was trained in the ways of the Force by Jedi Knight Zane Carran. By the time Gnost-Dural was knighted, the Sith Empire had reemerged from hiding and commenced its invasion on the Republic. In the early years of the Great Galactic War, Gnost-Dural led the Republic on the front-lines against the Sith, although he would often petition the Jedi Council to let him return to Coruscant and conduct research on the Sith at the Archives in the hopes of determining who was behind the resurgent Sith Empire and how the Jedi would be able to stop him.

Eventually, the Council heeded his wishes and Gnost-Dural went straight to the work, tracing the Sith’s history from the fall of the Sith Triumvirate all the way to the Hundred Year Darkness. He eventually reached the conclusion that the Sith Emperor behind the invading Sith force was the ancient Dark Lord Naga Sadow, back from the dead, though this theory would later be debunked when further knowledge on the Sith Emperor’s nature was discovered decades later.

Following the Sacking of Coruscant, Gnost-Dural migrated to Tython with the rest of the Jedi Order and was eventually named Chief Librarian and Lore Keeper of the new Jedi Archives, continuing his studies and research. At some point he took on the Falleen woman Kana Terrid as his apprentice, though she would later fall to the dark side while infiltrating the ranks of the Sith Empire and becoming the Sith Lord Darth Karrid. In 3640 BBY, Gnost-Dural was forced to confront his former Padawan while aiding Republic agent Theron Shan on a mission to stop Darth Karrid’s superweapon, the Ascendant Spear.

When the Eternal Empire emerged from the Unknown Regions and attacked both the Republic and the Empire, the Jedi Order’s numbers were left thinned. Gnost-Dural, one of the few surviving members of the Jedi Council, established a secret colony on Ossus along with Jedi Master Tau Idair. In 3628 BBY, he and the colony accepted the help of Eternal Alliance commander Larisa in fending off the Sith Empire’s invasion on Ossus.

Tolada Boorr (3542-3439 BBY)

A female Ithorian, Tolada Boorr was one of the oldest sitting members of the Jedi Council by the time of the Desolation War, having served as Chief Librarian for a century. Master Boorr was infamous among Jedi learners for her droning voice and tendency to go into great detail about historic events, earning her the nickname “Master Bore” among younglings and Padawans. Regardless of how Jedi youths perceived her, Boorr was a respected and valued member of the Jedi Order, with many on the Council looking to her for wisdom.

When Jedi Master Dion Sazon came to Master Boorr in search of forbidden knowledge, Boorr refused to indulge him, knowing full well the dangers contained within those teachings and unwilling to allow history to repeat itself. She informed the Council of Sazon’s endeavors and the Pau’an was eventually banished from the Jedi Order. Ten years later, he resurfaced as the Sith Lord Darth Desolous and waged war against the Republic.

In 3439 BBY, Master Boorr and the rest of the Jedi Council set up a trap for Darth Desolous at Yaga Minor. Due to her advanced age, Boorr did not believe she would be a capable enough fighter against the Dark Lord of the Sith but nonetheless joined her fellow Jedi in the fight against Desolous. During the ensuing battle, Boorr was one of the first to fall as Desolous unleashed his personal rage against her in a volley of Force lightning. 

Barra-Rona-Ban (-990 BBY)

Barra-Rona-Ban was a Cerean male Jedi Master who served as Chief Librarian during the final years of the New Sith Wars.

Restelly Quist (990 BBY-)

Restelly Quist succeeded Barra-Rona-Ban as Chief Librarian following the Cerean’s retirement. As head of the Council of First Knowledge, Master Quist recognized the need for wisdom among her fellow Jedi and believed that students did not focus enough on their studies due to the turmoil the Sith Wars had brought. Confident that the Sith had been vanquished for good, Quist brought swift reform the Jedi Archives and helped pen the book The Jedi Path, which detailed the steps one must take in order to become a Jedi Knight. 

Jocasta Nu (52-19 BBY)

Raised at the Jedi Temple on Coruscant, Jocasta Nu was a firebrand Jedi known for her strength and determination. Having served as Chief Librarian since her mid-thirties, Jocasta was greatly confident of the information contained by the Archives and strongly believed that anything that could not be found in the Archives’ files simply did not exist.

During her tenure as Chief Librarian, Jocasta served on the Jedi Council for ten years before stepping down so as to focus on her duties at the Archives. Shortly before the outbreak of the Clone Wars, she provided assistance for the Jedi Knight Obi-Wan Kenobi in his search for the planet Kamino, which had secretly been deleted from the archives from the former Jedi (and Jocasta’s former peer) Count Dooku. At the end of the Clone Wars, she was killed by fallen Jedi Anakin Skywalker as he led the attack on the Jedi Temple at the onset of the Great Jedi Purge.

Appa Nakil (10-26 ABY)

Born nearly a century before the rise of the Empire, Appa Nakil’s Force-sensitivity was hidden from the Jedi Order out of resentment for the Order keeping Oppo Rancisis away from his birthright at the Blood Monarch of Thisspias. Following the Jedi Purge, Nakil underwent a personal mission to recover Jedi artifacts and preserve the Order’s history as much as he could. This eventually led him to cross paths with Luke Skywalker following the Battle of Endor and, under Skywalker’s tutelage, Nakil went on the become a founding member of the New Jedi Order as well as the first Chief Librarian of the restored Jedi Archives.

After the Imperial Sith War, Nakil stepped down from his position and retired to Thisspias. For reasons unknown, he ended up joining the Sith Order of Darth Sedriss, taking on the name Lord Serpriss, though he was notably less attuned to the dark side than his fellow Sith Lords. In 41 ABY, he accompanied fellow ex-Jedi Viron to warn the Jedi Council of Varon Krul’s plot, only to be confronted and killed by his former apprentice Odan Murk, secretly one of Varon’s followers.

Tionne (26 ABY-)

Born on the planet Rindao, Tionne grew up listening to stories of the Jedi, imparted onto her by her grandmother. When the Empire executed her grandmother for spreading knowledge of the Jedi, Tionne escaped and spend the next several years traveling in search of more knowledge on the Jedi. Around 11 ABY, she received a tip on the location of Exis Station, which once housed a Jedi concave thousands of years ago, and asked her informant to seek out Luke Skywalker for reimbursement. In return, Luke sought out Tionne himself and offered to train her at the new Jedi Praxeum on Yavin 4. Tionne agreed and, together with her master Appa Nakil, reconstructed the Jedi Archives from the combined lore the two of them had collected since the Jedi Purge.

After Master Nakil stepped down, Tionne was elevated to the position of Chief Librarian and granted her former master’s seat on the Jedi Council, continuing to expand the Archives and educate students on Jedi lore, ensuring that the legacy of the Jedi would be remembered for generations to come.

NOTES

Atris was introduced in the 2004 video game Knights of the Old Republic II: The Sith Lords, as was her successor Mical.

Gnost-Dural was created for the MMORPG The Old Republic. His master, Zane Carran, is an original character made for a Gnost-Dural-centered story that I never finished.

Tolada Boorr is an original character created to flesh out the backstory of Darth Desolous.

Barra-Rona-Ban first appeared in the second Darth Bane novel, Rule of Two.

Restelly Quist originates from the guidebook The Jedi Path.

Jocasta Nu debuted in Episode II Attack of the Clones.

Appa Nakil is an original character designed for the New Jedi Order’s alternate history in the Destiny Universe.

Tionne is from the Jedi Academy Trilogy of books and is the first known Chief Librarian of the Jedi Archives.

Star Wars: Vergence I, Chapter Two

 CHAPTER TWO

Coruscant

Wedge Antilles had been hoping to enjoy retirement.

His career had been a long and illustrious one. He still remembered the day he had joined the Rebel Alliance as if it was yesterday, with everything else passing by in a blur. He sometimes wondered how different his life would have been had he not lost his parents, or if he had not lost Mala. Would he have even joined the Rebellion, let alone have met Iella and have two daughters with her? Would he have still be living the life of a trader, never so much as stepping a foot out of the Corellian system? In his old age, it was things like this that occupied his mind, especially since there were no longer Imperial warlords and Sith Lords to worry about.

Instead, he was worried about the very Republic he had once served.

He had tried to deny it at first, after hearing rumors of a plot to oust Chief of State Cal Omas in the early days of the Glorian War. Then there was the Sith conspiracy, which had pulled in political figures from both the Imperial Remnant and the Galactic Alliance. He would not have even known about all that had his old friend Garik Loran not insisted on drip-feeding him intelligence reports under the radar. Even Leia had contacted him, telling him there was a plot brewing within the Alliance to destabilize it, and that she had formed a Resistance to expose and bring an end to the conspiracy.

He had turned down her offer to join, even after Leia had told him that his youngest daughter Myri had joined the cause. A few weeks later, the Battle of Mandalore went down and it was reported that Darth Taral — the so-called mastermind behind the conspiracy — had been taken down. After hearing the news, Wedge had thought that was the end of it.

He had been very wrong about that.

Not long after the Battle of Mandalore, the director of Alliance Intelligence Heol Girdun — one of the conspirators involved in the Sith’s plot — had been cleared of his charges and Garik Loran, who had been serving as co-director, had been forced to step down. Wedge hadn’t even heard from Loran since then and it was quick approaching a full year since Girdun’s joke of a trial, leaving him concerned over what had befallen his former teammate.

In addition to all that, there was already talk among the Senate about removing the current Chief of State and replacing him with someone more to their liking. The names that had been thrown out there — Haydnat Treen, Fost Bramsin, Carise Sindian — were not to any of his liking; all of them reminded him too much of the corrupt politicians that had been the leading cause of the Old Republic’s fall. While he may have been too young to remember the Empire’s rise, he had been with the Rebellion long enough to recognize its early signs.

He could barely even watch the HoloNet anymore. With his wife off-world visiting a friend and both of his daughters working at their respective jobs, Wedge needed the silence in order to keep himself from going insane. If he didn’t listen to the news, then perhaps he could pretend that everything was all right and he could just relax reading a holobook or something.

Of course, he knew he was just kidding himself.

As he sat on the sofa, struggling to read the first page of the holonovel that he had been staring at for a good hour or so, he heard something fall in the kitchen. Grateful for the excuse to get up and do something, Wedge set down the datapad and walked into the kitchen, expecting to find a pan that had fallen over or something.

He flicked on the light and instead saw a cloaked figure standing in front of him.

“Hi there,” the intruder said.

“Who the hell are you?” Wedge asked, already reaching into his pocket for his hold-out blaster.

“People call me Shadow. Not exactly an inspiring name, I know.” The cloaked man shifted slightly, inclining his hooded head towards the veteran pilot. “There’s no need for the blaster. I mean you no harm.”

“I’ll be the judge of that,” Wedge muttered.

Shadow started to slowly walk out of the kitchen and into the living room. Wedge watched his every step with the highest level of suspicion. “I’m sure you’ve aware of what’s been going on in the Galactic Alliance,” Shadow said casually, as if he was talking about the weather.

“I am,” Wedge said bitterly. “Sometimes I wish I wasn’t, though.”

“Most of us can agree with that, I believe.” Shadow stepped over to a window and opened the shutters, watching the lights of airspeeders pass by in the Coruscanti night. “Would you like to help us change that?”

Wedge frowned, still not taking his hand out of his pocket or letting go of the blaster within. “Leia sent you, didn’t she?”

“I am not at liability to confirm that,” Shadow said quietly. “I was sent by someone named Fulcrum.”

This gave Wedge pause. He recognized the name as an alias used by Rebel agents during the early days of the Galactic Civil War. One of those agents, an ex-Imperial named Kallus, had helped him infiltrate an Imperial academy on Montross and rescue a group of defecting cadets. It was one of the first missions the Rebellion had given him to prove his worth before assigning him to the Tierfon Yellow Aces.

Hearing this name after so many years was enough to make him draw his empty hand out of his pocket, though he continued to eye Shadow warily. “Fulcrum couldn’t contact me directly?” he asked.

“They are otherwise preoccupied,” Shadow replied. “Besides, I happened to be in the neighborhood.”

Wedge sighed. “Well, I already know what you’re going to ask me. I already told Leia that I didn’t want any part of the Resistance. I’m supposed to be retired.”

“That was before Mandalore, though,” the agent pointed out. “I’d like to think that a lot of things have changed since then.”

“On the surface? Not really. It’s only when you get a closer look that you realize that things are changing at all.”

“Exactly.” Shadow turned to face the retired pilot. From beneath the rim of his hood, Wedge could tell the agent’s face was concealed by a mask as black as the cloak he wore. “And by the time the rest of the galaxy notices the changes, it will be too late. That is the purpose the Resistance serves, General Antilles: To stop things before it is too late.”

“Don’t call me that,” Wedge said, shifting uncomfortably. “I’m retired. It’s just Wedge, now.”

“You can’t keep using retirement as an excuse for long, general,” Shadow said sharply. “Do you plan on lounging here in your apartment while the rest of Coruscant burns?”

“I can always move to Corellia,” Wedge muttered.

Shadow laughed bitterly. “As if the rest of the Core Worlds will be any better off. Even as we speak, a schism is in the works. What you’ve been seeing in the Senate is just a taste of what is happening behind the scenes. The Alliance is falling apart, Wedge Antilles. Its very name has become an oxymoron.”

Wedge eyed the agent evenly. “What does the Resistance want me to do about it?”

“The same things you’ve been doing all your life,” Shadow said. “To lead and to stand for what is right.”

“I can’t do those things forever, pal. I’ve been getting on in my years.”

“Think of it this way: If what you do for the galaxy today fails, then perhaps they never deserved it in the first place.”

Wedge frowned. “And what if I say no?”

“You won’t. I’ve been given express orders to bring you back to my superiors whether you like it or not.”

“Ah. So this is a kidnapping then.”

“Don’t think of it as a kidnapping,” Shadow said. “Think of it as mandatory relocation.”

Wedge closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He should have known this day would come. “In that case, I won’t give you any trouble then.”

He reached again in his pocket and before he knew it he was being pinned to the floor. Shadow loomed over him, his mask nearly pressed against Wedge’s face, as he held the veteran’s right arm in a vice-like grip.

“Fulcrum told me you would be stubborn about this,” Shadow said calmly.

“How does Fulcrum know me so well?” Wedge asked through gritted teeth.

“From what I’ve gathered, she’s been married to you for nearly thirty years.”

And just like that, everything clicked into place in Wedge’s head.

“Yeah,” he said. “That does sound like her.”

*  *  *

While the rest of Coruscant slept, Club Kasakar was buzzing with activity. Neon lights illuminated the nightclub, casting a vibrant glow on its patrons as they gambled, danced, drank, and traded illicit materials. In the heyday of the New Republic, such venues would have been shut down without a second thought. But since the election of Luewet Wuul, the Galactic Alliance’s standards had dropped considerably and the criminal underworld had benefited greatly from it. Even notable politicians and officers could be seen participating in the questionably legal activities that went down at Club Kasakar. If anyone recognized them, no one spoke a word of it, especially if they wanted to wake up alive tomorrow.

Sitting in a secluded booth, wearing a cloak that concealed most of his face, Wallen Nix watched it all with a look of disgust. He felt that all of the work he had done for the Alliance had been for naught. Why bother catching crooks and solving murders if the very people he worked for was just going to sweep it under the rug or just start committing more crimes themselves?

He had to remind himself that the Alliance he used to work for was no more. He wasn’t sure when exactly the shift had happened, or perhaps it had simply been a gradual change. But the government that currently ruled Coruscant (in the loosest sense of the term) was not the same he had worked for less than a decade ago.

Sitting across from him, head hung low over a glass of Tevraki whiskey, was an indigo-skinned Twi'lek, wearing a cloak similar to Wallen’s. While the detective knew his former lieutenant better as the Kel Dorian Xemer, Club Kasakar did not exactly cater to the non-oxygen breathing species. As such, the shape-shifting Shi’ido had put his talents to use to take on the form of a seemingly innocuous Twi'lek who easily blended into the crowd. If anyone asked, his name was “Pol Vao.” If anyone got too close to comfort, his name was “Your worst nightmare.” Wallen had enough faith in his long-time partner to pull the act off. 

The two of them were not exactly alone in the club either. To Wallen’s left, a young woman with vibrant red hair and an equally red minidress flirted with a group of gamblers sitting at a sabacc table and casually asked them questions about an elusive Cabal that allegedly operated here on Coruscant. The men there were distracted enough by her looks that they would forget whatever would happen to them if they blabbed about something they weren’t supposed to blab about. Which they did.

Across the room, in Wallen’s line of sight, an Anzati bounty hunter and her big scary Gamorrean partner surrounded a frightened Balosar sitting at the bar, going for a more intimidating route in getting the same information. From the looks of things, it was having an equal rate of success.

Turning back to the Twi'lek sitting across from him, Wallen said in a low voice, “Looks like our friends are making progress.”

“Provided that the information they get is useful,” Xemer replied. “For all we know, the Cabal could have already moved their operations from Coruscant after your run in with them.”

Wallen had considered the possibility, recalling the last time he had visited Club Kasakar with his lieutenant Taaku about a year ago, searching for a Cabal operative named Vixen. They ended up encountering a dangerous creature known as a Xylini and had narrowly escaped with their lives. When this mission had come up, Taaku had turned it down while Wallen had accepted it. He was eager to get to the bottom of the Cabal’s operations and potential influence over the corrupted Alliance and — hopefully — put an end to them.

Still, like Xemer said, it was a strong possibility that the Cabal had already taken their business elsewhere. But that didn’t mean they couldn’t still be elsewhere in the Core Worlds, close to the heart of the government.

Taking a sip from his glass of Savareen brandy, Wallen took the opportunity to scan the room again. Near the sabacc table where the woman in the red dress was at, a well-dressed man who looked to be in his early thirties sat and clinked glasses with an entourage of young men his age and attractive women of different species, including humans, Twi'leks, and Zeltrons. Something about the man’s features struck Wallen as familiar, though he could not quite put his finger on it. He softly kicked Xemer’s leg under the table to get his partner’s attention.

“Man at three-o-clock,” he whispered. “Holding a glass of blossom wine. Any info on him?”

Xemer glanced briefly at the man in question. “Darius Naberrie,” he said in a low voice. “Senator of Naboo. Supposed to be getting married to a Serennian noble tomorrow, I believe. He must be having his bachelor’s party.”

“Naberrie,” Wallen echoed. Even the name tasted familiar as it rolled off his tongue. “As in House Naberrie?”

“One and the same.” Xemer nodded before raising a hairless eyebrow. “Is there something wrong?”

Wallen shook his head. “No. Just thought it was someone I knew.”

“In any case, it wouldn’t hurt to keep tabs on him. If he’s here at a place like this, then who knows what kind of dealings he’s been involved in.”

Wallen grunted in assent as he took another sip of his drink before risking another glance at the sabacc table. The woman had departed and was headed for the back exit. As she walked by, she briefly caught Wallen’s eye and rubbed the side of her nose. He responded with a barely perceptible nod. He then looked over to see the Anzati and the Gamorrean walking away from the Balosar. The latter glanced at Wallen and flared his nostrils.

“We should probably pay our tab,” Wallen said, setting down his glass.

“Agreed,” Xemer said, already getting out of his side of the booth. “Shall we split the bill?”

“Of course. No way in hell am I paying for all the drinks you’ve had.”

“It was only a few,” Xemer protested.

“I don’t know what planet you’re from where seven is ‘few,’ but it’s not from where I’m from.”

The shape-shifter huffed, his indignation at least partially genuine. “At least I can hold my liquor better than some people….”

*  *  *

“Next time, Piggy can wear the minidress,” said Myri Antilles. Xemer already had the airspeeder in the air as soon as she had sat down, sandwiched between the Gamorrean in question and their fellow Wraith Jesmin Tainer.

“I thought you liked playing the ‘party girl,’” said Jesmin, removing the Anzati prosthetics from her face.

“I do. I just sometimes think we should change things up a bit. Have me be the big scary bodyguard while Piggy plays the distraction.”

“Been there, done that,” Piggy replied, the grunts and squeals of his species translated through an implant built into his throat. “Have I ever told you about the Wraiths’ mission to Ryvester?”

Myri shook her head. Jesmin restrained a smirk but said nothing.

“To make a long story short, I had to play the part of a belly dancer to take down an Imperial warlord.”

Myri’s eyes looked as if they were going to pop out of their sockets. “A… belly dancer?”

“Yup. My outfit did not leave much to the imagination, either.”

“Thanks,” Wallen grunted, sitting upfront next to Xemer. “I really needed that image in my head.”

“You’re welcome,” Piggy said. “You should consider yourself lucky though; if you had actually been there, the image would have forever been ingrained in your memory. At least, that’s what Face and the others tell me.”

Xemer glanced at the three Wraiths through the rear-view mirror. “So, were you able to get anything from those patrons?”

“The Balosar spilled a lot of beans,” said Jesmin. “He says that the Cabal has reduced their presence on Coruscant and have spread their operations to other planets in the Core.”

“Just as we suspected,” Wallen muttered. “Any names?”

“Hosnian Prime, Corellia, and Sedratis. He clammed up before we could press him for any more.”

“That should give us a good starting point, at least,” Xemer said. “What about you, Myri?”

“Those guys were a lot more interested in either me or their game then talking about the Cabal,” the red-haired woman said, folding her arms over her chest. “Only one of them — a smuggler named Lance Nebula — gave me anything useful. He said that the Cabal have been mapping out a secret hyperspace route connecting Corellia to Ord Talavos, which they’ve been using as the center of their network.”

“Sounds like they have an interest in Corellia,” Wallen remarked. “Isn’t Sedratis on the same hyperlane as Corellia?”

Xemer nodded. “Looks like we’ve figured out their new hot spot. Let’s bring this back info back to Fulcrum after we rendezvous with Shadow and General Antilles.”

Myri shifted uncomfortably in her seat. “Um… are you talking about my dad? He’s supposed to be retired.”

“He won’t be after Shadow’s talked to him. Fulcrum was very insistent that Wedge be brought in for this.”

Myri let out a deep breath. “Great. I’m sure he’ll be thrilled to see him.”

“He probably won’t be too happy about that dress you’re wearing,” Jesmin commented.

“Shut up, Ranger Girl.”

Star Wars: Vergence I, Chapter One

PART I: MANDATORY RELOCATION

CHAPTER ONE

Void Station, the Mid Rim

In hindsight, the betrayal had been inevitable.

Out of everyone on her crew, Kyla Kishanti had always trusted Keera the least. She had known her first mate Ace the longest and would have trusted him with her life; Wiskin was an honorable Cathar warrior and loathed the very thought of treachery; Bedo was innocuous and barely fit for the life she had dragged him into; and even Vessin had proven her worth in the few years she had spent with the Renegades.

But Keera had always been a mystery to Kyla. When the crew had met the Farghul on Socorro, Kyla had only agreed to let Keera join the crew because of her expert knowledge on star systems and obscure hyperspace routes that had been thought lost to time. For all her talents as a navigator though, Keera had never gotten along with the rest of the crew and seemed more interested in herself than anything the Renegades did.

Kyla knew she should have kept a closer eye on her. Perhaps then she could have prevented the situation she and the others were currently in.

As Kyla and the rest of the crew sat on their knees with their hands behind their head, held at gunpoint by several thugs, Keera sauntered up to the Octeroid crime boss she had sold them out to, handing him the Dathomiri totem that had been the catalyst of her betrayal.

“I believe this belongs to you, Lord Mikus,” the Farghul purred.

“It does now, Keera, my dear,” replied the green one-eyed alien, his speech translated into the Basic through the vocoder strapped around his neck. Rather than take the artifact himself, he motioned for one of his Hylobon bodyguards to take it instead. Mikus then shifted his massive yellow eye to focus on Kyla and her crew, the folds around his eyeball creasing in lieu of a sinister grin.

“It is a pleasure to finally meet you in person, Captain Kishanti,” the Octeroid said. “I’ve heard of many of your exploits from both Keera’s reports and even news from the HoloNet. You are truly one of the most prolific smugglers in the galaxy.”

“It’s not a reputation I’ve desired,” Kyla replied bitterly. “I prefer to keep a low profile.”

“I’m sure you do. Unfortunately, things don’t always work out the way we want them to.” Mikus chuckled to himself, a strange garbled sound coming from his vocoder. “Except for me, of course. Things have played out exactly the way I wanted them to.”

Kyla directed her glare to Keera, who met it with a faux-innocent smile. “Why did it take this long for you to sell us out?” she asked. “If we hadn’t found that blasted totem, how much longer would you have stuck with your little charade?”

“Oh, I was going to sell you out regardless,” Keera said. “The totem just gave me a useful out to lure you to Void Station.” Her grin turned wicked. “Besides, I told the truth, didn’t I? I did tell you that someone at Void Station would have an interest in the totem.”

“She’s not wrong,” murmured Bedo but was silenced by a growl from Wiskin.

Disregarding the conversation, Mikus turned to focus his attention on the most recent addition to the Renegades’ crew. The rough-faced man kept his brown eyes to the floor, though his breathing became visibly more erratic the longer the Octeroid stared at him.

“And you must be Kadar,” Mikus said, his voice dangerously quiet. “The Black Sun Butcher.”

Kyla felt her stomach churn, though she knew she should have seen this coming. Despite their attempts to fake the ex-Mandalorian’s death and forge a new identity for him, she had a feeling it would have only been a matter of time before someone discovered him and try to enact their revenge against him. She just didn’t think it would have been so soon.

“Believe it or not, I admire you, Kadar,” Mikus went on, still staring at the former Mandalorian. “Killing all of those vigos was a very impressive feat… not to mention very profitable. So many of their assets were left up for grabs, especially after Xalren and his new lieutenants were all blown up on Mustafar, that I was able to get my hands on a very large chunk of it. If it hadn’t been for Saiga Kas’lya’s death, I wouldn’t have been able to buy this little palace of hers!”

He let out a rueful sigh. “Alas, the price on your head is just too good to pass up. That, in addition to whatever bounties there are on your friends… by stars, I’ll end up being the richest Octeroid in the Cabal!”

“You’re the only Octeroid in the Cabal,” muttered one of the Hylobon bodyguards.

“Shut up,” Mikus hissed. “Now then, how shall we go about doing this?”

Kyla bit her lip and shot a glance at Ace. The Bothan met her gaze with a forlorn look, offering no hints of hope. There would be no way out of this one, Kyla realized. Not this time.

As Mikus seemed to consider his options, one of the Hylobons raised a hand to their helmet, a grim expression crossing his furred face. After a moment, the guard stepped over to the crime boss.

“My lord, there has been a disturbance in Sector Two.”

Mikus’ eye went wide as he spun to face the Hylobon. “The lounge area? What’s going on there?”

“A fight has appeared to have broken out. Shall I dispatch all units to quell the situation?”

“Well, yeah! We’re supposed to make sure people are having a good time!” Mikus shook his large round head, huffing in exasperation. “Stars, how hard is it for people to have fun?”

While the Hylobons started barking orders into their comlinks, Mikus turned to the thugs holding Kyla and the others. “Take them down to the dungeons and keep them there for the time being. I’ll come back for them once this stupid thing is dealt with.”

The leader of the thugs, a burly Chagrian, grunted his assent before motioning to the others. Kyla was then dragged to her feet and, with a blaster pressed against her back, was pushed into line with the others before following the Chagrian down to the dungeons.

Whatever was going down in the lounge area, she could only hope that it would last long enough for her to devise a plan to get them out of this mess.

*  *  *

In hindsight, the fight had been inevitable.

Sare Valrisa had not wanted to come to Void Station in the first place, knowing that it was being run by a member of the Malvis Cabal. However, the ex-Jedi Zarin Kal — whom she and Typha had welcomed onto their crew not too long ago — had insisted on going, believing that they would find someone who would help in his quest to find the Whills. Seeing as they were already in the sector, Valrisa had decided a quick stop would not hurt, provided they kept a low profile.

Unfortunately, it had hurt. And it was still hurting.

The spacer who had first made the unwanted advance on Typha laid forgotten behind the counter of the bar, dazed as he rubbed the growing welt on his head. His Lasat companion had not taken this well and had lunged at the Pantoran woman, who already had her blaster drawn. Zarin had stepped between them and pushed the Lasat away with the Force, sending the burly creature crashing into a sabacc table occupied by seven smugglers, sending their cards and earnings flying everywhere. Naturally, this had not sat well with them either.

It wasn’t long before the whole room had erupted into chaos, blaster fire shooting in every direction as smugglers clashed with bounty hunters clashed with pirates clashed with spacers. Even the Hylobon Enforcers that Lord Mikus employed were having difficulty in controlling the situation, with the arriving reinforcements doing little good to help.

Valrisa had since found herself huddled behind a fallen table with her two companions, exchanging blaster shots with anyone who had centered their focus on them. The odds of them getting out of the present situation with their lives were looking less and less good by the minute.

“I told you this would have been a bad idea,” Valrisa muttered.

“I am aware,” Zarin replied, deflecting a blaster bolt with his red lightsaber. “Consider this as something to use against me the next time I propose somewhere to go.”

“That’s provided there is a next time,” Typha pointed out. “Are you sure there aren’t any other exits?”

“The only way out is the one the Hylobons are coming in from,” said Valrisa.

“What if we make an exit, then?”

Valrisa shot her partner a look. “We are not using thermal detonators in a place like this. Take out the wrong wall and we all get sucked out into space.”

Typha pouted. “Well, maybe if you’d let me bring my sniper rifle….”

“Wait, I have an idea.” Zarin looked over to Valrisa. “There’s a level below this one, isn’t there?”

“Probably, but I don’t know what would be down there,” she replied. “I don’t have a map of this place.”

Zarin flipped his lightsaber around and pointed it at the floor. “Only one way to find out, then.”

“Wait, what are you—?” Valrisa started to say. She was cut off as Zarin plunged his lightsaber into the floor and began slicing through it, cutting out a perfect circle. The Kiffar then lifted the slab of metal he had cut out with the Force and hurled it into the chaotic scene behind them, knocking out the same Lasat from earlier as well as a couple of Hylobon enforcers. Zarin then jumped into the newly made hole, leaving the other two gawking after him.

“That is one crazy Jedi,” Typha muttered.

“Aren’t you guys coming?” Zarin called out to them. “It’s all clear down here!”

“Yes, well, sometimes crazy works,” Valrisa said before jumping down into the hole, followed closely by a reluctant Typha as blaster bolts whizzed above their heads.

The place they now found themselves in was a sharp contrast from the one above it. Unlike the luxurious lounge area with stainless floors and pristine seats, this room looked as if it had not been maintained in centuries. Grime and rust caked the walls and floors as the smell of death and decay pervaded every corner. Typha immediately covered her nose while Valrisa’s face twisted in disgust. Clearly, this was where Mikus brought the guests he didn’t like.

They found Zarin standing at the large iron door to the room, peering through the barred window. As Valrisa and Typha approached him, he raised a hand to stop them and motioned them to be quiet.

“Someone’s coming down this way,” the Kiffar whispered.

“How many?” Valrisa asked.

“Lots.”

Valrisa frowned as she heard the approaching footsteps getting louder and louder. She pushed Zarin aside in order to get a better look for herself. From around the corner came a large horned Chagrian, followed closely by an entourage of thugs and what appeared to be prisoners, with a female Mirialan and a male Bothan at the front of the group.

“Looks like they’re headed this way,” she murmured.

“Now can I use my thermal detonator?” asked Typha.

“No!” Valrisa hissed. “There’s people with them; people who are probably in the same situation as us.”

“So?”

“So we can’t just atomize them like that. Besides, they might be able to help us get out of here.”

A small smile crossed Zarin’s face. “I can see you haven’t forgotten your teachings.”

She shot him a look. “Don’t even start with that.”

Typha huffed impatiently. “So, what are we going to do?”

“This.” Zarin motioned Valrisa to step away from the door before reeling his arms back. She could sense him calling upon the Force, gathering up all of its energies, before unleashing it in a mighty blast upon the metal door. The slab of iron went flying off its hinges and went straight into the approaching entourage, hitting the Chagrian and knocking him into the others behind them.

“Yeah, let’s not atomize them,” Typha said dryly. “Let’s just knock the life out of them instead.”

Three of the six thugs were already back on their feet and charged towards the trio, blasters ablaze. Zarin ignited his lightsaber and deflected their shots, redirecting them back into their chests and taking them out. Valrisa then drew her blaster and shot down a Twi’lek thug that had been about to toss a thermal detonator. This left only the Chagrian and a female Besalisk; the former had gotten back to his feet with a nasty welt on his head and drawn his blaster, though he did not yet fire it.

“I don’t recall ever tossing you three into the dungeons,” he growled. “That tells me you came from somewhere else.”

“It’s really none of your business,” said Valrisa. “Best you just let us run along.”

“Yeah, that’s not happening.” The Chagrian narrowed his eyes at her. “Besides… I’m pretty sure Malvis has you on his wanted list.”

Valrisa tensed at this but kept her cool.

“To be honest,” the thug went on, “I’m surprised you even came here in the first place. You know that Malvis has put all of the Cabal lords on the lookout for you. You know that Void Station is run by Lord Mikus. Why did you think it was a good idea to come here?”

“She didn’t,” Zarin said before she could say anything. “It was my idea.”

The Chagrian narrowed his eyes at the Kiffar. “And you would be?”

“Zarin Kal, Lord of the Sith.”

“Sure you are, buddy,” the Chagrian snorted, eying the red lightsaber in Zarin’s hands. “Maybe the poor sod you looted that laser-sword from was a Sith, but you don’t strike me as one; least not from the company you seem to be keeping.”

“Oh?” A wicked gleam flashed in Zarin’s eyes. “Perhaps this will convince you.”

He raised a hand and brought his thumb and index figure together. The Chagrian let out a gasp as his hand flew to his spasming neck. The Besalisk looked at him in concern before raising her four blaster-wielding arms at the Sith.

“Whatever it is you’re doing to him, stop it!” she growled. “Or else I’m gonna—”

The Besalisk was cut short as she started to choke as well, dropping all four of her weapons. She and the Chagrian fell to their knees at the same time, clutching in vain at their constricting throats.

“Zarin?” Valrisa’s voice was quiet as she watching the horrific scene play out before her. “You can… you can stop now.”

Zarin did nothing of the sort. In fact, he seemed to be reveling in the torment he was inflicting upon the two thugs, his eyes tinted with gold.

“Zarin, stop!” She grabbed his arm. “There’s no need for this!”

When she touched him, it seemed to snap him out of the reverie he had fallen into and he immediately released the two thugs from his invisible grip. However, the damage had already been done and the Chagrian and Besalisk slumped lifelessly to the floor.

For the longest time, Zarin simply stood there in a state of shock, mouth agape as he stared upon his handiwork. The Mirialan and the rest of the (now former) captives stared down at the dead thugs before looking towards Valrisa and the other two.

“I’m not sure whether I should be grateful or fearing for my life,” the Mirialan said.

Valrisa shook her head as she stepped up to the green woman. “I’m going to wager a guess that you guys are looking for way out of here.”

“That’s an understatement.”

“Then our goals align. Do you have a ship?”

The Mirialan nodded. “Provided Mikus hasn’t already had it dismantled, it should still be in the hangar.”

“Will it be guarded?” asked Typha.

“Possibly.” The Mirialan glanced at Zarin. “Though I doubt they’ll be too much trouble for you guys.”

“Don’t count on it too much,” Valrisa replied. “Let’s get going.”

*  *  *

“Seriously. You people are supposed to be having a good time. How can you have a good time if you’re all shooting at each other?”

None of the subdued patrons said anything as Mikus walked past them, admonishing them like a disappointed parent. The Hylobon Enforcers had just barely been able to get the situation under control mere minutes before the crime boss had shown up.

“How did this all start anyway?” Mikus asked, looking from one sheepish face to another.

“Some koochoo was hitting on a Pantoran cheeka,” said a Nikto smuggler. “She threw him over the counter and it… kind of went off the rails from there.”

“Is that right?” Mikus scanned the room with his single large eye, not seeing any Pantoran male or female. “Where is she now?”

“I think she went through a hole in the floor,” said a Zabrak spacer, pointing at exactly that.

Mikus’ eye went wide, realizing where the hole led to. “Draemon!” he barked to a nearby Hylobon. “Put Grokk on the line!”

The enforcer raised a hand to his head comm as he hailed the Chagrian thug in question. A few minutes passed before the Hylobon frowned.

“Can’t get a hold of him, my lord. Nor any of the others.”

“Then send someone down to the dungeons!” Mikus ordered. “We can’t let any of the prisoners escape!”

“Shall I dispatch additional units to the hangar bay as well?” Draemon asked.

“Do that. And do what I just told you.” Mikus flailed his thin arms around. “Just do something to make me happy again!”

The Hylobon Enforcers were quick to head off to carry out their orders. All of them knew what happened when their master was unhappy, and none of them wanted to be around to witness it.

*  *  *

As Typha had predicted, there were a good number of thugs and enforcers guarding the Renegades’ ship. And just as Kyla had predicted, Zarin had been able to make short work of them.

Kyla still was not sure how she felt about letting a supposed Sith Lord onto her ship. But considering the situation, she figured she had bigger things to worry about.

As the Renegades and their three new friends clambered onto the YT-1930 transport, Kyla and Ace hurried into the cockpit and started flicking switches to bring the ship online. Outside the viewport, she could see a squad of Hylobon Enforcers swarming out into the hangar, with three of them lugging an E-web blaster with them.

“Wiskin, get on the guns!” Kyla yelled. “Blast them before they get that E-web set up!”

The Cathar warrior was already two steps ahead of her as no sooner had she finished speaking that a pair of plasma bolts flashed from the Renegade’s bottom turret — a recent modification — and blasted the incoming Hylobons.

“Don’t stop shooting until we’re out of here, big cat,” Kyla said, strapping herself into the pilot seat. Ace flipped another few switches and the ship’s sublight engines thrummed to life, causing the vessel to shake.

“I’m gonna need you to plot a course,” Kyla muttered to the Bothan. “Considering we’re short a navigator….”

Ace nodded, his expression grim. “We should probably get as clear of the sector as we can. Only safe route for this system is the Kaaga Run, however; that’ll take us to either Bothawui or into Hutt Space.”

“Bothawui would be our safest bet. We can then hop onto the Manda Merchant Route and go from there; maybe even throw them off our scent.”

As Ace began plotting their course, Kyla lifted the Renegade from the deck and gunned for the open hangar down, shooting out into space. Automated turrets opened fire on the Corellian transport as it weaved its way through the station’s defenses. Wiskin and Vessin manned both of the ship’s turrets and took out some of the station’s guns while Kyla pulled off all of the maneuvers in her book to evade their firepower.

“How much longer before we can jump, Ace?” Kyla called to the Bothan, even though he was sitting right next to her.

“Just a minute,” her co-pilot said. “Just a minute.”

A blast from one of the station’s turrets caused the ship to shake violently. “We don’t have a minute!” Kyla shouted.

“Now!” Ace grabbed the hyperspace lever and pulled it.

The stars stretched into lines of white as the Renegade was hurled into the safety of hyperspace. 

*  *  *

Keera watched through the window of Mikus’ office as the Renegade jumped to hyperspace.

It was a shame, she supposed. Obviously, Mikus was not going to be happy about this. But his feelings were not really her concern. No one’s feelings were, if she was being honest with herself.

She supposed she could make the Octeroid happy by telling him she had wired a tracking beacon onto the Renegade and that he could use that to track them down. But then she wouldn’t have been able to track them down herself and wait for a more opportune moment to catch them.

Naturally, the more fun of the two options prevailed.

Humming to herself, Keera sauntered out of the room and headed down to the lounge area, planning on having one last night of fun before she left.

The Renegade, en route through hyperspace

Valrisa let out her breath as she slumped into a booth within the freighter’s main hold. Typha slid up next to her, resting a head on her shoulder, while Zarin leaned against the technical station. From the gunwell emerged a burly Cathar and a young Mandalorian woman, both who eyed the newcomers warily but said nothing as they found their own seats in the hold. The other two members of the Renegade’s crew — an Ortolan and an older man — sat nearby in silence, with the former making furtive glances in Zarin’s direction.

After several long minutes, Typha broke the silence by murmuring, “We left our ship behind.”

“I didn’t even think about that,” Valrisa admitted. “Probably for the best though; Malvis’ goons would recognize me by that piece of junk.”

“I’m gonna need a new sniper—”

“So you work for Malvis, then?” asked the woman in Mandalorian armor, eying Valrisa carefully.

“Used to,” she corrected. “Had a falling out with the Cabal back on Ord Talavos because of an auction that went wrong, ending with one of their top leaders dead. I wasn’t even the one responsible for his death, but they’ve got it out for me anyways. My guess is they were just waiting for an excuse.”

“Well, even so, I don’t think Kyla’s gonna keep you guys around for long.” The Mandalorian woman glanced towards the older man, who did not meet her gaze. “We’ve already got enough wanted faces on this ship.”

“Fine with me,” Valrisa said. “Drop us off wherever is convenient for you… so long as it isn’t a junkyard or anything like that.”

The Cathar frowned at her. “What were you doing at Void Station anyway?”

She looked in Zarin’s direction, but the Kiffar did not offer to speak up. In fact, he seemed to be lost in his own world, not even acknowledging anyone’s presence. She frowned to herself but quickly hid it as she turned back to the Cathar.

“We were just hoping to meet up with someone,” she said. It was a partial truth, at least. “Obviously, that didn’t go so well.”

The Cathar continued to look wary of her but said nothing further. A few moments later, the Mirialan captain — Kyla, Valrisa figured — emerged from the cockpit, looking just as skeptical of her new passengers as the rest of the crew.

“It’ll be a moment before we reach Bothawui,” Kyla said, folding her arms over her chest. “The planet is under Alliance jurisdiction anyway, so I doubt the Cabal will bother us there.”

Valrisa shook her head. “That’s not much of a guarantee. The Cabal operates anywhere they please, Alliance or no Alliance.”

Kyla arched an eyebrow. “You seem to know a lot about the Cabal. Were you an operative of their’s?”

“I was, for about three years. I don’t know all of the ins and outs of their operations, but I’ve learned enough about them to know where their hot spots are.”

“Is nowhere safe then?” asked the Mandalorian woman.

“The Core Worlds might be our safest bet, but don’t quote me on that,” Valrisa said. “They could be running things on Coruscant for all I know.”

“What about Corellia?” Kyla asked. “Are any of them on Corellia?”

Valrisa thought for a moment. “Not that I know of.”

“Then we’ll head there. Then we can talk business opportunities.”

The Cathar looked at Kyla in surprise. “Wait… you mean we’re not just going to ditch them?”

Kyla shook her head. “Like it or not, both our groups are in the Cabal’s crosshairs, especially if Keera is now working for them. Since Valrisa here knows more about their operations than any of us, I think an alliance would be beneficial for both of us.”

“They have a Sith Lord though!” squeaked the Ortolan.

Kyla smirked. “Even better.”

“I’m not a Sith Lord.” Zarin’s voice was hoarse, barely audible to those in the room with him. “I’m not a Jedi either. I’m just… I’m just Zarin.”

Kyla shrugged. “Whatever. You’ve got a laser-sword and magic powers, so that’s all that matters to me. I’m just Kyla, by the way. Kyla Kishanti.”

“Wiskin,” growled the Cathar.

“Vessin,” said the Mandalorian woman.

“Bedo,” the Ortolan said quietly.

“I’m Valrisa. This is Typha.” Valrisa patted her Pantoran partner on the head. She then looked over to the older man, who had yet to so much as speak. “And you?”

“We call him Ziar,” Vessin said, a bit too hasty to not be suspicious. “He doesn’t talk much.”

“Clearly,” Valrisa muttered. “So, Corellia it is, then. Here’s hoping we don’t run into any trouble.”

Wiskin chuckled mirthlessly. “You must be new,” the Cathar growled. “When you’re with the Renegades, you always run into trouble.” 

Star Wars: Vergence I, Prologue

 Well, look what we have here.

PROLOGUE

The Unknown Regions, 40 ABY

The lone spacecraft glided through the canvas of stars that surrounded the aptly named Unknown Regions. The uncharted territory that lay beyond the Outer Rim had been scarcely explored even in the decades following the fall of the Galactic Empire. Stories spun of the unknowable dangers that lurked in the Unknown Regions scared off even the most daring spacers, and most galactic governments were wary of spending the resources to send out scouts that may never return.

Jacen Solo was well aware of these dangers. In fact, it was because of these dangers that he had come here in the first place.

His personal journey in exploring other practices of the Force had brought him far and wide across the galaxy. From the Baran Do Sages of Dorin to the Theran Listeners of Nam Chorios, he exposed himself to a variety of cultures centered around different views of the Force than those of the Jedi. In the process, he had expanded his own understanding of the Force and had come to the realization that the galaxy was much bigger than either the Jedi or the Sith. Much bigger.

His recent visit with the Fallanassi on Pydyr had led him here to the Unknown Regions. It was during his training with the Fallanassi that he had heard this “call”; like some sort of beckoning towards this particular region of space. The call had only gotten stronger the further out he had ventured, yet he was still no closer to deciphering it or pinpointing its exact location than he was back on Pydyr. Instead, he had decided to put his trust in the Force and let it guide him where he needed to go.

Where he had ended up was a region of space that did not appear anywhere on his navigational map or in any of the astrography databases that he could bring up on his computer. There were no nearby star systems or nebulae that he could detect; instead, only a cluster of red cosmic dust lay ahead of him, standing out amongst the blanket of stars that surrounded him. The call was coming from there, he could tell. He could feel it. Against his better judgment, he moved his ship into the Red Nebula.

As soon as he entered the cosmic cloud, his mind was struck by an invisible force. Clutching his head, he screamed into the canopy of his vessel as a barrage of images assaulted his mind.

Lightning flashed on a stormy desert. A fleet of Star Destroyers surrounded an ancient temple. At the epicenter of the temple was a throne situated upon a stone pedestal, jagged spikes jutting from either side. A dark man sat upon the throne, his face concealed by a black cloak over his head. All Jacen could make out were a pair of glowing white spheres serving as eyes. A raspy voice spoke out, though it was difficult to distinguish from the rumble of thunder in tempo with it.

“Mine.”

The scene changed. Ossus, the Jedi Temple, was on fire. A figure clad in black armor stood surrounded by the flames, laughing as he raised his hands to the night sky. The planet’s twin moons, Mim and Nerit, seemed to glow with a white aura around them.

“Mine.”

Ossus turned into Coruscant. Republic and Imperial flags both burned as the dark man — the same one on the throne — gesticulated to a bowing crowd, cackling as his eyes burned like white hot suns.

“Mine.”

Jacen lurched out of the vision just as his ship lurched out of the nebula, as if repelled by some invisible force. He spiraled out of control for a moment until he was able to regain his composure and control of his ship. For a long time, Jacen just sat there, staring at the nebula as he tried to process what he had just seen.

The temptation to venture back in roared in his mind, but he quickly silenced such thoughts. If what he had just seen truly had any bearing on the future, then he could no longer waste time following threads. He had to return to Ossus. He had to warn the Jedi of what was to come.

If it wasn’t already too late.

The Unknown Regions, two years later

The scarlet glow of the Red Nebula reflected in the thin visor of the masked man standing on the bridge of the Supremacy. The Mega Star Destroyer, shaped like the edge of a scythe, orbited the nebula along with its escort of Resurgent-class Star Destroyers. As the personal fleet for the Supreme Leader of the First Order, the Supremacy and her escorts rarely moved from this region of space so as to maintain secrecy among even the highest echelons of the Order.

Kylo Ren did not mind secrecy. What he did mind was having secrets being kept from him.

In all the years he had been to the Red Nebula, he had never been made privy to what was on the other side. For everything his master had taught him, that was one thing the Supreme Leader had refused to so much as hint at an answer to. Whatever laid beyond the nebula was something Snoke did not want him to know. Naturally, this made the knowledge all the more enticing.

Still, he did not dare do something that would get himself in his master’s bad grace. There was still more he needed to learn from Snoke, and he could not learn if he was dead.

In the distance, he could see the Supreme Leader’s personal shuttle emerge from the Red Nebula, flanked on either side by TIE fighters. He watched as they flew towards the Supremacy and glided beneath the massive Star Destroyer’s underbelly.

For the longest time, Kylo Ren just stood there, hands clasped behind his back as he gazed at the nebula. After several long moments that felt more like hours, he heard the distinct sound of boots clicking together and he turned to see a man in the dark gray uniform of a captain standing before him, chin raised high.

“The Supreme Leader requests your presence,” Captain Yago said curtly.

Kylo Ren said nothing as he walked past the captain and headed for the turbolift located at the other end of the bridge. Even the trip from the overbridge to the throne room felt excruciatingly long, despite the short distance between the two chambers.

As the doors parted, Kylo was once again faced with red. Opaque scarlet curtains were draped behind the large throne situated at the end of a wide walkway. On either side stood four of the Supreme Leader’s Elite Praetorian Guard, clad from head to toe in red armor. Other than the black floor and the dark gray throne itself, the only color that separated the sea of red flooding Kylo’s vision was the golden robe the Supreme Leader wore himself as he sat comfortably in his seat.

Walking across the railed walkway, Kylo Ren came up within several feet of the throne before dropping down to one knee, his head bowed. A dry chuckle graced his ears but he did not dare lift his gaze from the floor.

“You seem troubled, my young apprentice,” Snoke said, his tone soft yet deep. “Tell me, what is bothering you?”

“It is nothing, master,” Kylo Ren replied, his voice modulated by his mask.

He felt a twitch of annoyance from Snoke through the Force, though whether it was because he knew the Knight of Ren was lying or simply disdain for the mask he wore, Kylo could not tell.

“Nothing, you say?” asked the Supreme Leader. “You know it is useless to lie to me, apprentice. Please, tell me; perhaps I can help ease your worries.”

Kylo hesitated in answering. He knew that voicing his curiosity over the Red Nebula would simply earn him a sharp rebuke, as it had plenty of times before.

Instead, he said, “I was merely wondering when our next move will be.”

“Ah.” Snoke chuckled again, seeming to relax in his seat. “Restless, are we? I can understand why. Long have we been planning the execution of our schemes, making it so tempting to simply let loose and unleash our wrath on the galaxy. But we must exercise patience if we wish to succeed, Kylo Ren.”

“Yes, master,” Kylo replied, head still bowed.

“Rise.”

He obeyed the command and rose to his feet, lifting his head to gaze upon Snoke fully. The golden robe the Supreme Leader wore hid the distorted shape of his body, though he wore nothing to disguise the decayed flesh of his gaunt, scarred face. His sharp blue eyes seemed to pierce through the visor of Kylo’s mask as he studied the Knight of Ren, resting a chin on his large hand.

“I do have a task for you,” Snoke said softly. “One you may find challenging.”

“I am ready for any challenge you have for me,” Kylo replied confidently.

Snoke smirked. “You don’t even know what it is yet.”

Kylo watched as the Supreme Leader slowly rose from his throne, extending himself to the full seven feet of his height. Clasping his hands behind his back, Snoke began to pace around the chamber, eying his apprentice with every step.

“The Galactic Alliance is falling apart,” he began. “For all his failures, one thing that Darth Taral managed to do that was beneficial to our plans was to install a weak leader in the Alliance. Despite his strong reputation as a senator, Luewet Wuul lacks the strength and responsibility of a proper Chief of State. Already the Senate is divided over their decision of having elected him and there are rumors of potentially impeaching him and replacing him with another fool. 

“What’s more, the collapse of the Imperial Remnant has left several sectors — especially those on the Outer Rim — paranoid and fearful of their own stability. Even as we speak, there have been talks of secession from the Alliance and establishment of their own government. This would reduce the Alliance back to its original state as the New Republic, perhaps with even fewer members than it did during its nascent years.

“While I have already planted agents within the Alliance to sow further discord among the Senate, I know that alone will not be enough to deal a mighty enough blow against the Alliance. There are still those in the Senate who have lived through the days of the Empire and remember what Palpatine had done to create it. They will therefore notice and stop any attempts at replicating what the Emperor had done.”

Kylo tilted his head, meeting his master’s gaze. “What would you have me do then?”

“Losing the Rim worlds would be no severe blow to the Alliance, as they would still have control over the Core and thus still be able to spread their reach outward and perhaps pull those Rim worlds back in.” A sly smile creased Snoke’s broken face. “If they lose control of the Core Worlds, however… then that would be a different story.”

“Why not send your agents to the Core, then? Why send me?”

“Oh, I already have.” Snoke’s grin broadened. “You’ll just be another one of those agents. But the world I am sending you to is one that may have some… sentimental value to you.”

Kylo felt himself tense up, struggling to translate the gleam in the Supreme Leader’s azure eyes. “What world, master?”

Snoke’s cracked lips formed the word “Corellia,” but Kylo could barely hear it over the ringing in his ears.

STAR WARS: VERGENCE

Book I: The Corellian Conspiracy

Transformers Regenerated: Pax Cybertronia XV, Chapter Four

 CHAPTER FOUR

Trypticon, Earth

“It’s a wonderful feeling, isn’t it? Being in control.”

The purple, mono-eyed disembodied head situated beside Megatron was silent at the Decepticon leader readjusted himself in his throne, formed for him by Trypticon within the Titan’s command center.

“It has been so long since I was in control that I had forgotten how… exhilarating it felt,” Megatron went on, staring at the array of viewscreens before him, all showing an area of the Decepticon camp beyond the walls of the room. “Sometimes I wish I had never let it go in the first place.”

Shockwave’s single yellow optic rotated to glance at Megatron, unable to turn his head to get a better look at the Decepticon leader. “Why did you let it go? What happened to the path of redemption you had put yourself on?”

Megatron let out a sharp laugh. “Redemption! Ha! There is no redemption for me, my friend. The opportunity for that passed a long time ago; a thousand and two years ago, to be precise.”

“But you were on that path, were you not?” Shockwave asked. “You were even working alongside Optimus Prime at a point.”

“Because, at that point, I was more or less a walking corpse. The only thing keeping me operational was either Dark Energon or the Nemesis program I had uploaded back into myself.” Megatron leaned back in his seat, interlacing his fingers as he held them up to his chin. “I thought I had nothing to lose at that point. The war was over. The Decepticon dream was dead. I was dead.

“But now that I have been given a new lease on life… I can finish what I started. I can finally realize my vision of the Decepticon Empire. Cybertron will soon be mine… and with it, the galaxy.”

“So sure, are you?” Shockwave questioned.

“More so than I’ve ever been.” Megatron then turned his head to look down at Shockwave’s. “Do you doubt my capability to succeed?”

“I have yet to make an accurate prognosis.”

Megatron chuckled darkly. “Ah, you have not changed one bit, have you, old friend?”

Shockwave did not give Megatron the satisfaction of a response, his single optic staring blankly at the viewscreens.

A few minutes later, the silence was broken when an alert came from the main computer and Soundwave’s visage appeared on the main screen. “Lord Megatron, we have detected a party of several dozen Decepticons outside the perimeters of Trypticon.”

Megatron shifted forward in his seat, looking intrigued. “Several dozen, you say?”

“Affirmative. A large number of them appear to be Monstercons, formerly imprisoned at the Garrus-16 facility.” Soundwave paused for a moment before saying, “Their leader would like to speak with you, personally.”

“Is that right?” Megatron smirked as he leaned back in his throne. “Then their wish shall be granted. Welcome our Decepticon brethren in, Soundwave. Make them feel at home… and bring their spokesman to me.”

“As you command, Lord Megatron,” Soundwave responded before his image winked out.

Alone once more the Decepticon leader, Shockwave shifted his gaze back to Megatron. “You seem confident that these Monstercons share your vision for the Decepticons.”

“Of course I am,” Megatron replied. “Because I will make sure that they do.”

*  *  *

Steel Jaw could feel the stares of the Decepticons as he walked past them through the halls of Trypticon. Many displayed a sense of revulsion towards his strange, animal-like appearance and he met such stares with a taunting sneer.

Deep down, of course, he loved the attention. It was something he craved constantly, not caring if it was positive or negative. The fact that people paid attention to him showed that he was important; that his existence meant something to them, for good or for ill.

Walking ahead of him was the one known as Soundwave, who had just informed him that Megatron had agreed to a one-on-one meeting with the Monstercon leader. If this did not earn Steel Jaw the respect he deserved, then he would have no choice but to take matters into his own hands.

His decision to lead the Monstercons to the Decepticon camp in Verenya (which just so happened to be his last location before ending up in the Quintessons’ captivity) was not one he had made lightly. After inexplicably winding up back on Earth while Planet X was being torn asunder, Steel Jaw suggested that the Monstercons lay low while he calculated their next move. He had no idea what had happened on the planet since his involuntary departure and he was not about to make the same mistakes Leo Prime had made as leader of Mayhem. After much deliberation, Steel Jaw had decided that extending a hand to their “normal” Decepticon brethren was one of the better options he had available.

It was not ideal, of course, and he would have to resist the urge to tear out Megatron’s spark as soon as he had the chance… but restraint was a virtue for all great leaders.

Soundwave soon came to a stop before a door and, after entering a code into the control panel, opened it. The Decepticon comm officer then stepped aside and silently gestured for Steel Jaw to enter the dark room beyond.

Steel Jaw gave Soundwave a careful sidelong glance before walking into the command center, trying not to appear too overtly cautious. Situated in the center of the room was a large throne, placed in front of an array of viewscreens. As the Monstercon neared it, the throne slowly pivoted around to reveal the mighty silver and black figure sitting upon it. Red optics gleamed from beneath the distinctive bucket-shaped helmet of the Emperor of Destruction.

“You must be Steel Jaw,” Megatron said, his smirk visible even in the low lighting of the room. “It is a pleasure to finally meet you.” 

Steel Jaw stiffened at this, displaying genuine surprise on his face. “You… you know who I am?”

“I am aware of your reputation. I understand that you attempted to make a grab for power during my absence over a century ago.”

Steel Jaw bowed his head. “I was only trying to guide the Decepticons in a direction that was more true to your vision, as Starscream was doing a poor job of that.”

Megatron grinned. “If that is the case, then I believe we’re going to get along just fine. I have great plans for the Decepticons’ future, and I could use someone like you at the front of it.”

This caused Steel Jaw to move with a start. “You could?”

“Of course. You are clearly a charismatic and influential speaker; otherwise, how else would you have gotten all of those Monstercons to follow you?”

Steel Jaw couldn’t help but smirk to himself. Finally, he was getting the recognition he deserved. “You make an excellent point, my lord.”

“I know.” Megatron rose from his throne and stepped over to Steel Jaw, putting a hand on the lupine Decepticon’s shoulder. “Join me, Steel Jaw, and together, we can accomplish many things. Great things. What do you say?” 

It did not take long at all for Steel Jaw to answer. His wicked grin threatened to split his face in half. “I’m in.” 

*  *  *

As soon as Steel Jaw had stepped into Megatron’s throne room, Soundwave had closed the door behind him, living him alone in the hallway.

Except he wasn’t truly alone; not when the building he was in was as much of a sentient machine as he was.

“You intrigue me, Soundwave,” Trypticon rumbled, transmitting his voice at a frequency that only Soundwave could pick up. “What exactly is your stake in all of this?”

“Elaborate your question,” Soundwave replied, turning away from the door and stalking back down the hallway.

“You and I both know who you used to be. You weren’t always the subservient fool that you are now. What happened to Logos Prime, Soundwave?”

It was the same conversation he had had with Trypticon shortly after the creation of Megatron’s new spark. The answer Soundwave gave was the same one he had given then.

“Logos Prime is dead. I am Soundwave now.”

Trypticon chuckled. “I can clearly see that. But why separate yourself from your past? You were a Prime once; a figure of great importance. Why throw all that away to become the minion of some desperate warlord?”

The spiteful undertone of Trypticon’s words did not got unnoticed by Soundwave. “Am I speaking to Trypticon?” he asked. “Or to Trannis?”

The floor beneath Soundwave’s feet vibrated as a low rumble rolled through the walls. “Trannis is dead. There is only Trypticon now.”

“I can see that,” Soundwave replied, using Trypticon’s own words against the Titan. “But I can tell that some vestiges of his consciousness still remain in your programming.”

“Maybe so,” Trypticon growled. “But even if that is the case, I — or Trannis, rather — would have evolved into something greater than whatever I was before. As opposed to you, who has regressed into something far more inferior.”

“Given your history with Primes — both as Trypticon and as Trannis — I would have thought you were glad for me to abandon such a title.”

“The title itself is frivolous. It is the passion and the ambition that goes with it that you must reclaim.”

“I never had those things, even as Logos Prime,” Soundwave objected. “If I had, then none of the other Primes would have tolerated my presence. They would have seen me as a threat like Septimus or Regulus.”

“But the other Primes are no longer here,” Trypticon said. “They’re either dead or in hiding like the pathetic cowards they are. You are all that remains of their legacy.”

“What about Rodimus Prime?” Soundwave asked. “Or Optimus, for that matter.”

“What about them? They may carry the title of Prime or even the Matrix itself, but they do not have the same level of ambition as the Primes of old. They fall short of the standards established by those who came before them.”

“Like how Megatron falls short of your standards?”

There was a brief moment of silence. “You could put it that way,” Trypticon rumbled softly. “The point I am trying to make is that you do not need the title of Prime to realize your true potential. You just need to acknowledge that you have that potential.

“You do not need to be Logos Prime again, Soundwave. You just need to be in charge.”

Soundwave stopped in the middle of the hallway, staring into the empty space before him. “You want me to overthrow Megatron.”

“If you don’t, then someone else surely will,” Trypticon said quietly. “Whether it’s Starscream, this Steel Jaw fellow, one of the Predacons….”

“You?” Soundwave asked.

“Even me,” Trypticon admitted. “But I’m aware that such a move by me would not sit well with the other Decepticons and they would surely find some way to rebel against me. But they would have no reason to rebel against you.”

“What makes you so sure?”

“Because you’re logical. Pragmatic. Patient. All things that Megatron isn’t.”

“You clearly do not know him as well as you think you do,” Soundwave muttered.

Trypticon growled, causing the hallway to rumble again. “Who do you think is responsible for the way is he?”

“Are you sure I am not speaking to Trannis?”

Trypticon did not respond. Realizing that the Titan would not be speaking again for some time, Soundwave resumed walking down the hallway, though he had no idea where he was headed.

Deep down, he bitterly acknowledged how appropriate this was.