Star Wars: Vergence II, Chapter Nine

 CHAPTER NINE

One by one, the six ships carrying Toah Jarsan and the rest of his party, as well as the mysterious Ochi, dropped out of hyperspace and began their approach of the green and blue planet that lay up ahead. Toah leaned forward in his seat, peering over Ochi’s shoulder to get a better look at the planet.

“Lothal,” he murmured. “Interesting.”

“Have you been here before?” asked Rey.

“No, but I’ve heard of it. It was the site of a major uprising against the Empire, just before the Battle of Yavin.” To Ochi, Toah said, “Can you open up a comm channel to the others?”

Without a word, Ochi did as asked. Toah then got up and slid into the seat next to Ochi, ignoring the other’s glare as he spoke into the comm. “I was not aware that Lothal was one of the Church of the Force’s locations, Father Chek.”

“It hasn’t been for some time,” replied the Abednedo priest. “After the fall of the Empire, the Church started to expand as it came out of hiding and some pilgrims settled here as part of that expansion. However, after the massacre on Sicemon sixteen years ago, many of us went back into hiding to escape the Sith’s wrath and Lothal was among the locations we abandoned.”

“Were you there on Lothal when the massacre on Sicemon happened?” Toah heard Nira Maren ask.

“No, I was on Spintir at the time.”

“Can this wait?” Ochi growled. “I have no interest in hearing your guys’ life stories. Let’s just get that blasted map.”

While Toah shot him a look, Chek Urhed said over the comm, “Agreed. We should focus on the task at hand. We’ll meet up at the spaceport in Capital City.”

As the six ships proceeded towards the planet of Lothal, Toah leaned back in his chair to look at Ochi, who had his attention focused on the viewport.

“Once we find the map,” he said quietly, “you’re going to have a lot of explaining to do.”

Ochi did not so much as glance at him. “You don’t trust me.”

“I don’t know enough about you to tell whether or not I trust you. If you want me to trust you, then it would be nice to know a little bit more about you.”

“And if I don’t want you to trust me?”

To this, Toah had nothing to say. Nor did Ochi seem to wait for a response as he continued to pilot the Bestoon Legacy towards Lothal in silence. 

*  *  *

Cara Jalvon, governor of Lothal, sipped from a mug of caf as she sat alone at a conference table. The Board of Representatives had just adjourned, leaving her alone in the meeting room. She would have returned to her office by this point, but she wasn’t exactly in a hurry to do so. She just knew that there would be some form of bad news waiting for her there, whether it be another accident occurring on the city’s outskirts or another rejection for her appeal to the Galactic Senate for aid. For now, she would enjoy this brief moment of respite for as long as she could before facing the inevitable.

As she set down the warm mug, a knock sounded at the door. Holding back a sigh, she said, “Come in.”

The door whooshed open and a thin, pale-skinned humanoid walked in, holding a datapad in his hand. His long, noseless face was as blank and stoic as it had always been. In all of the years she had known him, Jalvon had never once seen the Muun smile. Sometimes she wondered if he was even capable of doing so.

Keeping her hands on her mug, Jalvon asked, “What is it, Bix?”

“Someone by the name of ‘Hux’ left a message for you,” said Bix Kreeon, handing her the datapad. “It sounded like they wanted to speak with you as soon as possible.”

Jalvon’s heart skipped a beat at the name and she numbly took the device. Her mouth went dry as her eyes roved over the screen on the datapad, trying to process each word as she read them.

“Dear Governor. I believe it would be most prudent for us to speak in person again. Big changes are on the way and you should be prepared for them for the benefit of your people. We can help you with that. You know our frequency code. Give us a call as soon as is convenient and Lothal will be kept safe from harm. Yours Ever, Hux.”

The letter was written in a way that one could have easily missed the veiled threat that was as plain as day to Jalvon’s trained eyes. She had had enough experience dealing with political adversaries to spot such things. However, unlike with those cases, she was helpless to do anything but comply with the wishes of these people. She knew exactly what they were capable of and was not about to put the lives of millions at jeopardy with bold defiance. She was a governor, not some naïve, hotshot wannabe-hero.

With a sigh, Jalvon handed the datapad back to Bix as she rose from her seat. “I’ll be in my office shortly. Thank you for letting me know.”

The Muun merely gave her a nod as she walked past him and headed out of the room, taking long strides to her office in a vain attempt to maintain some illusion of confidence. It wasn’t until she had walked in and sat down at her desk that she realized that she had forgotten her mug of caf. Then again, she really didn’t have the stomach for it anymore.

After keying in the frequency code, Jalvon interlaced her fingers together and took a deep breath as she leaned forward in her seat.

“This is Governor Cara Jalvon of Lothal. I wish to speak to General Hux….”

*  *  *

After landing in the spaceport of Lothal’s capital city, the Jedi and Resistance agents (plus Ochi) had met up outside a cantina not far from the docking bays. Accompanying them as well was Poe Dameron’s astromech droid BB-8, whom Poe said could help them get into any facilities that “needed getting into,” as he had put it. Rey had noticed Ochi shift uncomfortably at this addition but otherwise did not vocally object to the ball-shaped droid’s presence.

“All right then,” he said, crossing his arms as he looked at Chek Urhed. “Where is this map?”

Chek Urhed raised a finger. “It is not here in the city. It is in a place beyond the outskirts. We’ll have to take a landspeeder to get there.”

Ochi bristled. “Why didn’t you just have us land outside the city then?”

“It would have been too dangerous. In fact, we would have most surely died.”

“I take it we’ll understand what you mean by that when we get there?” asked Poe.

Chek nodded. “Quickly now,” he said, already starting to walk. “Let us not waste any more time.”

After finding and purchasing two landspeeders, the group began making their way outside of the city and out into the frontier land that laid beyond. Rey sat in a speeder with Poe, Finn, Snap, and Jessika (with BB-8 occupying the driver’s socket) while Toah, Nira, Chek, and Ochi took the other. She had wanted to accompany Toah in their speeder, but her teacher had insisted that she ride with Poe and the others. Something told her that his reasoning had something to do with Ochi, but whatever it was, he had not voiced it.

As the speeders made their trek across Lothal’s plains, Rey spared a glance at Finn, who was sitting next to her. The ex-stormtrooper was shifting uncomfortably, glancing intermittently over his shoulder.

“Is something wrong?” she asked him.

“I’m fine,” he muttered, unconvincingly. “Just… have a weird feeling about this place.”

Rey frowned as she took a moment to focus her senses. There was indeed something off about this place; a feeling which only deepened the further they went. Whatever place they were headed, it was strong in the Force… though she wondered how Finn was able to notice it while Poe and the others with her didn’t. She decided to save such questions for later as the speeders finally reached their destination. 

Mounds of grass surrounded a patch of dry land, forming a circle around a wide, expansive area. After parking their landspeeders beside one of the large mounds, the team disembarked from their vehicles and stepped out into the circle, with Chek Urhed leading the way. Rey quickly moved up to walk alongside Toah, looking around the area warily.

“The Force,” she whispered. “It feels like it’s… everywhere here.”

Toah slowly nodded, looking as awed as she was feeling, but otherwise said nothing. As they reached the center of the field, Chek brought them to a halt and motioned for them to be quiet.

“He does not take kindly to visitors,” the Abednedo priest murmured.

“Who’s ‘he?’” Ochi asked impatiently, his hand resting on a holstered blaster.

“The keeper of the map. Protector of this place. A Jedi Temple once stood here, long ago, before it was destroyed by the Empire.”

“That would explain why it is so strong with the Force,” said Nira Maren.

“Indeed. Which is why the pilgrims chose this location as their place of worship.”

“Can we stop with the history lessons already?” Ochi snapped. “Where is this blasted keeper?”

Chek inclined his head to the west. “That should be him on his way right now.”

Everyone turned in the direction the Abednedo had indicated. Approaching them was a tall figure in pristine white armor, a cape the color of snow billowing behind them. In their hand was a lightsaber that had already been ignited, its blue blade shimmering in the sunlight.

Rey wasn’t sure what to make of the stranger until she noticed how everyone else was reacting. Toah and Nira already had their lightsabers drawn, shock plastered on their faces, while Ochi was staggering back, heavy breathing coming from the vocalizer of his mask.

“Oh, karabast…” he was muttering. “Oh, frakking, frakking karabast….”

“Truer words have never been spoken,” said Poe, raising his blaster along with Snap and Jessika. “Is this some kind of joke?”

Rey frowned in confusion and she looked to Finn, who was slowly drawing his own blaster. “Am I missing something? Who is this person?”

“Don’t tell me you don’t know who that is,” Snap said incredulously. “Even someone as young as you should know what Darth frakking Vader looks like!”

“Of course I know what Darth Vader looks like,” Rey snapped at him. “But he wore black armor. And he’s dead. This person can’t be him.”

“Either way, they have very poor taste in fashion.” Poe glanced at Chek. “Mind explaining yourself already?”

The Abednedo shook his head. “I’m sure he can do a better job than I ever could.”

Everyone remained tense as the man in white armor finished his approach. Coming to stand between two grassland mounds, he observed the group of nine (plus one droid) through blue-tinted lenses, heavy mechanical breathing coming through the vent of his mouthpiece. When he spoke, his low baritone voice reverberated in all of their ears.

“Why have you come here?”

Chek Urhed stepped forward and bowed his head. “Master Skywalker. These travelers seek the map to—”

“Wait,” Toah said. “Did you just call him ‘Master Skywalker?’”

The white-armored man inclined his head towards the Jedi. “Toah Jarsan. It has been a long time.”

Toah’s eyebrow knitted in confusion. “How do you know who I am? Who even are you?”

“These days, I go by the name Kane Skywalker. I would like to think that you have not forgotten me.”

Toah’s eyes went wide and he shut his lightsaber off. “Kane? By the stars… I thought you had died.”

“We all did,” said Nira Maren, switching off her own saber. “A few years after the Glorian War, he and Wallen Nix, the detective, headed off in search of lost Jedi outposts. Only a few weeks later, Wallen returned alone and informed us that Skywalker had gone off on his own to answer something… ‘calling’ to him. We were able to verify that Wallen was telling us the truth but unable to reach out to Skywalker himself. Years went by and, by the time the Sith returned, we all thought the worst had befallen him.”

Poe lowered his blaster, still eying the white replica of Vader warily. “So you’ve been here this whole time?”

“More or less,” replied Kane Skywalker. “I sensed a vergence in the Force and I began following it. During my journey, I crossed paths with Lor San Tekka and his followers and with their help I was able to find Lothal. It wasn’t long after that Father Chek here entrusted me with his map. I have been guarding both it and this site ever since.”

“Well, that answers that,” said Snap Wexley. “But it doesn’t answer why you call yourself ‘Skywalker.’ Or why you’re dressed the way you are.”

“He calls himself ‘Skywalker’ because he is one,” Toah said. “He’s a clone of Anakin Skywalker, created by Darth Vorath and served as his Shadow Hand under the name Darth Nemesis.”

“So he’s a Sith then,” Poe said.

“Former Sith,” Toah corrected him. “He turned to the light a long time ago.”

“Yet he dresses like… this.”

Toah opened his mouth only to stop and look at Kane, an eyebrow raised. “That is a good point. Why are you in that suit?”

Before Kane had a chance to answer him, if he was even going to, Jessika Pava suddenly spoke up. “Hey. Where’s that other guy?”

She was answered by the sound of an engine humming to life. Everyone turned to see one of the two landspeeders they had brought peeling away, Ochi sitting in the driver’s seat. As Poe and Snap cried in alarm, Kane Skywalker raised an arm and the speeder froze in place. Ochi released a series of curses as he desperately tried to regain control of the vehicle as Kane slowly dragged it back towards him. Realizing his efforts would be futile, Ochi jumped out of the speeder and broke into a brisk run, running faster than Rey had ever seen from a sentient being with only two legs.

Poe and Snap started firing their blasters only for Kane to stop them.

“There is no need,” the white-armored Jedi said coolly. “He will be dealt with shortly.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Poe asked.

But Kane did not answer him. Instead, he finally shut off his lightsaber as he turned to face Rey, Toah, and the others.

“Now then… I believe I have a map to give you.” 

*  *  *

Ochi of Bestoon had only made it halfway to the city when his legs finally gave out and he collapsed onto his knees. Panting heavily, he raised a hand to the side of his helmet to switch on his comlink.

“Finalizer, come in. This is Ochi. I’m on Lothal. I’ve found the map and then some. Sending you coordinates now so you can—”

“No need, Ochi,” came the cool voice of General Hux. “We have already arrived.”

Ochi blinked behind his mask. “Arrived? What are you….”

He trailed off as his eyes drifted up towards the sky and saw the triangular-shaped vessel emerging from the clouds. A black shuttle with large wings, flanked by a flock of TIE fighters, flew out from the Star Destroyer’s hangar bay and down towards the city.

“No,” Ochi murmured. “You can’t be serious. What do you think you’re doing?!”

“Abiding the will of the Supreme Leader, Ochi of Bestoon. Whatever else?”

Ochi could only gape in awe as the forces of the First Order descended upon the capital city of Lothal. Had he not been distracted, he would have perhaps seen whatever it was that chose at that moment to begin firing its laser cannons at him.

By that point, he was already back on his feet and running like hell towards the city.

Star Wars: Vergence II, Chapter Eight

 CHAPTER EIGHT

Upon first seeing Ochi’s ship, Rey felt her entire world screech to a halt.

As she stared upon the otherwise unremarkable block-shaped vessel, memories that she had long since repressed started to bubble to the surface. Suddenly, she was six years old again, crying out at a ship retreating into the sky while a gruff hand tugged on her tiny arm.

“Come back! Come back!” But the ship did not heed her, no matter how loud she cried, and it became smaller and smaller until it was nothing more than a tiny dot in the sky. Tears stung her face as Unkar Plutt pulled her away—

“Rey?”

She snapped back to reality and saw Toah staring at her, a concerned look on his face. They were at the ramp leading onto the ship. Ochi looked back at her, his expression hidden by his mask, but he said nothing as he continued up the ramp. Rey moved to follow him only for Toah to rest a hand on her shoulder.

“Is something wrong?” he asked in a hushed tone.

She was about to say “No,” but realized that he would have seen right through that lie. Taking a deep breath, she said, “I’ve seen this ship before. In my dreams.”

“Are you sure it’s the same ship?”

“I don’t know. I’ve never seen another of its model before.”

“Neither have I.” Toah frowned to himself before gesturing Rey to follow him onto the ship. As soon as they were on board, the ramp closed behind them as Ochi started up the ship. The ship’s interior wasn’t very large; it was clearly a vessel meant for only one or two people. Supplies, tools, and even weapons were strewn about the main hold, though none of them looked like they would provide any insight into who or what Ochi exactly was. The two Jedi made their way to the ship’s cockpit, where Ochi was at the controls, and took the two seats behind his. As the ship lifted up towards the sky, Rey spotted the light freighter carrying Finn and Nira Maren up ahead, flanked by a trio of X-wings. Joining them was another ship, most likely carrying Chek Urhed, which the others proceeded to follow as they departed from Jakku.

“What model is this ship?” Toah said to Ochi, sounding as casual as if he was asking about the weather.

Ochi hesitated before answering, as if debating whether or not to speak at all. “A WTK-85A transport.”

“A WTK,” Toah repeated, scratching his chin. “Isn’t that a SubPro product?”

Another moment of hesitation. “Yes.”

“Interesting.” Toah leaned back in his seat, appearing to be deep in thought. Rey looked to him, hoping to find some insight as to what he was trying to accomplish. However, her teacher would not so much as meet her gaze.

“Do you have a name for it?” Toah then asked.

Ochi sighed, not bothering to hide his exasperation. “The Bestoon Legacy.”

“Bestoon…. You introduced yourself as Ochi of Bestoon earlier, didn’t you? Is that the name of a planet or—”

“Enough questions,” Ochi snapped. “I fly better in silence.”

Toah nodded, even though Ochi couldn’t see him from where he was facing, and said nothing further. Rey stared at him and he finally met her gaze, only to give her a tiny shake of the head.

Patience, was the only thing he communicated to her through the Force. Sighing quietly, she returned her attention to the viewport as the Bestoon Legacy cleared Jakku’s atmosphere and entered the blackness of space. After receiving the coordinates from Chek, Ochi punched them into the navigational computer and, within minutes, the stars streaked into lines of white as they made the jump into hyperspace.

*  *  *

“Rise, Brother Vizun.”

Vizun Naris rose to his extend height, his long black and red robes cascading down to cover his feet. He kept his hooded head bowed as the cloaked figure in front of him resumed speaking.

“What progress have you made?”

“Very little, I’m afraid,” Vizun replied. “The data we found remains encrypted and I’ve been trying desperately to find a slicer who will be able to decode it. Unfortunately, I have yet to find any success in that regard.”

“Alas, it is to be expected. Even to this day, much information pertaining to the period of the Galactic Wars remain lost. The Sith of Darth Mortilus were quite thorough in that regard.”

The two of them began to walk down the empty halls of the temple, surrounded by stone pillars that had survived the test of time. For countless generations, the temple had served as home to the last remaining members of the Revanite cult, after it had been reformed some time during the Draggulch Period two thousand years ago. Operating outside of the Sith, the Revanites had continued their worship of the ancient Sith Lord Darth Revan, dedicating their lives towards recovering and preserving anything they could find pertaining to the Dark Lord and his extended family. The planet of Talravin itself had been chosen as the cult’s gathering place as it had once been the homeworld of Jedi Master Bastila Shan, whom Revan went on to marry and start a family with. His bloodline would continue for the next three centuries, extending into the period of the Galactic Wars. 

However, any records on Revan’s descendants past that point became lost around the time of Republic Dark Age when, in 1100 BBY, the Sith Lord Darth Mortilus commenced a data-attack that either corrupted or outright erased many records on the history of both the Sith and the Jedi, hoping to reshape the galactic community’s perception of the Jedi and sway their allegiance in the Sith’s favor. While most of the records from the Old Sith Wars and earlier had been recovered, much from the Galactic Wars period remained lost to time. Complicating matters even further were conflicting reports as to the identities and lives of important figures who lived during those times and had helped shape the course of the galaxy.

Because of the broad amount of information that had yet to be found, Vizun and his fellow Revanites had instead narrowed their search to only those who had been connected to Darth Revan himself. While they had been able to recover and piece together a majority of Revan’s family tree leading up to and including his descendant Satele Shan and her son Theron, anything afterward was a mystery. Some of Vizun’s more pessimistic colleagues took this to mean that Revan’s bloodline had died with Theron Shan; however, twenty years ago, a member named Avner had found evidence that Theron Shan had sired at least one child, though their identity — as well as if whether or not they had lived long enough to continue the bloodline — was unclear. To complicate things further, Avner had later been killed by the Sith Order he had been sent to infiltrate and the information had once again been lost. It was only recently that Vizun, through the efforts of his daughter Lysira, had been able to recover that information, though it had been heavily encrypted since it had been in Avner’s possession. Despite Vizun’s best efforts, it had remained in that state for the past two years.

The two of them eventually reached a wide antechamber, where other members of the cult were gathered. Their numbers had thinned in the last several years; where once there had been hundreds, now there were only half a dozen. All of them were arranged in a circle around the center of the chamber, their heads bowed as their hoods concealed their faces.

While Vizun took position between two of his fellow cultists, the one he had been following stepped out into the center of the circle. They raised their arms as they addressed the other five.

“Brothers and sisters, I have good news to deliver to you. After many months of meditation and painstaking work, I have at last unlocked the secrets of the holocron that Brother Vizun provided us.”

The Revanite reached into their cloak and produced a pyramidal-shaped Sith holocron, raising it high for all to see. Vizun had smuggled it from Lady Saarai’s Sith library on Jaguada just before Lysira had ordered for it to be destroyed. Of all the holocrons that had been in the possession of Darth Sedriss’ Sith Order, this one had intrigued Vizun the most due to the fact that none of the twelve Sith Masters in the Order had been able to open it as well as the fact that it had supposedly belonged to a Sith Lord who lived during the time of the Galactic Wars. While it may have had little to do with Darth Revan, it would have nonetheless provided them with an insight as to the era that had been forgotten.

“Yes, my friends,” the Revanite went on. “This holocron is none other than that of Darth Nox, Lord of the Dark Council and last known overseer of the Pyramid of Ancient Knowledge!”

Gasps rang out from the court. “Impossible,” exclaimed one acolyte. “I thought Darth Imperius was the one who held that honor.”

“You were mistaken, Sister Drista,” the Revanite said coolly. “The holocron does not lie. Behold, my brethren, the dark secrets of Lady Nox hersel—”

A chill fell over the room. The Revanite suddenly ceased speaking, tucking the holocron away in their cloak. Vizun felt himself shiver as the other acolytes exchanged glances whilst murmuring amongst themselves. The leader of the Revanites affixed their gaze on him, eyes cold with rage.

“Were you followed?” they hissed.

Vizun hastily shook his head. “No. At least, I don’t think so.”

“Lies,” muttered another cultist. “We are not alone. Someone is here.”

“How perceptive of you.”

The voice was loud, modulated as if coming from some sort of apparatus. All six acolytes drew their lightsabers, bathing the chamber with red light.

“You should have done better to hide yourself, Vizun Naris,” the voice continued, coming from all around them. “This new life of yours isn’t much different from your old one.”

“Explain yourself, Brother Vizun,” said the female acolyte from before. “Who is this intruder?”

“I swear to you, I have no idea who this is!” snapped Vizun.

“They obviously know of you,” said another. “Clearly they must—”

The cultist let out a shriek as a dark shape suddenly moved from the shadows and cut through the cultist with a crackling red blade. As the acolyte crumpled to the ground, two others moved to attack the intruder, only to meet the same fate. Down to only three, the remaining Revanites — Vizun, the leader, and Sister Drista — backed away from their assailant, raising their lightsabers in defensive positions. Their attacker, who was clad in all-black robes and wore a face-concealing mask, slowly approached them, crossguard lightsaber in hand.

“You and your fellow Sith seem to be very attached to the past,” said the dark man. “Always looking to those who came before in order to solve the mysteries of today.”

“Don’t posture us with your insolent riddles,” snapped the Revanite leader. “You clearly know nothing of what you—”

They failed to react in time as the warrior swung his saber and cut them down. Vizun and his remaining Sister continued to back away, gripping their weapons tightly.

“The problem with constantly looking behind you,” the warrior went on, undeterred, “is that you sometimes fail to see what is in front of you.”

“Who are you?” breathed Sister Drista. “You seem strong in the Force. I can sense it.”

“My name does not matter to you. Dead men have no need of such knowledge.”

“We need not kill each other.” Keeping her lightsaber activated, Drista through back her hood, revealing a round shaved head. “Perhaps we are more like than unlike each other than either of us realizes.”

“I doubt it.” The masked man tilted his head. “However, I may consider sparing you if you give me the man I have come here for.”

“You mean Brother Vizun?”

Vizun gave his fellow acolyte an incredulous look. “Sister Drista, you can’t seriously be considering—”

She turned to face him, her face displaying no signs of sympathy. “I’m sorry, Brother Vizun, but sometimes sacrifices must be made. Rest assured that your memory will—”

Vizun opened his mouth to cry out but the unstable crimson blade had already sliced through Drista before he could even say her name. As her body crumpled to the floor, he was left standing alone before the masked warrior. Sighing in resignation, he shut off his lightsaber and tossed it aside.

“What are you waiting for?” he said, spreading his arms wide. “Kill me.”

“Not yet,” the masked man replied. “First, I need to know the locations of your fellow Sith. I’ve already dealt with Su Koda and Count Valmar, and I know that Zarmach, Saarai, Paxis, Serpriss, and Versutus are already accounted for. That just leaves you and three others.”

Vizun narrowed his eyes. “You’re one of them, aren’t you? One of Taral’s followers.”

“I am no follower of Taral,” the masked man said sharply. “Although if you are aware of his location as well, I would much appreciate such information.”

Vizun felt his heart skip a beat. He had, in fact, recently received communication from his daughter Lysira, whom he had not spoken to since she had disbanded her Sith Order following the Battle of Mandalore. In her message, she had told him where she had gone to and that she had started a family with Varon, whom he had long suspected of having been her lover. She had offered to have him stay with them on Damosus, perhaps even become the new home for the Order of Revan as it had once been thousands of years ago. He found himself feeling grateful now that he had not yet taken her up on the offer; otherwise, he would have doomed his family to the same fate he was about to suffer.

Looking into the slit of his soon-to-be murderer’s mask, he said, “I will tell you nothing.”

“No.” The man raised a hand to Vizun’s face. “You will tell me everything.”

Vizun screamed as he entered a world of pain. Memories and knowledge were forced to the surface of his mind, which he did everything in his power to keep at bay. But the masked man was too strong, too powerful for him to fight back against. The names spilled out of his mouth without filter.

When he was done, he collapsed onto the floor, panting heavily. Kylo Ren held his lightsaber above his neck, ready to deliver the fatal blow.

“Thank you for your cooperation,” was the last thing he heard before everything went dark.  

Star Wars: Vergence II, Chapter Seven

CHAPTER SEVEN

 Cato Neimoidia

“Will you be attending the Chief of State’s banquet this weekend, Mistress Koda?”

Su Koda watched as her glass was filled with a violet liquid. “I haven’t really given it much consideration,” she admitted. “I doubt I will, to be honest. The Coruscant crowd has never been my type.”

“Still, it was generous of him to send you an invitation.” After she was finished pouring her mistress’ drink, the young Neimoidian maid drew the bottle of Tarul wine away from the glass. “Is there anything else you will be needing, Mistress Koda?”

“No, that will be all. Thank you, Villia.”

With a graceful bow, the maid departed from the room, leaving Su Koda to herself. The Neimoidian woman raised the glass to her thin lips and sipped from it, savoring the bitter taste of the wine. She allowed her eyes to drift across the room, which she had decorated with all sorts of memorabilia that held sentimental value to her. The golden painting hanging over her fireplace, which had once been in the possession of Senator Lott Dod during the Clone Wars, depicted a beautiful and elaborately dressed Neimoidian whom Su Koda believed to be her ancestor. In any case, she had styled much of her own way of dressing after the woman depicted in the painting. Situated on top of her bookcase was a marble bust carved in the likeness of General Lok Durd, gifted to her by a suitor whom she had come close to marrying before his sudden death. Prominently displayed below it was a rare first edition copy of The Artistry of Trade by Nute Gunray, just before it had been pulled off shelves in the wake of the Trade Federation’s invasion of Naboo. Her father had passed it down to her shortly before his own passing. The memories these things brought were more bittersweet than she would have liked, but she cherished them all the same.

Taking another sip, she cast her gaze to the window, which provided her with a view of the clouds that hung below the bridge city of Koda-se. Suspended between two massive rock arches, the bridge city was considered to be one of the largest on all of Cato Neimoidia, rivaling that of the capital city Zarra. It had belonged to her family for generations and she had practically spent her entire life here, having scarcely returned to her birth-world of Neimoidia since her coming of age. She saw little need to, when everything she could possibly was right here. That was part of the reason why she had no desire to attend Luewet Wuul’s little gathering on Coruscant; anything the Sullustan politician could cook up in a vain attempt to appease his guests would pale in comparison to what was already at her fingers here in Koda-se. It would no doubt be an amusing if pathetic display, of course, and she was half-tempted to send Neimoidia’s senator in her place, if only so she could hear about how terrible it was.

Her continued sips of the Tarul wine were the only sounds that pervaded the room. Her evenings had become quieter than normal in the past year. Normally she would have spent this time chatting with her friend Lysira or with her protégé Draida. But she hadn’t heard from Lysira in quite sometime and Draida… well, Draida had paid the price that all delinquent students suffered, even if it had been a bit bloodier than Su Koda would have liked. In any case, the Neimoidian businesswoman had been left with no one else to talk to. Sure, there was Villia, but as sweet as the young woman was, conversations with her were nowhere near as stimulating as the ones Su Koda had had with Lysira or even Draida. She needed someone who challenged her intellect and understood her, leveling with her as an equal.

Of course, there was one person she knew of that fit that criteria, though it was someone she hadn’t spoken to in quite some time. Part of it was out of fear that Villia would overhear, and Su Koda desperately did not want to have to get rid of the girl. Still, Villia usually only disturbed her every other hour or so, spending much of her time tidying up and maintaining the palace that Su Koda considered her home. The maid had enough work to preoccupy her for at least another hour, which would be more than enough time for Su Koda to confide in her sole remaining friend.

After a couple more sips, Su Koda finally caved in and set the glass aside. Rising from her comfortable sofa, she glided across the room to the bookcase on the other side. She gave the bust of Lok Durd a series of seven taps and a small panel in the wall next to it slid open, revealing a pyramidal-shaped object. As she brought her hands to it and carefully pulled it out of its little alcove, a crimson glow began to radiate from the object. Drawing in a deep breath, she pressed a control switch and the holocron split open. From it sprung forth the ghostly image of a tall, portly man with dark hair. He appraised Su Koda with a jovial look as he spoke to her in a smooth, almost velvety voice.

“Hello, my friend,” the image of Darth Vectivus said. “How may I be of assistance to you?”

If one hadn’t known better, they would have thought they were speaking to an old kindly uncle rather than an ancient Dark Lord of the Sith. Though, in a way, Darth Vectivus might as well have been both, at least in Su Koda’s eyes.

“I know it’s been quite some time since we last spoke, Lord Vectivus,” Su Koda said quietly to the holocron. “Life has been… busy, recently.”

“Please, call me Jon. I’d say we’ve known each other long enough to be on a first name basis.”

Su Koda couldn’t help but smile wryly. Of all the Sith Lords from the lineage established by Darth Bane, Vectivus had been perhaps one of the least traditional ones. Born as Jon Exivar on Ayceezee, he had graduated from college with high marks before going on to pursue a career in business. This culminated in the founding of the JonEx Corporation, or simply Jonex for short, and the establishment of a mining facility in the MZX32905 system, which Exivar operated from an asteroid near the planet which would later be named Bimmiel. A simple man with a simple life, Jon Exivar was the last person anyone would have expected to become a Lord of the Sith.

However, as it happened, the asteroid Jonex operated on was greatly imbued with the dark side of the Force and over time Exivar’s employees began to lose their sanity. After ceasing operations in order to keep things secret, Jon Exivar began to explore this darkness he had discovered and before long he was on a search for the long-thought extinct Sith, whom he realized were still alive. His quest inevitably brought him to the attention of a Sith Master in a search of her own to pass on her knowledge to a worthy apprentice. Deeming Exivar to be that apprentice, she welcomed him into the Order of the Sith Lords and bestowed onto him the name Darth Vectivus.

While Vectivus would eventually strike down his master and claim the mantle of Dark Lord for himself, he seemingly did little else to further the Sith’s Grand Plan in taking over the galaxy. If he had, such details he not been recorded in his holocron; save for the Force phantom technique that he had developed, there was little else of note in the holocron beyond basic business advice and the Sith Lord’s own charming personality. Not that it mattered; not only were the fruits of the Banite Sith’s labors well-known by now, but Su Koda had no desire of her own to take over the galaxy some day. Right now, all she needed was a friend to talk to, and Darth Vectivus — or Jon Exivar — was that friend.

She brought the holocron back with her to the sofa and rested it in her lap as she sat down. With a sigh, she reached for her wine and resumed sipping from it.

“Things have been quiet lately,” she began. “Most of the people I would typically confide in are either gone or have moved on with their own lives. It has become difficult finding those who are on the same level as me intellectually and thus worth my time.”

Darth Vectivus nodded. “I understand the feeling. I felt the same way until I found the one who would become my Sith Master. Beyond her, I never truly got along with anybody.”

“After you killed your master, how did you fill in the gap she left?”

“By raising a family,” Vectivus said with a smile. “Instead of waiting for another person of my intellect to come along, I decided to just make one. And thus, my son was born.”

“Your son.” Su Koda raised a hairless eyebrow. This was the first time the holocron had spoken of its creator’s life beyond his life prior to becoming a Sith Lord. “And did your son meet your expectations?”

“Oh, he exceeded them. I couldn’t have been a prouder father.”

A Sith Lord who was a family man. Su Koda didn’t think such a thing was possible. “I’m happy to hear that,” she said. “However, I’m afraid a family is not within the cards. I’ve already exhausted most of my life in building up my enterprises; I have no desire in spending my remaining years in raising children.”

“Understandable. Still, there is another way to make people who understand you.”

Su Koda’s brows knitted in confusion. “And that would be?”

“The technique I taught you.”

She sighed. “I’ve tried making an attempt, but the process was too taxing for me.”

“You need to find a place that is imbued with the dark side. A reservoir, if you will. That will provide you with the strength you need.”

As tempting as the idea was, Su Koda did not have much desire to leave Cato Neimoidia to perform a task. Besides, people would start asking questions and she had already exhausted all of her sensible excuses during her time in Darth Sedriss’ Sith Order. The only other option would be to start silencing people, and she truly did not want anything bad happening to people like Villia. They didn’t deserve it.

“I’ll consider it,” she lied to the holocron. Hearing the approach of footsteps, she quickly thanked the Sith artifact for its advice before switching it off and springing across the room to return it to its alcove. Once the holocron was fully concealed, Su Koda turned around just in time to see Villia appear from around the corner.

“Is everything all right, Mistress Koda?” the young girl asked innocently.

“Everything is fine, Villia,” Su Koda replied. “I was just looking for a book to read. What brings you back here so soon?”

“I thought I heard something fly over the palace. I was going to step outside to see what it was.”

Su Koda frowned, suddenly aware of a strange tingle at the back of her mind. The Force was trying to tell her something; to warn her. But of what?

“I’ll go with you,” she said. “It might just be—”

The shrieking sound of blaster fire was the last thing she heard before everything around her fell apart. The walls of her palace collapsed and the ceiling caved in, quickly descending upon her and crushing her beneath its weight. 

As the residents of Koda-se emerged from their abodes to see the destruction for themselves first-hand, the TIE Silencer that had been responsible departed as quickly as it had arrived, leaving behind the chaos it had wrought.

Star Wars: Vergence II, Chapter Six

 CHAPTER SIX

By the time Toah and the others returned to Tuanul, with Unkar Plutt and his thugs in tow, the sun had already begun to set. Much to the surprise of the Jedi and their Resistance allies, Unkar and his gang were rather quick to get to work, with the Crolute junk boss barking out orders as Bar'derro and the others set about scouring the sands for the map. Chek Urhed provided everyone with tools to help them in their search and within less than a hour, they had already dug up a good percentage of the village.

“Credit where it’s due,” Poe Dameron said to the masked thug he was working with. “You guys have a pretty admirable work ethic.”

“Shut up and keep digging,” was all the thug would say to him.

The rest of the search carried on in silence, save for the gruff commands of Unkar Plutt. As the sun started to disappear behind the horizon and the sky began to darken, Poe and his teammates brought out tools that would help them see in the dark. Despite this, however, Unkar seemed to be growing more anxious by the minute as he glanced furtively between the setting sun and the work site.

“Can’t you guys work any faster?” he growled.

“I doubt working faster will turn up the map any quicker,” said Toah Jarsan. “Especially since we’re not even sure if its here.”

“It has to be here! Otherwise, we’re just wasting our time!”

“Relax,” said Snap Wexley, wiping sweat away from his brow. “The desert will still be there tomorrow. I say we take a break for now and wait until—”

“No!” Unkar bellowed, causing everyone to stop and look at him. “We can’t stop now! We must keep looking!”

“Somebody sounds eager,” remarked Poe. “I didn’t think you guys wanted the map that bad….”

Unkar did not respond to him, continuing to look towards the horizon. By this point, the sun had completely vanished, plunging the village of Tuanul into the dark of night. The Crolute’s breathing became more erratic as he turned back to his thugs and resumed barking orders at them, which they hastily complied. Toah and the others watched them oddly before returning to the task at hand.

No sooner had they resumed working when Toah saw Rey suddenly stop and perk up, her hazel eyes widening. Frowning, Toah set down his digging tools and walked over to her. Master Nira Maren paused as well, looking on in concern.

“Is everything all right?” Toah asked quietly.

“I… I thought I sensed something.” Rey turned her head to look in the direction of the starship graveyard that took up much of Jakku’s desert. “Something approaching us. Didn’t you feel it?”

Toah shook his head. “I didn’t sense anything. Then again, you are more attune to this world than either me or Master Maren. Perhaps….”

He paused, his words trailing off as his eyebrows came together in consternation. At the same time, Nira Maren shifted, her green hand drifting towards the lightsaber hilt hanging from her belt. Toah and Rey mimicked her, dropping their digging tools and replacing them with their lightsabers.

“Never mind,” Toah murmured. “I can sense it now.”

“What’s going on?” asked Poe. “What are you guys—”

“Whoa, hey!”

The exclamation came from Snap Wexley and everyone turned to see Unkar Plutt pointing a blaster at him. Finn and Jessika quickly dropped their tools and drew their own weapons while the thugs did the same, pointing them at the Resistance operatives.

“The hell do you think you’re doing?” Poe snapped, leveling his blaster at Unkar.

“I’m sorry,” the Crolute said, though Toah wasn’t sure if it was a genuine apology. “I didn’t realize the deadline would be so soon. Maybe I can buy myself some time by framing you… but I’m not holding my breath.”

“You’re not buying yourself time either by turning on us,” Poe said. “Drop the weapon, now. Same goes for all your goons.”

Unkar did not budge, keeping his blaster aimed at Snap’s head. His arm shook as he wrapped a pudgy finger around the trigger, beads of sweat dripping down his bloated face..

Toah took a step forward. “There’s no need for this, Unkar,” he said calmly. “We can sort this out. I can sense that there’s something troubling you. Talk to us and maybe we can—”

“No,” Unkar croaked. “It’s too late for that. Too late for all of us. He’s here now.”

“Who’s here?”

Before the Crolute could answer him, a small dart whistled through the air and struck Unkar right in the neck. The junk boss let out a small gasp and he dropped his blaster before falling to the ground himself, foaming at the mouth. Toah rushed over to the Crolute but there was no point in doing so; by the time he knelt by his side, Unkar Plutt was already dead.

“Master!” Rey cried out as more saberdarts zipped through the air, striking their targets with sharp precision. One by one, Bar'derro and the other thugs dropped to the ground, meeting the same fate as their boss. Toah, Rey, and Nira all ignited their lightsabers while Poe, Finn, Snap, and Jessika raised their blasters, pointing them aimlessly as they tried to determine which the direction the toxic darts had come from.

“I’m sorry, but those are all the ones I brought with me today,” a voice spoke out, coming from all directions. “Don’t worry, though. I don’t need any of you dead quite yet.”

“Show yourself,” Nira Maren called out, raising her emerald blade. “Who are you and what is your business here?”

As she said this, a figure suddenly emerged from the sands. Clad in an old, worn jumpsuit and a metal chestplate, the figure wore a fearsome mask that concealed his true features, though its eye slits had a yellow glow to them, not unlike that of a droid’s photoreceptors. As he straightened up, grains of sand pouring down from his body. The Jedi and their allies immediately turned to face him, weapons drawn, but the stranger made no move to attack them, instead staring at the eight of them from the narrow slits of his mask. 

“I take it that you’re searching for the map as well,” the masked stranger said. “Tell me, just what exactly is your interest in it?”

Toah exchanged uncertain glances with the others before speaking. “From what we understand, the map leads to a Jedi Temple that has been lost to history. Naturally, as Jedi ourselves, we are rather keen on finding this Temple.”

“Jedi, huh? Should have guessed from the lightsabers.” A momentary pause followed, before the stranger resumed speaking. “You’re Toah Jarsan, aren’t you?”

Toah raised an eyebrow. “Have we met before?”

“No, but I’ve heard of you. As the Jedi who defeated Darth Vorath, it would be hard not to.” The stranger tilted his head. “Though I must admit, you’re not much one for publicity, are you? With people like the Skywalkers and Solos, you’re always hearing about them. The HoloNet practically explodes when they find out what one of them had for breakfast. But you? I don’t think you’ve done anything of note in the past sixteen years. Please, correct me if I’m wrong.”

“I guess I’m just a simple man trying to make my way through the universe,” Toah muttered. “But since you know who I am, mind telling us who you are?”

“They call me Ochi of Bestoon,” the masked stranger said. “I’ll forgive you if you’ve never heard of me. Most people don’t live long enough to tell the tale.”

Toah sensed a strange ripple through the Force and he glanced over at Rey. His apprentice was staring at Ochi with wide eyes, the pace of her breathing increasing as she tightened her grip on her saber.

Ochi inclined his head towards her. “You’ve grown since the last time I saw you. How long has it been, again? Twenty years, I’d say, give or take.”

“Rey, do you know this man?” Toah asked quietly.

She shook her head. “No. At least, I don’t think so. Yet somehow… somehow he feels familiar.”

“We can catch up later.” Ochi returned his attention to Toah. “Look, I don’t see a need for us to be enemies. If you’re looking for the map as well, then maybe we can help each other out.”

“You expect us to trust you after you just killed all these guys?” said Finn, gesturing to the bodies of Unkar Plutt and his thugs.

“Unkar Plutt wasn’t the trustworthy sort,” Ochi replied. “He was only looking out for himself and would have surely turned on me if he got the chance. You, however… you Jedi aren’t the type to betray people. At least, most of you aren’t.”

“Not all of us are Jedi,” said Poe. “Just to let you know.”

“I am aware. Still, I don’t think the Jedi would work with you if they didn’t already trust you. Which is why you’re still standing and Unkar Plutt isn’t.”

More glances were exchanged. This time, it was Chek Urhed who first spoke up.

“What is your interest in the map?” the Abednedo priest asked.

“It’s obvious, surely,” Ochi said. “A map leading to the first Jedi Temple? Provided it’s legitimate, I could make a fortune off of something like that. Curators from Bar’leth and Braglon would be climbing over themselves to get their grubby hands on it.”

“You’re an archaeologist, then?” asked Nira.

Ochi hesitated briefly, but long enough for the eagle-eyed Jedi to notice. “You could put it like that.”

“I don’t know of any archaeologists that are comfortable with murdering people,” muttered Jessika Pava, glancing at Unkar Plutt’s corpse.

“You must not know that many archaeologists then,” Ochi retorted. “Besides, I saved you, didn’t I? If I hadn’t interfered, at least one of you would most likely be dead.”

“So what’s your offer, then?” asked Snap. “You help us find the map and we help you make a profit?”

Ochi pointed a finger at him. “Bang. Got it in one. Don’t worry, though; I don’t have much interest in the Jedi Temple itself, so once you find it, I won’t go blabbing its location to everyone else.”

Toah did not believe that last bit for a moment, nor did he think anyone else did. Still, he couldn’t shake the feeling that this Ochi person could be of possible use to them, especially if he knew something about Rey who was a mystery to Toah and everyone else that he knew of.

After a moment of silent deliberation, Toah shut off his lightsaber with Nira following suit. Rey was the last to do so, giving her master an odd look which was shared by Poe, Finn, and the others.

“We’re really doing this, aren’t we?” Poe muttered as he reluctantly lowered his blaster.

“At this point, we could use any help we can get,” Toah replied. To Ochi, whom he was still eying carefully, he asked, “I don’t suppose you have any idea where this map could be buried?”

“If I did, I wouldn’t have been wasting my time with people like that Crolute, would I?” Ochi replied.

Toah sighed in resignation. “We’ll have to wait until sunrise then. It’s too dark to be looking for anything at this point.”

“There’s no need for that.”

Everyone stopped to look over at Chek Urhed. The Abednedo priest hung his head, looking as if he was ashamed of what he was about to stay.

“I know where the map is,” he said quietly.

“What?” Poe exclaimed. “You knew this whole time? Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I wasn’t certain if you could be trusted. I knew Nira, of course, but I had not seen her in so long. I had to be sure of your intentions regarding the map before I confessed the truth. My apologies for the deception, but it was for the greater good.”

“Do you trust this guy, though?” Snap asked, pointing a thumb at Ochi. “Because so far, he hasn’t given us any reason to do so.”

Chek lifted his gaze to the masked warrior, eying Ochi of Bestoon carefully. “He has given me reason enough to tell the truth,” the Abednedo finally said.

When Chek did not provide further elaboration, Toah chose then to speak. “Is the map not on Jakku then?”

“No. It is off-world. Lor San Tekka gave it to me before I left on my sabbatical and I hid it on one of the planets I visited in my journey.”

“Christophsis?” asked Nira, recalling the world from their earlier conversations.

He shook his head. “No. Another world out in the Outer Rim, near Mon Cala.”

“Do you have a name?” Ochi pressed, not hiding his impatience.

Chek glared at him. “I do, but if I gave it to you now, you would likely kill us all here and now and leave for the planet yourself.”

Ochi bristled at this but made no further objections. Turning to the Abednedo, Toah said, “Will you lead us there?”

“I will,” Chek said with a nod. “My ship should be large enough for—”

“No,” Ochi interjected. “We’re taking my ship.”

Poe stepped forward. “We have a ship of our own, plus a few X-wings. We don’t need your ship.”

“I refuse to be a tag-along on anyone else’s—”

“Enough.” Toah stepped in between them. “There’s not much sense in leaving anyone’s ship behind. Rey and I will accompany Ochi on his ship. Chek will take his, Nira and Finn will take ours, and Poe, Snap, and Jessika will take their X-wings. We’ll all follow Chek to whatever this planet is.”

Nira gave him a look. “Are you certain this is wise?”

“Not really,” he admitted. “But I think it’s the best way to not make anyone too upset.”

“Fine by me,” said Poe. The others gave their own words of agreement, with Ochi’s sounding the most reluctant. 

“It’s settled then,” Toah said. “We leave now.”

BIONICLE: Another Fine Addition - A Multidimensional Short Story

 ANOTHER FINE ADDITION

3,500 years ago

“I’m sorry, brothers. I’m sorry it had to end like this.”

Toa Tuyet stood over the motionless bodies of Lhikan and Nidhiki, the Nui Stone glowing bright in her hand as a red cloud enveloped her whole body. Her two fellow Toa Mangai had made a noble attempt to stop her, but their efforts had ultimately been futile. Now sapped of their Toa energy and deprived of their lives, there was no one left to stop her from taking over Metru Nui. Turaga Dume would have no choice but to bow to her will and relinquish the Great City to her. As it was meant to be.

Just as she was about to step foot out of her abode and head for the Coliseum, a tear in the fabric of time and space began to form in front of her. It took her a moment to figure out exactly what it was she was seeing, and another for her to realize that she was not simply hallucinating from the effects of the Nui Stone. As the portal widened, she saw a tall, imposing figure on the other end, wearing a golden mask with curved, pointed edges at its mouth. It was unlike any Kanohi mask that she had seen before.

The figure stepped out and Tuyet raised the Nui Stone at them, only for her to quickly realize that this mask-wearing individual was no Toa. With a single swipe of his hand, the stranger knocked the crystal out of her hand and it went flying across the room, landing and shattering in a far-off corner. Before Tuyet could think of what to do next, the being seized her by the neck and pulled her into the portal with him. She cried out as the whole universe spun around her before finally depositing back onto solid ground, which was cold and damp and nothing at all like her abode in Metru Nui.

As she pulled herself up from the ground, she saw the monstrous being standing behind a cell door. It didn’t take her long to realize that she was the one in the cell and not him and she quickly sprung to her feet, grabbing onto the steel bars of the door.

“Where am I?” she cried. “Who even are you?”

The being said nothing to her, instead simply glowering at her from behind the slits of his golden mask. A few minutes later, a second being joined him, this one clad in black and silver armor. Despite being closer to her in size than the other being, Tuyet doubted this one was a Toa either, as he wore a helmet with a face mask instead of a Kanohi and wore all sorts of spikes and blades on his person. He carried a chain in his hand, which was connected to a fearsome-looking Rahi that was unlike any she had seen before in Metru Nui. She backed away as he opened the door to her cell, only for him to gesture to her.

“Step outside,” he said gruffly.

Tuyet hesitated before complying with the command. The Rahi growled at her as she stepped out of the cell, though the jailer made no attempt to calm it. Instead, he brought out some sort of weapon and pointed it at Tuyet.

“Hold still.”

Before Tuyet could object, she was met with a brief flash of pain, which coursed through her body. When it subsided enough for her to focus, she looked down at herself to see shards of crystal embedded into her body, jutting out from her blue armor. The jailer then roughly pushed her back into the cell before slamming the door shut and locking it.

“There,” the jailer muttered, putting away the device. “It’s done.”

“Good work, Hydraxon,” rumbled the larger being with the gold mask. “Our leader will be pleased.”

“Don’t tell her I said this,” Hydraxon said, “but this has got to be the most convoluted thing we have ever done. Or at least one of them.”

“So long as it accomplishes what it needs to, then it is irrelevant.” With that, the mask-wearing being vanished in a flash of light, a method of travel different from the portals he had been using just moments before.

Tuyet stared in the space where the being had been before shifting her gaze to Hydraxon. However, the jailer and his pet had already started to walk away from her, striding down the rows of inmates that populated the Pit.

*  *  *

“Such a pitiful creature.”

Makuta Tridax stared upon the monstrous creature trapped in the cage before him, thrashing against its confinements. Unlike any Rahi or sapient being that Tridax had seen before, the creature had such a haphazard appearance that made it difficult to make out where parts of its body began and end. Its torso was red, but its long arms and legs were a multitude of colors, ranging from different shades of gray to blue, green, and even orange. The Kanohi Hau that it wore also had a golden finish to it, accompanied by a pair of horns jutting out from its head. Huge scalloped wings hung from its back which the creature had been forced to fold up in order to fit in its newfound prison.

It was such a pathetic abomination that Tridax couldn’t help but take pity on it. Were he a merciful person, he would have gladly put the monstrosity out of its misery. But Tridax was not feeling particularly merciful today.

“He calls himself Gaardus,” said a Matoran standing next to him. The gray and orange-armored Matoran of Iron represented the secretive organization known as the Nynrah Ghosts, whom had a special relationship with the Brotherhood of Makuta ever since they had helped the Makuta rebuild their armor in order to sustain their newly evolved forms. As the Makuta assigned to oversee the region of Nynrah, Tridax naturally had the strongest working relationship with the Ghosts than any of his other brothers.

“’He?’” Tridax questioned, still staring at the creature as it raged within its confinements. “You speak of it as if it was a person.”

“Because he is. Or was, in any case,” said the Nynrah Ghost. “He used to be an ordinary Matoran until some of our own that had been exiled captured him and rebuilt him into… this.”

“How intriguing,” Tridax mused. He had already known beforehand that a group of exiled Nynrah had been responsible for the creation of this creature, but he had not realized this creature had once been a civilized being. “And you know this because…?”

“Because he told us. Or at least, he told us enough for us to infer the rest. The exiles in question were rather… notorious among the Nynrah.”

“I’m sure they were,” Tridax said, already losing interest in the matter. He returned his attention to the creature — “Gaardus,” apparently — and stepped closer to the cage. The mutated Matoran let out a raged cry as he rattled the bars of his prison only to back down as Tridax called upon one of his many powers, that of the Kraata Power of Sleep. Gaardus suddenly became groggy and he slumped down onto his knees, groaning as he struggled to maintain consciousness.

“There’s no need to be so restless,” Tridax said to the creature as he knelt down in front of its cage. “You will be freed from these confinements soon, but only if you agree to do a favor for me.”

Gaardus glared at him from behind the slits of his mask. “What… kind of… favor?” he growled.

“There is a mask known as the Kanohi Olmak,” the Makuta of Nynrah began. “It is one of only two that exist in the universe. I have longed to have it in my possession for quite some time now, though it has consistently eluded me for countless years.”

Gaardus said nothing, continuing to stare at Tridax with half-open eyes.

“However,” the Makuta continued, “my spies have recently located the mask. It is in a guarded facility on an island just north of Nynrah. I understand that you have teleportation powers, is that correct?”

“Yes…?”

“Then my request of you is simple: Teleport into the facility, steal the mask, and deliver it to me. Then, you will be free to resume living your miserable life.”

“Only one problem with that plan,” Gaardus muttered. “I can only teleport to places I have been before. I highly doubt I have ever been inside this guarded facility you want me to break into.”

A grin broke out across Tridax’s mask. “Oh, but you have. Because the facility in question just so happens to be the place that birthed you.”

At this, the creature’s eyes widened. His wings reflexively spread out only to be pushed back by the corners of his cage. A low groan emitted from Gaardus’ throat.

“Fine,” he growled. “I’ll do it. But if you don’t hold up your end of the bargain….”

Tridax chuckled, amused by the mutant Matoran’s theatrics. “Oh, don’t worry, my friend. I am always a man of word.”

*  *  *

“What do you mean its gone?!”

“How else do you want me to rephrase it?” A swarm of crystalline black shards trailed after Trinuma as he stormed down the stairs leading into the lowest chamber of the outpost. “When I say that the Kanohi Olmak is gone, there’s not much room for interpretation, is there?”

Trinuma cursed under his breath as he stepped foot into the chamber, already seeing the empty pedestal where the mask in question had once been. “I knew I should have told Helryx that this would have been a bad idea,” he muttered.

Just a few weeks ago, Helryx had ordered that a number of relics and artifacts in the Order’s possession be relocated from Daxia to an island just north of Nynrah. Most of these artifacts weren’t of much value to the Order to begin with, hence why they had been removed from Daxia in order to make room for items that were of greater importance. However, among these items had been a Kanohi Olmak that had once been in the possession of a Toa of Fire that had helped save the Great Spirit following the Great Disruption. One of only two in existence, the Order had been quick to recover this mask as soon as the Toa had met his untimely demise. In order to facilitate the transfer of items from Daxia to this outpost without exhausting Botar and his teleportation abilities, Trinuma had used the Olmak himself to deliver the artifacts through a portal produced by the mask. Once all was said and done, Trinuma had been told to hold onto the mask for the time being in case they needed to relocate the items again. Trinuma had had his private reservations over this idea, seeing it as a risky move, but had decided to keep them to himself.

Now, staring in the spot where the Olmak should have been, he wished he had said something after all, if only to put that bug in Helryx’s ear.

The swarm of crystalline shards caught up to him and joined together to form a tall black figure. Johmak looked from him to the empty pedestal before narrowing her eyes at Trinuma.

“So,” she said. “Who’s going to be the one to tell Helryx?” 

*  *  *

Toa Takanuva was running. From what, he still was not quite sure. In fact, he was still trying to process the past fifteen minutes of his life.

Just moments ago he had been a Matoran named Takua, embarking on a quest with his friend Jaller to find the Seventh Toa. Shortly upon reaching their destination of Kini-Nui, they had been attacked by the Rahkshi, servants of Makuta, and Takua had watched as one of them robbed Jaller of his life. Left with no other option, he had placed the Mask of Light that had served as their guide over his own mask and was transformed into a Toa himself before defeating the Rahkshi with the help of the Toa Nuva.

He did not have much time to process what had just transpired nor to mourn his fallen friend when a portal suddenly tore open in the sky and a monstrous being clad in crimson and purple descended down on them, a golden mask gleaming from his face. Caught off guard and still recharging from their fight with the Rahkshi, the Toa Nuva quickly fell to the winged monster’s acid-tipped spear. Takanuva had been about to retaliate with his Staff of Light only for the being to hit him with a blast of red energy. Stricken with fear, the Toa of Light turned and ran into the wilderness surrounding Kini-Nui, creating as much distance between him and his foe as he could.

Turn back, a voice rang in his head. Turn back and fight! 

But he did not listen to it. He just kept running. Behind him, he could hear the being laughing.

Another bolt of energy struck him in the back and Takanuva fell face-first onto the ground. A drowsy sensation overwhelmed him and he soon succumbed to long slumber.

Makuta Tridax landed beside the unconscious Takanuva, a broad grin spread across the Kanohi Olmak adorning his face. Without a word, he picked up the Toa of Light and opened another dimensional gate with his mask, stepping through it with his captured quarry in tow.

*  *  *

Collector stood on a mountain of masks, each one the same as the other. He had lost track of the time, no longer sure how many hours, days, or even years had passed since he had awakened in this nightmare of a world.

In one of his four hands he clutched a purple Kanohi Pakari. He hadn’t let go of it for some time now. Something about it just made him want to hold it and not lose it, even though there were at least a dozen more scattered all around him.

As he continued to dig through the sea of Pakaris, making a mental catalog of how often he came across a particular color, he heard someone cry from above. At first he didn’t think much of it, figuring he was just hallucinating. However, as the cry grew louder, he realized that it was actually real and definitely not a hallucination and decided to look up. Plummeting through the sky, falling from some sort of portal, was what appeared to be a spineless Skakdi in black and silver armor, a tattered cape fluttering behind him. As the falling Skakdi drew closer and closer, another portal opened up beneath Collector’s feet and the Dark Hunter fell through it, along with the hundreds of thousands of Kanohi Pakaris that he had been digging through. 

Collector fell for a long time, his vision obfuscated by all the Pakaris that were falling with him. When he finally hit solid ground, the masks started to pile up both on and around him, threatening to crush him beneath their weight. Just as he was about to accept his ironically fitting fate, he felt someone grab his arm and pull him out of the Kanohi avalanche, hoisting him onto a raised platform.

“By the Great Beings,” a familiar voice said. “This has got to be a dream.”

After gathering himself and getting up onto his feet, Collector looked up to see some of his fellow Dark Hunters standing in front of him, all wearing shocked expressions on their faces. Standing closest to him was a Hunter who was in a form that Collector instantly recognized.

“Triglax! You are not going to believe what I just went through!”

“I don’t think I can argue with that,” Triglax murmured, still gawking at the cascade of Kanohi Pakaris that were still falling behind Collector.

Ignoring his comrade’s astonishment, Collector looked around, taking note of the various industrial buildings that surrounded them and the pollution-choked air. “Say, this is Xia, isn’t it? What are you guys doing in Xia?”

“Collector,” Triglax said carefully. “You have been missing for a very, very long time.”

“I figured that. It sure felt like a very long time. So, what are you doing here?”

“We’re in an open rebellion against Makuta,” said another Dark Hunter, a purple and white one known as Vanisher. “He’s overthrown Mata Nui and taken over the universe.”

Collector nodded. “Okay.”

“Okay?” snapped Triglax. “No, it’s not okay! It’s bad, Collector! Very, very bad!”

“Oh, I know.” Collector looked back to the Kanohi Pakaris, which had finally stopped falling now that the portal had closed and had now formed a sea on the outskirts of Xia’s capital city.

“But after what I’ve just been through, an open rebellion against Makuta sounds like a welcome breath of fresh air.”

FIN

Star Wars: Vergence II, Chapter Five

 CHAPTER FIVE

The oceanic world of Mon Cala served as a backdrop for the tense meeting taking place aboard the Dawn of Tranquility. The conference room had a wide window that gave a clear view of the watery planet and the wide, expansive shipyards that surrounded it. The incomplete frames of Star Cruisers could be seen within those shipyards, among other vessels designed by the Mon Calamari. For over forty years, Mon Cala had been a strong ally of the Rebel Alliance and its successor state as the New Republic. A bulk of the Alliance’s fleet was made up of Mon Calamari Star Cruisers and Mon Cala’s own Gial Ackbar had served as the face of that fleet as well as a founding member of the New Republic. Ever since the Alliance’s triumph over the Empire at Endor, Mon Cala had stood as a permanent pillar that held up the New Republic and its current state as the Galactic Alliance.

However, as she stood in the conference room, Lysa Dunter could not help but feel that that pillar was at risk of collapsing.

She stood behind the shoulder of Admiral Cha Niathal, the Mon Calamari commander of the Galactic Alliance Third Fleet. To Niathal’s right sat Vice Admiral Amilyn Holdo while on her left was Admiral Nek Bwua’tu of the First Fleet. Across from them sat His Royal Majesty Les-Char, the 85th King of Mon Cala. On the king’s right was Kaln Gahan, the Mon Calamari’s representative in the Galactic Senate, while his Quarren counterpart Vessara Ri sat to Les-Char’s left. Although Lysa was no expert on reading facial expressions on Mon Calamari or Quarren, the tension in the air was thick enough that she did not feel she needed that particular skill.

“What you are proposing,” Senator Gahan was saying, “is perhaps the most preposterous thing I have ever heard.”

“Preposterous as it may sound, it is nonetheless legitimate,” said Admiral Bwua’tu. “The experimental hyperdrive has had very successful runs, with some of the best Duros hyperdrive experts in the galaxy giving it full marks.”

“That may be so,” said Vessara Ri, her mouth tentacles quivering as she spoke. “But that is not cause enough for us to install such a device in our own vessels. We would have to build an entirely new ship from scratch in order to accommodate this new type of hyperdrive. If we installed it on a preexisting model, even a newer one such as the Dawn of Tranquility, it would surely tear it apart before the ship even made the jump to lightspeed.”

Admiral Niathal shook her head. “We have already tested the hyperdrive on some older Star Cruisers, such as the MC80, and have had positive results. I’m sure the MC85 could easily handle it.”

The king and his representatives continued to look doubtful. “I’m afraid that your good word will not be enough to convince the Advisory Council,” said King Les-Char. “Such major modifications to our vessels would require their unanimous approval.”

“You cannot make the decision yourself?” asked Vice Admiral Holdo.

“Not since my father passed legislation that gave the Council full control over the shipyards. It was a move he found to be necessary in order to better help the Rebel Alliance in its war against the Empire, and it is a law that still holds even if there is no longer a war.”

Bwua’tu folded his hands. “Is that a no, then?”

“I will have to bring the matter to the Council and have them deliberate,” Les-Char replied. “However, if I were you, I would not get your hopes up.”

“I understand.” The Bothan admiral bowed his head. “Thank you for your time, Your Highness.”

After terse farewells were exchanged, the king and his representatives filed out of the conference room to be escorted back to their shuttle in the hangar bay. Lysa was left alone with the admirals, all three of whom stood up and gathered the datapads and notes they had used to present the hyperdrive in question to the king.

“That did not go as expected,” Bwua’tu muttered.

“I warned you that Les-Char was a stubborn man,” Niathal sharply retorted. “Ever since Via Eerin was removed from office, he has become more wary of the Alliance than any of his predecessors have been.”

“I am well aware of how tenuous Eerin’s ousting has made our relationship with Mon Cala,” Bwua’tu said curtly. “Regardless, Mon Cala is still a member of the Alliance and if the current Chief of State decides this new hyperdrive will be installed in all the ships currently in our fleet and all those going forward, then it shall be done.”

Niathal’s bulbous eyes narrowed. “And if Mon Cala refuses to comply?”

“Then it will be left with a choice: Secede or be replaced.”

“Replaced by whom? Kuat may comply, but relations with Corellia have not been the best, so you can forget about the Corellian Engineering Corporation.”

Bwua’tu waved a dismissive hand. “That is a matter that the Chief of State and I will discuss alone. All you have to worry about is deciding where your true loyalties lie.”

Niathal bristled at this. “I beg your pardon?”

“If Mon Cala does choose to leave the Alliance, will you continue to stand with us or will you instead stand with your people?”

The Mon Calamari admiral’s webbed hands rolled up into fists. “The Alliance is my people.”

“Then we have nothing more to discuss.”

With that, Bwua’tu gave a curt nod to the other two admirals before making his own departure from the room. As soon as he was gone, Niathal collapsed into her seat and pounded the table, uttering a curse that was unique to her people’s tongue.

“I hate that blasted fool,” she growled.

“I must say, that came out of nowhere,” said Vice Admiral Holdo. Unlike most admirals that Lysa had met, Holdo forewent traditional uniforms in favor of a maroon dress that made her look more like a politician than a military officer. This, combined with her vibrant magenta hair, made Holdo stand out from her fellow officers. Lysa knew that it irritated Admiral Niathal, who was much more conservative when it came to military dress, but the Mon Calamari had too much of a begrudging respect for Holdo to tell her how to present herself. Although Lysa had never met the older woman prior to her assignment to the Dawn of Tranquility, she had heard stories about Holdo, among them her victory in the Battle of Chyron Belt.

“Ever since he was made Supreme Commander, he has let the power get to his head,” Niathal muttered. “He’ll tell you that he’s been humbled by experience and that he keeps around busts of Admiral Ackbar to remind himself to not let pride get the best of him… but after getting his promotion, he has slipped back into his old arrogant ways.”

“Bothans do tend to be prideful individuals,” Holdo murmured. She glanced between Niathal and Lysa before saying, “If it is all the same to you, I’ll be on the bridge. I’m sure the captain will want to know how the meeting went.”

Niathal waved a hand. “Fine. You’re dismissed.”

The pink-haired admiral departed from the room, which left just Lysa and a distraught Niathal remaining. Lysa found herself shifting uncomfortably, tapping her foot nervously on the deck. She knew it irritated the admiral but it was a nervous tic that she couldn’t really help. She forced herself to stop when Niathal let out a long sigh.

“You’re probably wondering why I brought you to this meeting.”

Lysa bit her lip. She had honestly been wondering just that; as an ensign, she was not only the lowest-ranked officer in the room but one of the lowest-ranked officers on the entire ship. In her two years of service, she had found it difficult to rise through the ranks; no doubt she was being held back because of the man she was related to, a fact that could not be avoided or ignored no matter how many times she changed her name. While it was more or less an open secret to everyone that she was in fact Syal Antilles, daughter of Wedge Antilles, she had done everything she could to separate herself from her father’s legacy and stand on her own as an individual. Even so, she wasn’t sure if that had anything to do with her unexplained presence at this important meeting with the King of Mon Cala.

Not waiting for a response, Niathal continued. “I brought you here because I want to make sure I’m not going crazy.”

Lysa blinked in surprise. That had not been what she was expecting. “What do you mean by that, sir?” she asked, speaking for the first time since the start of the meeting.

“It feels like everything is falling apart at the seams,” Niathal said. “Ever since Via Eerin was removed as Chief of State, the Alliance has been on a steep decline. I would have thought that, after that Darth Taral person was defeated at Mandalore, things would have gone back to normal. But Luewet Wuul is still Chief of State, corruption is still rampant in the Senate, people like Senator Treen are still in charge… it makes me wonder if Taral was ever the true threat in the first place.”

Lysa processed the words she was hearing, unsure on how to feel about them. “Have you thought about…” She paused, being careful in how she phrased this. “Have you considered walking the same path General Hawk and others have walked?”

Niathal eyed her carefully. “You mean desert?” The amphibious admiral snorted. “As I’ve already told Bwua’tu, my loyalty lies with the Alliance. No matter how much I fear for its future, I refuse to abandon my people.”

“But if they stop being your people,” Lysa said, unable to stop herself, “then would you truly be abandoning them?”

She immediately expected Niathal to give her a sharp reprimand for even suggesting such a prospect. Instead, the Mon Calamari woman looked away from her and gazed out the viewport, staring at her oceanic homeworld. Several minutes passed in silence, leaving Lysa to wonder if the admiral was even going to answer her. 

Eventually, Niathal let out a heavy sigh as she rose from her seat, never taking her eyes off the viewport.

“I suggest you join Admiral Holdo on the bridge,” she said quietly. “And don’t speak of our conversation to anyone.”

Lysa snapped off a quick salute. “Yes, sir,” she said before turning sharply on her heel and striding out of the room, leaving Admiral Niathal to herself.

*  *  *

Standing in the hangar bay of a Mon Calamari Star Cruiser brought back many nostalgic memories for General Tycho Celchu. He could not remember the last time he had donned his flight uniform or sat in an X-wing starfighter, though it somehow felt like both a long time ago and not that long at all. Many of the starfighters sitting in the Dawn of Tranquility’s hangar were much the same as the ones from his days as his pilot, albeit more updated for modern times. The T-65 X-wings had been phased out in favor of the faster T-70s; the RZ-1 A-wings he had flown in Green Squadron had been replaced by the RZ-2s; even the B-wings and Y-wings had received upgrades or been outright replaced. As paradoxical as it was to say, everything felt both old and new at the same time. It was as if everything had changed, yet nothing had changed.

As he slowly made his way through the hangar, glancing from ship to ship, he noticed a cluster of pilots in orange jumpsuits gathered near the X-wing fighters. Ranging in both species and age — a few of them couldn’t be older than eighteen — they were glancing furtively in his direction and murmuring hushed words to one another. Smiling to himself, Tycho turned and began to make his way over to them, which immediately caused them to shut up and stand attention, snapping off sharp salutes.

“At ease, pilots,” he said casually. “I’m not here for an inspection or anything. Just stretching my legs.”

“Sir, it’s an honor to meet you, sir,” said a young, bright-eyed man with curly dark hair. “I’ve heard so many stories about you and the other Rogues and—”

“Settle down, Five,” snapped a grizzled Latero. The short, four-armed being stepped up to Tycho and saluted with one of his upper hands while extending one of his lower ones. “Sorry about that, General. Kid tends to talk before he thinks. Captain Tyreez Vitrus, at your service. I’m the commander of Rogue Squadron.”

“Well met, captain,” Tycho said as he shook the Latero’s hand. “And please, just call me Tycho. We’re all Rogues here, aren’t we?”

Tyreez chuckled. “I suppose that much is true. So, what brings you here to Mon Cala?”

“I’m here as part of Admiral Bwua’tu’s detail. He’s currently at the meeting with King Les-Char.”

“I see, I see.” A cloud fell over the Latero’s furry face, though it disappeared before Tycho had a chance to comment on it. “You’re not at the meeting yourself?”

Tycho shook his head. “He had me meet with some of the chiefs at the Shipyards instead, just to see how things were running. To be honest, I’m not really sure why he brought me all the way out here.”

“I’m sure he has his reasons.” Tyreez fell silent for a moment, chewing on his lip. “How are things back on Coruscant? Been a while since any of us have been back there.”

“Pretty much just business as usual,” Tycho replied. “The Senate is still a mess, of course. Then again, when is it isn’t?”

“Right.” Tyreez slowly nodded, his face drooping into a frown. His eyes darted around the hangar, as if he was looking out for someone. Then, lowering his voice to nearly a whisper, the Latero said, “Listen, be careful out there, all right?”

Tycho gave him a puzzled look. “What do you mean?”

“Look, things haven’t been normal around here. Or anywhere, for that matter. Ever since Mandalore, there have been rumors about this Cabal and—”

“I’ve heard it as well,” Tycho interjected curtly. “Trust me, there is nothing to those rumors. It’s all just fear-mongering from the HoloNet.”

Tyreez looked as if he was about to object but seemed to think better of it. Instead, the Latero said, “Look, just be on the lookout, okay? Even if the Cabal stuff is bogus, there might still be people out there who will stupid enough to try something funny… and if you’re not careful, they might even succeed.”

“I can look after myself,” Tycho said, before lightly adding, “I do appreciate your concern, captain.”

“Hey, we Rogues have to look out for one another, yeah?” Tyreez chuckled, though Tycho wondered if it was just for show. “Anyway, I’ve gotta get these kids to the training simulators. You take care, General.”

“You as well, captain.”

After a quick exchange of salutes, Tycho turned and walked away from the Rogues to resume his trip through the hangar bay. This time, however, he no longer thought about the different types of ships that populated the hangar, instead thinking only of Tyreez’s words as they ran through his mind.

Star Wars: Vergence II, Chapter Four

 CHAPTER FOUR

Tuanul village, Jakku

A Klatooinian thug let out a wail as he was sent flying by a sudden burst of air. As he landed face-first into the sand, the Kessurian woman from before charged towards the Jedi responsible for the Force push, knife drawn as she let out a furious yell.

Holding her emerald lightsaber blade aloft to the side, Nira Maren calmly raised her hand again and the Kessurian froze in place. A look of bewilderment crossed the thug’s red face as she struggled to move against the Jedi’s invisible grip, to no avail. As her brown eyes locked with the Jedi’s, Nira spoke to the Kessurian in a slow, almost soothing voice.

“You don’t want to do this. You want to leave and go home.”

The Kessurian’s face twisted in confusion. “I… I don’t want to do this. I want to—”

“Don’t listen to her!” Bar'derro screamed, huddled behind their landspeeder from which he was shooting at Nira’s companions. “She’s trying to do one of those Jedi mind tricks!”

The Kessurian blinked, shaking her head to snap herself out of the Jedi’s trance. Nira let out a sigh before flicking her hand, which sent the woman flying over to join her male counterpart.

“Dank farrik!” Bar'derro swore. He squeezed off a few more shots from his blaster, all which were deflected by Toah Jarsan’s lightsaber as he, Poe, and Snap Wexley advanced on the Balosar’s position. Nearby, Slatero had been taken down by Rey and Finn, while Chek and Jessika dealt with a Rodian bandit. With each thug that was taken down, at least two more hopped onto a swoop bike or landspeeder and drove away, cutting their losses and returning to wherever they had come from. Within minutes, the dozens of bandits that Bar'derro had initially arrived with had been thinned down to a mere handful.

The Balosar rose from his hiding spot once more to shoot at the approaching Jedi only for his blaster to click when he pulled the trigger. Toah then reached out and seized him with the Force before pulling him over the landspeeder he had been hiding behind and onto the ground at the Jedi’s feet. As Bar'derro struggled to get up, he found a blue blade pointed at his neck.

“Give up,” Toah said coolly. “There is no victory for you here.”

Bar'derro scowled at him. “The others will be back with reinforcements. Unkar Plutt is not one who gives up easily.”

“What does this Unkar Plutt want with this village? I don’t see anything of value here.”

“You might not,” the Balosar spat. “But it’s really not any of your business anyway.”

“Are you sure about that?” Toah gestured to Bar'derro’s thugs, who by this point had all been overwhelmed and defeated by his companions. “Because right now, it seems that the only thing you can do for us is talk.”

Bar'derro looked to his fellow bandits, who were now all on the ground and being looked over by the other Jedi and Resistance agents. Realizing that Toah was right, and that there was no escape for him now, the Balosar sighed and hung his head, his antennae drooping low.

“Unkar sent us to find some stupid map. Said it was buried somewhere around here. Didn’t think we’d encounter any resistance, or that we’d even find someone living here.”

“A map, you say.” Toah exchanged glances with the others, in particular looking towards Chek who returned with a neutral expression. “And why does Unkar Plutt want this map?”

“He didn’t say. And we know better than to ask. So long as we get paid, it’s none of our business.”

As Toah continued to hold his blade at Bar'derro, mulling over the Balosar’s words, Rey approached him from behind.

“I know where we can find Unkar Plutt,” she said. “We should go to him, and maybe take these guys with us, so that we can get to the bottom of this.”

Bar'derro snapped his gaze to her. “You,” he murmured. “I remember you. You were one of Unkar’s scavengers. What are you doing with these losers?”

Rey shot him a look. “I don’t see how that’s any of your business.”

“All right,” Toah said, lowering his lightsaber but keeping it activated. “We’ll go find this Unkar Plutt individual and see what he’s all about. Master Maren, you and Chek should stay here to keep looking for the map. Comm us if more of these thugs arrive.”

“Snap and Jessika can stay behind as well,” said Poe. “In case more of these guys do show up.”

As the thugs were pulled to their feet and rounded up into the landspeeder that had brought them to Tuanul, Bar'derro sneered at Toah as he was seated next to the Jedi in the pilot’s seat.

“This will not end well for you,” the Balosar growled. “Unkar Plutt has a lot more of us waiting for you at Niima Outpost.”

Toah smirked at him. “I look forward to meeting them, then.”

Niima Outpost

“These parts are worth… one quarter portion.”

“You’re kidding, right?” The Dressellian scavenger stared at Unkar Plutt with an incredulous expression. “Do you have any idea how hard to come by SOSW power converters are? I heard Durkus got nearly three quarters portion for just one of them!”

“Durkus can be a lying pile of happabore fodder,” Unkar growled. “One quarter portion. That’s my final offer.”

The Dressellian let out a heavy sigh as he slid the parts across the counter before swiping his lackluster payment for them. As the scavenger stormed off, Unkar stepped away from the window of his concession stand and glanced furtively at the chronometer on his desk, his comlink right next to it. He had told Bar'derro to call him as soon as the Balosar and his gang got to Tuanul, one of the many locations where they had already searched for the map. Unkar thought for sure Bar'derro would have gotten there by now, and yet he had still not received a call from the Balosar.

He wasn’t sure how long it would be before he heard from his contact again. He had not been given any sort of deadline to have the map by; Unkar figured that time frame would be whenever his contact’s patience was fully depleted, which could happen at any moment at this point. Time was running short; both for the search for this map and for his own existence.

Just as he was about to close up his concession stand, Unkar Plutt heard the distinct sound of a landspeeder engine running. He peered outside to see a worn-down landspeeder driving up to Niima Outpost, parking just outside the gateway. Six figures disembarked from the vehicle, with two of them being restrained and held back by the four others. Though it was hard to make out any details from this distance, Unkar was able to spot a pair of antennae on the heads of one of the constrained beings, marking them as a Balosar. The other, meanwhile, had a reptilian, almost serpentine look to them, which Unkar recognized as the distinct appearance of a Kalleran.

Unkar’s heart drummed against his chest as realization dawned on him. He slammed the window to his concession stand shut before scrambling for any supplies he could find to pack up. He had a small light freighter waiting for him in the back, covered up by a tarp to hide it from prying eyes. He knew that this day would have come sooner or later; he just didn’t know the circumstances behind it would have been like this.

Before he could even begin to organize the things he was going to need before leaving, he heard a knock at the closed-up window.

“Unkar Plutt,” a familiar voice rang out. “It’s me. Open up.”

The Crolute silently seethed to himself. He knew that voice; it was her. The scavenger girl. One of Jakku’s best scavengers, until she had mysteriously vanished one day last year. Everyone, including him, had thought she had died. Even the best scavenger could always fall victim to the Sinking Fields or have a bad run in with the Teedos. Yet here she was, apparently; alive and well as if she had never left. Unkar tried to refrain himself from responding but his anger got the best of him and he stormed up to the front, tearing the window open.

“You,” he snarled at the dark-haired woman standing outside. “Where in the nine hells have you been?”

“Away,” Rey said simply. “My friends and I have some questions of our own to ask you.”

“I’m not telling you anything,” Unkar snapped. “Especially not after you abandoned me and caused my business to go down!”

Rey frowned and glanced at an older man standing next to her. He stepped over to stand in front of the window and made a gesture with his hand. “You will answer our—”

“No!” Unkar stepped away from the window. “No, no. I won’t be falling for that. You can’t get me that easily, Force-wielding scum!”

The man sighed. “Listen, we know that you’re searching for something that’s hidden here on Jakku. It just so happens that we’re looking for the same thing. Maybe we can help each other out.”

“Help?” Unkar let out a harsh laugh. “Ha ha. ‘Help.’ That’s a funny word. The last time someone ‘helped’ me, I was left several thousand credits in debt.”

“No one’s looking to put you in debt. I simply believe that we would both benefit from working together to find this map.”

“You’re wasting your time,” growled Bar'derro, held back by a dark-skinned man behind Rey and her new friend. “Unkar Plutt doesn’t work for or with anybody. You either work for him or you’re worth nothing.”

However, Unkar Plutt found himself hesitating. As much as he wanted to just tell Rey and her new friends off and slam the window shut in her face, he also couldn’t forget the fact that he was making little to no progress in finding this blasted map. Perhaps, if he allowed these others to work with him, he could use them as scapegoats should they fail to find the map and Unkar’s contact showed up to dispense punishment. It was a risky scheme, one that was not guaranteed to work but may ended up saving his own life. And at this point, he was desperate enough to try anything.

So instead of telling Rey to frak off and close his window, he instead stepped back up to the front and lay his pudgy hands on the counter, speaking two words that put surprised expressions on all of the faces in front of him.

“Let’s talk.”

*  *  *

Far away from both Niima Outpost and the village of Tuanul, the Super Star Destroyer once known as the Ravager laid in ruins among the Graveyard of Giants. Nearly four decades ago, the massive vessel had been the flagship of Fleet Admiral Gallius Rax during the Battle of Jakku, a tumultuous battle that had dealt a major blow to the Empire not long after the loss of its Emperor. To this day, historians and analysts debated whether Rax’s scheme to pit Imperial forces in a suicidal battle against the New Republic had truly been an order given to him by the late Emperor Palpatine as part of a contingency plan or if Rax had simply deceived everyone for some ulterior motive. Whatever the case was, the Imperial forces eventually realized what Rax was trying to accomplish and promptly turned against him before being folded up into Grand Admiral Thrawn’s faction.

The “Graveyard of Giants,” as it was aptly called by the residents of Jakku, served as a grim reminder of the chaos that had unfolded thirty-seven years ago. Imperial and New Republic ships alike littered the desert world, spread across nearly the entire planet. Once mighty warships such as the Ravager and the Concord were now nothing more but a reservoir of parts for the vulturous scavengers that roamed the deserts of Jakku. Given the state of both factions in current times, it was a bitterly fitting analogy.

But none of those things was the primary concern of the sole occupant residing in the picked-apart carcass of the Ravager. Standing in what had once been the Super Star Destroyer’s command bridge, the lone figure stared out the partly shattered viewport. The sun slowly descended towards the horizon, casting a lavender shade in the sky.

Unkar Plutt’s time was running short. If the Crolute did not have the map by midnight, then it would be the end for the junk boss… and Ochi of Bestoon would have to take matters into his own hands. 

He had hoped to keep a low profile for this operation. But, as the saying went, if you wanted something done, you sometimes had to do it yourself.

Pulling over a chair that had been dislodged from the crew pit below, Ochi sat down and began sharpening his knife. A long, bloody night awaited him.