https%3A%2F%2Fi.imgur.com%2Fy9VcQap.jpg [https://i.imgur.com/y9VcQap.jpg]
--
Phase IV
- Sides-
--
‘That power….is mine…'
One against another. Power incarnate. The way it was always meant to be, the way it was inevitably going to be. Tracking her to the far reaches of the Imperial planet, trapping and isolating her in one area; even the environment reacted. Trees bent in an unnatural breeze. The ground shook with realization that even with the occupation of the Sith and the unnatural energy of the Dark Side which swelled and held the planet hostage; Dromand Kaas had never experienced something quite like this.
They stood apart at last. Figuratively and spiritually. The sword and the shield of the faith facing one another. Contestants in a winner keep all match to see who would be the heir to their Mother’s power. It would certainly not be the upstart who laid claim as her new apprentice. The girl had little knowledge of who Mrysti Bell De’nabre Alpha really was. But these two did. One wanting to save the other; the other only wanting to stop the first from getting what she was deserved.
“It’s mine!!!” Sammantha curled her fist and leaned in toward her sister. “All of it!!!” Robbed of the curse, the stain of the Dark Side that flowed within all of them by her own hand. ‘Grace’ moved to rob her of that birthright. Vowrawn was the key. And with his death, the new chosen successor would not be one or the other. Sammantha would deal with Mrysti’s apprentice soon after, then her Mother. But not before the biggest obstacle. Herself. In the form of her twin.
“No” Grace simply said. “No one deserves that power. If you follow Mother…all is lost. For all of us. I…am expendable.” Grace pointed a finger. “YOU are not…I would spare you that pain.”
“You’re right….” Sam finally said, the wicked crooked grin creasing her beautiful features. “…you are expendable.”
As they collided. Both running at full speed toward each other, the galaxy exploded. Life ended. Everything they fought for all of their lives, for nothing.
This was a future that could not be allowed to pass. For the good of both the Light….and the Dark. The heir to the light must not be allowed to follow their Mother down a certain path of destruction.
The Unity, must survive.
--
- Coruscant, De’nabre Apartment, 8000 Republica….
Grace was worried about Samantha, but not because she ran off on her own. The series of visions she was having, the words from her ancestors were heralding a change that Grace did not want to face. Sammantha was rash, erratic and had been since her return and subsequent fulfillment of her destiny in destroying the family curse once and for all. Getting down to her knees, Grace placed her hands together and prayed, looking for guidance from the Unity. But it was silent. After an hour or so, she stood up and eased herself back into bed. Releasing a frustrated sigh; her eyes closing to the darkness she knew would come once she drifted off.
<….there were two now. Mrysti and some other she brought back with her. And together they assaulted and took down the home of the one who punished and tortured them both. Finally coming face to face with the one who was the cause of so much angst. Mrysti backed off, she allowed the other to move forward, to do the deed herself. The pain in the other was much deeper, but Mrysti had an ulterior motive. In killing Vowrawn, the other would be bound to Mrysti forever. A new apprentice, someone to give all of her secrets and power to. For her own daughters were not worthy of it, not any longer.
Life, was about choice. And Grace, as well as Sam had already made theirs. Binding themselves to the Unity and to the Light.
…yet a third approached. Just as Mrysti’s new companion finished the job and killed Darth Vowrawn. The third watched the other two deal with the guards, deal with the defenses of the place and finally kill Darth Vowrawn; a seemingly powerful Dark Lord. They had slain the Dark Lord with ease. Together their hate and rage had no bounds. One fed the other. An endless cycle of power the two could share. Prison was an education. Something Mrysti needed to make the next step over the threshold. And the decision was easy once she saw the potential of the young Lord. All of the hopes and dreams Mrysti had of leaving a legacy; Fulfilled.
The third wanted that power, more, she wanted her Mother. This was not something Mrysti could just give away to whomever she chose. This was family. The legacy of the De’nabre. Good or bad, it was their birthright.
Sammantha stepped from the shadows, looking down at the lifeless corpse of Darth Vowrawn and made her decision. Glaring at Mrysti’s new apprentice, she proclaimed herself heir to the throne and power of her Mother. The Hammer’s Daughter….the battle for their legacy would begin in the shadow of Vowrawn’s death. And it would tear all three of them apart…..>
Grace woke screaming. How, why? So many question’s coursing through her she could not see straight. Flinging the cover off, she jumped from the bed and ran toward the door. Not sure if she should go find Sam, level with Karolin and tell her everything she saw or simply…do nothing. Sam was going to make the decision. Unless, someone else made it for her first.
There was only one variable that controlled all of it.
Vowrawn.
--
‘The End’ – Sublevel Eighteen…one week into the prison riot….
Entering the mess area of yet another cellblock, Mrysti, Cornelia and Canton walked slowly and stealthfully. Both women thankful to have Canton and his many gadgets that existed in his armor. Though both Cornelia and Mrysti could use the Force to see in low light, it took concentration. And their power was already spread in sensing threats everywhere. Without rest, it was waning. All Canton had to do was find a power cell and change it in his armor’s systems.
Canton jerked the pistol in his hand sideways, pointing under a table. Both women’s eyes going directly toward the table and a slight movement underneath. Mrysti leapt forward, grabbing the table and flipping it out of the way. Cowered under it a very badly beaten and abused guard sat huddled. Arms folded around his legs. Cornelia stepped forward activating her saber. Ready to dispatch the guard instantly. But Mrysti held her back, Raising a hand for Cornelia to stay her blade.
Reaching down, Mrysti grabbed the guard and lifted him into the air, holding him by his shirt collar as she peered into his face. The man was terrified. And it was more than terror of what was going on or the inmates who were now carving out enclaves of power all around the prison. It was something else. Mrysti recognized it. The man had seen true power. Confronted by the inevitability and hopelessness that nothing could stop it.
Turning the man left then right, she inspected him. Mrysti sat the man down at another table moving her arm over the surface to clear it of debris. She sat on the edge and leaned toward the frightened guard. “Do you know who I am?” Mrysti asked bluntly. The man shook his head, but did not look up. Canton moved to the side, watching the exits. His head slowly scanning the area. Cornelia ever present at Mrysti’s shoulder leaned down next to her Master looking at the guard disdainfully. Mrysti narrowed her eyes continuing her inspection. So mortified was the guard, he could not speak. After Mrysti asked the question he continued to nod long after the answer was given.
“Kill this ‘thing’ and be done with it.” Cornelia spat, raising her saber slightly. Mrysti shook her head, looking back toward Cornelia.
“Look. Do you not see?”
“See? All I see is one of our oppressors. A guard who has outlived his usefulness even to his own life. Kill it, we don’t have time to—” Mrysti raised a hand for silence and Cornelia backed up a step. “—yes, Master.”
“You look, but you do not see, Cornelia.” Mrysti grabbed the guards head forcefully. Turning his head right then left slowly. The sides of the man’s once dark hair were bleached white. Mrysti narrowed her eyes again before letting him go, to look back at her apprentice. “He is frightened. But not of us or even what’s going on…something worse has stricken him with total and complete fear. Fear enough that even the respite of death will not cure it.”
Mrysti stood up and moved away, content to let the guard be. They moved toward the exit and the maintenance area once again. The long way around toward the administrative level. Every access blocked, all three of them were on the far side of the prison. The only way around were the unoccupied areas. Something worse was out there, something that struck such fear into the guard that he was unable to function. They reached the exit and the guard screamed out toward them.
“HE….WILL TAKE YOU. HE…CONSUMES ALL. RUN…RUN!!!!”
Cornelia glanced at Mrysti before she acted. The Mirialan giving a subtle nod. Stepping back in the room, Cornelia hurled her lightsaber back toward the voice.
“GAAGHHHH!!!”
The saber returned to her hand and immediately shut down. The three moving into the darkness and uncertainly. But Mrysti was moving toward something else. Something she hadn’t felt in a very long time.
Fear.
--
- ‘The End’….Administrative Level….
Bodies of the guards who tried to hold the level lay scattered between the two factions. Blaster bolts and explosions arching back and forth in front of the two makeshift barricades. One faction, a large swoop gang that were housed together in one cell block, desperately trying to break through in order to get to the comm system and perhaps get more hostages. The fighting broke for a moment. One of the swoop gang standing up behind his barricade to look out toward the other. Eyes peered over the top as the brave swoop member stood out in the ‘no-man’s land’. The area of the hall where all of the bodies of both factions and the guards lay scattered.
Cradled in his arms, one of the guards. A knife to the man’s throat the swoop member used him as a shield. “…we can come ta sum agreement ‘ere!!!” The gang member yelled. “…ya’ll wan’ off. WE wan’ off. But we got tha’ leverage.” The gang member looked at the frightened guard before looking back toward the barricade. “The Empire is gonna wan’ their people back. Sure, we can kill ‘em all. But wha’ does tha’ git us?!?! NUTHIN’!!! Less team up…give us tha’ comm, we give ya’ll tha hostages. Everybody wins!!!”
The swoopers knew the other gang. A dusk bat gang out of the Hutt controlled parts of space. They had the comm system or at least controlled the area it was located in. What the swoop gang didn’t know was the other gang had no access to the room where the comm was located. The Warden and his administrators locking the blast door before they fled. Or perhaps they were in there? There was no way to tell. But the Dusk Bats were not going to give away that vital piece of information. One of them looking up over the barricade.
“You got shit!!! We got prisoners ova’ ‘ere already!!! And tha’ Empire is already comin’!!” It was a lie. The swoop gang all looked at one another. The one holding the prisoner narrowed his eyes.
“If tha’s true, then why ain’t we heard nuthin’?!?!” This time the Dusk Bats looked at one another. One of them coming up over the barricade to shoot the guard the other gang member held as well as the swoop member. The fighting started in earnest again. Bolts lighting up the hallway as both factions began killing one another once again.
--
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‘Pain’
‘Strife’
‘Battle’
‘Chaos’
The walls buckled inward as the presence approached.
The swoop turned, too late. One of them recognizing the presence as his eyes got wide.
“KILL—KILL HER!!!”
“The Colone—”
Moving its arms out, the saber clenched tightly in one hand the presence moved left then right. Pulling the hapless gang members into one another. A storm of arms, bodies and legs as all of the gang members collided. She walked slowly. Methodically. Right into the middle of the storm. The ever present and glowing purplish-pink blade wading into the thrall of men and barricade.
The other side stopped firing once they realized they were no longer being fired upon. But the screams. They weren’t whoops and hollers of joy or victory. They were screams of terror. The Dusk Bats could see the wavering light on the other side. Purplish hue, shadows of flying men and severed limbs.
An explosion outward of the barricade filled the hallway with dust and debris. Pieces of the furniture used to build the barricade lay scattered among the dead in the ‘no-man’s land’. All was silent on the other side. One figure moving through the smoke and carnage. Colonel Rickter stepped through. Parting the smoke and fog. Her eyes glowing a stellar emerald green; looking onward. The ever present glow of the brilliantly purple saber held tightly in her grip. She stared straight ahead, almost through the other men and the other barricade across the expanse of hallway.
The Dusk Bats all looked at one another.
“FIRE…FIRE!!!”
The hallway lit once again with an incoming barrage of blaster bolts. This time all from one side. Rickter started to move. Not at a run or even at a quickened pace. Methodically moving in between the bolts sailing toward her, the arm holding the saber a blur of movement. Deflecting bolt and explosion alike. Catching one homemade bottle of explosive in the air, she sent it hurling back toward the barricade in the Force.
The front of the barricade exploded. Blinding those who were trying to kill their jailer. When the Dusk Bats recovered and rushed back toward the barricade….she was there.
‘NO’ The voice from Rickter was ominous and from beyond. ‘I Have no need of you….any of you. Weak. Pathetic. Wastes of the lives you’ve been granted.’
Rickter stepped down off the top. The Dusk Bats stepping back toward the rear entrance, some of them stumbling and tripping over themselves to get away. Rickter raised a hand, slowly lowering it toward the bulkhead at the end of the hallway. A blast door lowering slowly, cutting off their escape.
Stalking forward, Rickter raised the blade. The purple, the screams. All of it part of the grand plan. Fuel for a new regime.
Sion would not be denied.
--
Finding another way around was only part of the problem. Gangs were controlling the upper levels, too many for even Mrysti to handle. Having found a tactical storage area, Mrysti changed her clothing to something more applicable to the type of activity she was going to get into. Holding the orange jumpsuit in her hands a moment, she frowned at it before dropping the clothing at her feet. A symbol of the coming change. As one thing bled away another began. The change of clothing only part of what was to come.
They stopped in the corridor. Mrysti looking upward. Above them, another passage that led toward the admin level. But something else. Foreboding. Mrysti hadn’t shared with either Cornelia or Canton that she was tracking the fear that pulled her. The passage above, also the route that whomever struck fear in the guard they encountered and now her; had also taken. She looked at Corenlia to speak. It was something her new apprentice was not going to like.
“You both need to head back the other way.”
Cornelia gave her Master a strange look, which twisted into sudden anger. Cornelia shook her head. “No…No, Master. We stay together, we stand a better chance if we—”
“I am not prepared to have my apprentice question my every move. I have given you a directive. You will follow it.” As if reading Cornelia’s thoughts and next question, Mrysti continued. “It’s not important that you understand. Only that you obey.”
Seeing the look on Mrysti’s face, Canton grabbed Cornelia’s arm. “Come on…if she wants to go on her own. We let her…c’mon!!”
Cornelia hesitated. Giving Mrysti an angry glare. Before relenting to the pull of the Mandalorian, Cornelia snatched her arm out of his hand to stand before her Master.
“I will not leave without you Master.” Cornelia didn’t add that she expected Mrysti to do the same. Cornelia turned and walked back the way all of them came leaving Mrysti alone in the darkened passage.
Looking up, Mrysti followed the essence above her. Tracking it as it passed by; long before any of them thought to look for it and made its way toward the admin level. She looked back the way it came, glancing behind herself. A shaft, long and underground. Deeper than any on the asteroids surface. Reaching out, Mrysti lifted her hand in concentration; looking past the rock and structure. Diving deep underground to feel what the essence was. And why, being so close to the moment it passed over them, it felt so familiar.
“Rickter…” Mrysti’s whispered to herself.
With no idea what the Colonel had gotten herself into. Sure that the essence was partly Colonel Rickter. But also something else, something much more evil and powerful. Mrysti jumped up into the opening and climbed up.
That was part of the conundrum. Mrysti could not tell Cornelia why she didn’t want her or Canton to follow. It was something she was sure neither her new apprentice or the Mandalorian could face. The evil a very powerful presence. After feeling Rickter as a part of it, the questions began. When they met the first time, Mrysti felt no power within the Colonel. And she looked. If for no other reason than to see if the Colonel was not some assassin sent to betray her. A powerful force user who may have hidden their true nature just to get close. It was possible, but at the time; improbable.
Lifting both hands, Mrysti grabbed the structure above her in the Force. And with a jerk of pressure and strength she ripped the ceiling down around her. Jumping up into the shaft which passed above her and the direction the other presence moved. Fear led her. In a strange way, exciting her. Mrysti felt the butterflies start to eat away the lining of her stomach. Anticipation of actually seeing and being in the presence of one nearly as powerful as she.
Down the other way and then forward, Mrysti started off. Slowly making her way in the darkness toward her new fear.
--
‘The End’, Sector Space…Imperial Dreadnaught ‘Endeavor’
<”….this is Captain Tanis of the Imperial Dreadnaught ‘Endeavor’…initiating a general emergency in sector G-7…I say again, sector G-7 is compromised….”>
It was the seventh such message Captain Tanis sent toward the Imperial Core Sector, with no response. No doubt they had received the message by now. Either choosing not to respond or being unable to respond. As a careerist, Tanis was not going to take matters into his own hands. Trying to reach Colonel Rickter had also been unsuccessful. Until he received word from one or the other, he was holding his position.
“Captain Tanis…” The Captain looked left toward his communication officer and grimaced. “…we’ve lost all contact with the prison. Our last communication was with the Warden at 2215 GST that line has been severed…”
Tightening his hands behind his back, the Captain looked out of the forward viewport toward the prison asteroid. Lights were flickering in the distance as power fluctuated in various parts of the asteroid base.
“Move the ship toward the designated grid the Warden sent, but keep well enough distance that should anything happen to the asteroid—”
“—I’m sorry sir, we are getting another transmission….”
<”…minions of the Sith…this is Darth Sion. You are commanded and compelled by your service to the Sith to bring a transport to my location and extract me from this base. Failure to do so will result in your forfeiture of life.”>
Tanis looked at the communications officer again, his face twisting in confusion and surprise. “That sounded like—is that a recording?”
“No Sir, live transmission.”
“Raise the transmission again, locate the source…”
“It’s gone, sir…they left a locator beacon but they are no longer transmitting.”
Tanis shook his head. “I would ask you to conduct a voice print analysis, but I already know what it will say. That sounded like the High Colonel.”
“Yes, sir….it did.”
--
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-- Dromand Kaas, Darth Vowrawn’s Private Estate….
The Sith Lord woke in a cold sweat, his hand over his heart after having a nightmare that physically made him sick. Choking down the need to retch, Vowrawn swung his feet over the side and placed his head in his hands, looking down. Light, eating the darkness. His darkness. But it wasn’t a normal light. One that had a veneer, a shell of the dark power around it. Shielding it. Light and dark didn’t work in combination, they opposed one another. Yet, this one in his nightmare had learned to pass through both and use them in tandem, with ease. He only felt the sensation near one other Dark Lord. And she was well away from him at the moment.
"Lights..." Vowrawn commanded the automated systems of his room. When they didn't respond immediately, he looked up. His face initially twisting in anger. Then he felt the sensation from his nightmare anew, standing a few meters away.
The red saber lit with a snap-hiss of ejecting plasma. One side and then the other. Illuminating the room on the far side. He leapt from the bed, hand outstretched to reach for his own saber in the Force. Not entirely sure he was not still dreaming. The feeling of dread from his nightmare; the one who haunted it and made him sick. That feeling permeated the far side of the room.
Vowrawn’s hilt was whisked away like a stiff breeze. Landing on the far side in the hand of the one who illuminated his room with her own saber. A dual-saber. The tool of an assassin. Vowrawn slowly rose from the bed. He stood upright, chin slightly raised. His hand moving slowly toward the alarm panel nestled in the bedside table. The presence on the far side laughed. Her voice light, deliciously beautiful with a veneer of darkness shelled around it. Vowrawn suddenly thought, SHE was there. That somehow Mrysti had come back from the far reaches of the galaxy. And the visions he’d been having of his own death by her hand were about to come to pass. No one else had that presence.
“We both know she is going to return, ‘My Lord’…” The beautiful demur voice said. Unmoving. Hand held out still holding the hilt of his saber, her own saber angled out behind her and the red tint of death emanating from it. “…and when she does, YOU will not survive. I…am your only salvation.”
“I don’t know HOW you managed to breech my security. But you should know, the guards are already on the way. I have bio-monitors installed in my epidermis. Any change in my physical status, alerts the guards.”
The beautiful voice laughed again, taking a step forward, dropping the arm which held the unlit saber hilt. Yet, she still held it. “You’re stalling…” The voice intoned melodically. “…predictable as all Sith. When faced with sheer power, you all stall…” Vowrawn narrowed his eyes, peering into the dark toward the figure.
“Who are you?”
“You know…” The voice chimed melodically again, almost singing the words and slightly annoyed that he hadn’t figured it out. “…I am your savior, Darth Vowrawn. Because when my Mother returns, I will be the only thing that stands between you and a sure and certain death….” Grace stepped forward, a wicked smiled parted the beautiful features of her face.
“Jedi…” Vowrawn spoke disgustingly. Placing his hands on his hips; he scowled.
“You should know better, ‘My Lord’….” Grace intoned musically again. Her face unchanged as she looked the robed man up and down. “You were there on Mirial…surely you felt it. A planet comprised entirely of true believers and you had no sense of it.” Grace made a ‘tsk, tsk’ sound and moved slowly, one leg in front of the other as she swayed; walking to the other side of the room.
“All of you walk a dangerous line. Not just Mirialans, but you…YOU ‘De’nabre’.” Vowrawn sneered, “I am not a complete idiot! I, of course, study the history of those I mean to rule. The Mirialans are no exception. The De’nabre are a blight on their history. An anomalous essence of their ‘Unity’ and the Force itself. Explains a great DEAL about your….’Mother’.” He spoke the last word as if it were something best not said. His eyes following the rather tall Mirialan.
Grace was built like her Mother. Not quite as bulky or wide, but the height was there. The low light of her dark red saber accenting the more curvaceous nature of Grace De'nabre. Same ruby red hair, before Mrysti’s color was taken from her. Grace had a ‘grace’ to her movements. Light, almost floating as she moved from one part of the room to the other. But unlike the last time Vowrawn saw her, shortly after her release from captivity; Grace was not wearing the rags of a Jedi. She was decked out in black leatheris. It creaked as she moved, the buckles set against the leatheris shined in spots as it caught the light of her crimson saber blades. One could argue she wore it to blend with the denizens who ruled Dromand Kaas. For Grace, it was a deliberate choice. She was in it till the end. Fully committed and that meant every part of herself.
Turning her head sharply, she let her red eyes set into him relaxing the corners as she smiled silkily. “Your words do not match your thoughts, Vowarwn. You’re intrigued. Otherwise, you WOULD have summoned those guards and done everything in your power to destroy me. Even at the cost of theirs…and your own life. You’re a powerful Dark Lord, are you not? Kill me…if I am the blight you say I am.” Grace smiled, pausing as she stared at him in the darkness. Only her eyes lighting up at the possibility. All of it could end right there, at that moment. But she knew 'The Unity' was not going to make it that easy. Destiny told her so. "You are not as stupid as I thought....'My Lord'. Your decision to send my Mother away instead of just killing her when you had the chance gave me pause. Made me question your level of intelligence. Or perhaps you just enjoy living on the edge." Grace said the last words with a bit venom. Pausing again as Vowrawn folded his arms over his chest. She smiled and moved toward the bureau. "Or perhaps you realize that despite all of your power, you cannot over take me..." Turning her head slowly back toward him, she smiled seductively. "Unless...I allow you too..."
Narrowing his eyes, Vowrawn relaxed physically. He was intrigued, enamored in a way. Much like he once was with Mrysti. Though she never once gave herself over to thoughts like those which came from Vowrawn. He sneered again, scoffing toward the Jedi. Though not as vile as he was previously. “You’ve made a very dangerous decision coming here. And you realize there is no way I can just let you leave.” Vowrawn scoffed again, “Jedi…I take that back. NOT a Jedi. De’nabre. Should be a new term for your kind. Moving in and out of the light. I told your Mother she had to choose a side. She choose to betray me and the Empire.” Grace laughed lightly again, picking up something from his personal bureau to look at before setting it back down gently. Her lightsaber still hummed a reminder lighting up her side of the room.
“You know that’s not true. My Mother IS Darkness…she was trained into it. It’s a part of her now. Who she is.” Grace stopped by the door, raising her hand to touch the activation pad. Turning her head to look at Vowrawn, the vicious smile having never left. “This…is not about her. This….is about you and your need to exact some measure of vengeance against her.” Grace made a ‘tsk, tsk’ sound again. “An Emperor should be above that, don’t you think?” Grace's eyes got wide at the revelation, the smile infectious. "Those you mean to rule should fear not only the man, but his retribution. Swift and deliberate. Emperors don't play silly games, Vowrawn. And....neither do I."
“I am not Emperor yet.” Vowrawn paused as he watched her. “What do you want?”
“What I want…” Grace lost the smile and let out a pent-up sigh. “…is to save my family. Not my Mother, she’s already committed to her course. But my sister, who will follow her blindly once she returns.” Grace had no reason to lie. Moving the arm upward, she tossed the saber hilt toward Vowrawn. “I offer myself to you, Darth Vowrawn. In hopes that in doing so, it will give my Mother pause in killing you. Pause enough that my sister rethinks this course. YOUR DEATH, is the catalyst that drives the wedge between my sister and I. And she will have to make a choice. I’ve already decided. My life…for hers.”
“Give yourself?” Vowrawn questioned humorously. He looked at the hilt in his hand, considering activation. Grace’s voice grew dark.
“To serve you…until my death…” Grace paused, “…or yours.” Smiling viciously, her eyes went to the saber. “…if you do that. You die now. This instant. And none of this matters. The wedge will still come between us all. My sister will still follow my Mother. But…you are the chaotic anomaly in all of it. I have seen it. Through you, I can take my sister’s place. Give her a chance at a life she should have had, that the Dark Side and the Force robbed her of.”
“I thought you, 'Mirialans' believed in destiny.” Vowrawn’s mind went back to Mirial, the day he laid eyes on the younger twin of the woman he now stood across the room from. “Wasn’t that her destiny? Believing she was robbed of her choices is not in keeping with your ‘Unity’.”
“We share our karma…” Grace spoke short and turned back to the door. She already knew what he was going to decide. He just needed to arrive at the decision on his own. “I am not a servant, Darth Vowrawn. Nor, am I an apprentice. I am beyond the Jedi or the Sith. I am…how did you put it? An anomaly. A De’nabre. Yes, perhaps we should use our name as a way to define ourselves.” Grace smiled again, less viciously considering her use of her own title to define herself. “The Unity and I are one…the Force and my ancestors have guided me to this point. Choose or don’t choose, it’s your decision. But know this…'Sammantha'...is coming. And your death is certain either way. By my Mother’s hand or your own. I have seen it. I know it to be true. I am…your only chance for survival.” The door opened and Grace stepped out, turning to look back at him. “The throne is your goal. You’ve already placed enough obstacles in your way by choosing the course you have.” Vowrawn gave a questioning look at the mention of obstacles. But she didn't elaborate. A question for later perhaps.
"You mean to just walk out of here?"
Grace paused and looked out toward the exit before turning back. “Yes." Grace stated plainly. Narrowing her eyes, she ran a hand softly up the sliding door frame and leaned in. "You've already made your decision, 'My Lord'. And so have all of the other pieces to this tragic situation. If you play your part well, perhaps you survive. Perhaps you don't. YOU are not my objective here, simply a means to an end. Honestly, I could care less if you live or die. For the moment, I need you. Once you are gone, my Mother will rededicate herself to the cause. Conquest of the galaxy, re-educating those who do not feel as she does.” Grace wiped a hand away as if to brush what she said aside. “It doesn’t matter. In my vision, you will be gone. Her vengeance exacted, she will once again pick up the Hammer and become a part of the struggle. YOU need to ask yourself; how do you play in this larger role? It’s time to think less about the throne….and more about your life. I await you in Kaas City…you will know where to find me.”
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--
Dromand Kaas, Kaas City….Low Income Derelicts….
<”In position, My Lord…”>
Vowrawn stood on the outside looking up at the building. The more the thought about her after the visit, the angrier he got. How dare ‘she’ invade his home and threaten him. He didn’t need her ‘support’ or her counsel. And his ‘death’. Vowrawn laughed at the notion. Mrysti was thousands of lightyears away. Likely dead by the orders he given the Warden. Vowrawn looked aside. Something to remember for later. It had been sometime since he heard from the Warden. The need to get verification that all was well out in the far reaches of space paramount now that ‘Grace’ had shown up. In the Force he could feel that something was not quite right with all of it. Part of that would be remedied in the next few minutes.
Looking up at the derelict, Vowrawn smiled. Raising the comm device to his crooked lips. “Execute, Commander. Kill anything inside the apartment with extreme prejudice and bring her—I mean, bring ME whatever remains you find. I want proof that this ‘traitor’ has been dealt with.”
It seemed overkill on a few different levels that a high-ranking member of the Dark Council would be present for something as simple as a traitor extraction and execution. But it was not the troopers or the Commander’s place to question. “It will be done, My Lord…” The Commander replied giving a sharp nod to the other troopers stacked against the wall with him. The last man in the line moving around the others to place a charge on the door.
The door shattered in a shower of sparks and rubble. All of the troopers entering immediately after. Firing as they entered. All of the Imperial Troopers covering all areas of the room as they spread to the corners. Nothing could have survived. They had all access and zones within the room covered.
Vowrawn watched from outside. Heard the explosion and watched as the dust from the explosion made a slight puff from the outside of the building. Right at the level the room was located on. He watched and waited. Not hearing anything from the troopers initially, he started to get impatient. Raising the comm device to speak and getting the message before he said anything.
<”There’s no one here, My Lord…the apartment is empty. There were signs of someone being present, but comm scan’s residual trace places the occupant gone for more than twenty-four hours.”>
His fist tightened around the handheld comm unit. “She’s there, Commander. Somewhere. I want every apartment searched, every occupant removed and questioned. This is no ‘ordinary’ traitor, Commander” Vowrawn stopped short of using the word 'Jedi'. A part of him still had some belief that what Grace said could possibly be true.
Moving off, Vowrawn entered his speeder. Content that his orders would be followed. He was going to find Grace and when he did, bleed the truth from her.
--
Kaas City, Emperor’s Memorial Marshalling Field….
They all stood side by side, those who could attend. The members of the Dark Council watching as the troops destined for planets across the galaxy would take the fight and the will of the Sith Empire across the stars. Vowrawn locked his hands behind his back. His normal light and jovial demeanor gone, his mind still on the past days events and the Jedi he failed to find earlier.
Looking over slightly, Darth Malgus looked down on the smaller Dark Lord. Turning his head back to the front in order to appreciate the power being displayed by the Empire’s finest. He didn’t look over at Vowrawn again, instead speaking to the smaller Lord without looking at him.
“You seem…’distracted’, Vowrawn.”
“It’s nothing. A minor issue that will soon be—”
Malgus scoffed slightly. It almost sounded like a laugh. “Your continued distractions cost valuable resources.” Malgus turned his head slightly. Without revealing what he knew, Malgus narrowed his eyes. The last of the troops passed the Dark Lords standing on the reviewing stand and were boarding transports, bound for whatever planet the Empire saw fit to deposit them on.
“…you brought this on yourself, Vowrawn. Remember that.”
After speaking Malgus stepped off. Going the opposite direction of the other Dark Lords. Vowrawn turned, thought to call out to Malgus. Not only to question the larger Dark Lord, but to also chide him. Vowrawn loved getting under Malgus’ skin especially since the larger Sith’s return from the dead. As Vowrawn moved, his advisers intercepted him. Vowrawn stopped in his tracks to look at all of them annoyingly. They bowed reverently and parted the way. Vowrawn lost the desire to pursue Malgus. Stopping to look at each one of his minions in turn.
“Did you send the communique?” Vowrawn asked one of them as he picked up the step again. Heading to the far side of the field and his waiting conveyance. The advisers all stopped, exchanging glances. Once Vowrawn realized he was walking alone, he turned giving them all an annoyed glance. “What?!?!”
“My Lord…the…” They all looked at each other again. Not one of the advisers wanting to deliver the news. Another picked up the message where the first left off.
“…communication to 'The End' has been severed. We…are receiving a message from the fleet in that sector. It appears the prison…” The next adviser stopped. Turning toward another of his compatriots, who took up the message.
“…My Lord, the prison has been overrun. A riot is in progress. The fleet Captain is requesting assistance and instructions.”
A numbness fell over Vowrawn. He was still looking at his advisers, but all expression drained from his face. His gaze past them, through them, as he looked off. Numbness gave way to fear. Fear he never experienced before. All of the nightmares, all of the dreams and thoughts that plagued him suddenly came back. At the last, the words Grace spoke a few nights prior.
Stumbling, he turned away. Heading for his speeder.
“My Lord…” the last of his advisers called to him. “…your orders? Should we—”
The last of the question drown out as Vowrawn continued to walk. His mind no longer his own, his thoughts rushing three and four at a time. Opening the door to his speeder, he didn’t even think to get annoyed at not having the door opened for him or that his driver was not waiting. Merely flopping in the backseat as the speeder launched into the air. Vowrawn didn’t even think to give a direction. His mind suddenly returning, he leaned forward and absently gave instructions.
“My estate…” he spoke softly. “…and comm silence, I do not wish to be disturbed.”
“…as you wish, ‘My Lord’…” The partition between the driver’s cabin and the passenger lowered. Vowrawn looked up suddenly at the soft sultry voice that came from the front of the speeder. Definitely not his driver. He looked up into the rear reflector. Red irises staring at him as Grace smiled.
“I told you…I am your only salvation….”
--
- ‘The End’….
They split up, dividing their forces to try and get to the admin level from various points of the asteroid. Cornelia and Canton taking the more direct route. They were both armed, much better than Mrysti was. Or at least they thought so.
Criss-crossing back through an area they previously passed. The area was relatively silent. There were always residual noises in prison. Everything echoed. Those noises intensified given the nature of the place under siege. Lights flickered on and off or were out completely. Some areas graced with emergency lighting gave a strange red or purple hue to the surrounding. Environmental systems were fading. Going back the way they came, Canton could see it all in his systems; still linked into the AI’s sensor nodes. The cellblock they passed prior, skipping most of it to try to get to the admin level, both Canton, Cornelia and Mrysti bypassed most of the doors. Canton stopped Cornelia shaking his head. Bulkhead doors previously opened were closed. He set a hand against the bulkhead. Cold. Environment on the other side was gone. A vacuum. Both turned to cut across the quad. Canton out front he stopped her again, raising his blaster. Detecting the guards before they detected him. The AI’s sensor nodes feeding him the prison’s tracking information.
No one knew Canton better than Cornelia. When he raised his weapon, she immediately activated her lightsaber. Out front, he raised a hand to her over one shoulder to stay back. Slinging the arm back forward he launched it into the darkness. A lanyard tipped with a sharp spike launched out of the wrist module. Traveling at high speed through the darkness. Cornelia heard it hit something, soft and crunchy. Canton’s armored system whined loudly, jerking the arm back through the darkness. Like a fisherman catching a prize; the guard impaled on the spike came hurling back toward them.
Cornelia rolled forward, swinging her saber along the horizon of his ‘catch’. Cleaving the guard in two. The crowd erupted. Not sure and having no idea what was attacking them, the guards; who were setting up a defense in the quad fired out in all directions. The floodlights came on. Canton activated the spotlight in his helmet; blinding the guards who tried to angle their blaster bolts back the direction of the light. Canton cut it off. The light, more for Cornelia, but doing the job of blinding the guards just long enough. The two moved into the defense, right among the guards. In the few seconds it took to cut the light on and then off, it was over. The guards who survived were running out of the quad. Unfortunately, the direction that Canton and Cornelia needed to go.
<“We’re gonna see them again…”> Canton spoke through the helmet standing up once he retracted the lanyard back into his wrist unit. Cornelia deactivated her saber and stood up. Silence hit them. Only the background sounds of the prison and the ominous darkness hitting them again. She turned, looking at Canton through the darkness. Dots of light peeked out from Canton’s armor, power cells and sensors giving off a residual light.
Moving up close, she ran a hand over his helmet and pulled herself in. He turned, his helmeted face looking down at her. The Sith smiled, looking down sadly before looking back into his visor. “Canton…” She started softly. It was the first time the two of them were alone. The chance for Cornelia to say something that was on the tip of her tongue since their impromptu visit with one another in solitary. “…if we get out of here…” Canton shook his head.
<“There is no ‘if’ Corny…we are.”> Canton looked back the direction the surviving guards ran. Always on guard, always watching.
“That’s not what I mean.” Cornelia spoke again. She waited until he looked at her. Her face sad, but with a hint of hopefulness. “I was never going to leave you. Not ever. I would have burned this place down to get to you.”
Canton smiled inside the helmet. Even if Cornelia couldn’t see, she could hear it. <“I know baby…”> he finally replied. <“…I know ya would’a.”> He paused and looked back the direction they needed to go. <“…I just ain’t so sure that your new ‘Master’ feels the same way.”>
--
https%3A%2F%2Fi.imgur.com%2Fm6MOC6o.jpg [https://i.imgur.com/m6MOC6o.jpg]
Tracking the presence, Mrysti felt it had passed through the sector ahead. Passed through. Appropriate. The presence passed through the area undetected. More, uninterested in what lie before her. There was a directness of intent within the presence. Colonel Rickter was following the path she knew, but as a puppet to whatever the presence was. Perhaps it controlled her, made her move using her knowledge of the prison and its systems to skip through areas it found unnecessary. The door ahead, an anomaly. A prison section door in the middle of the maintenance area. Something hidden and out of the way. The asteroid seemed to hide many secrets. Almost all of them deadly in some way.
Even without her lightsaber, Mrysti was still a formidable force. Vaulting the table as the door to the next section opened, Mrysti glanced at the writing on the wall and found the section labeled ‘Mental confinement’. Tilting her head in confusion. Sublevels were where most of the maintenance works of the prison were kept. To have a cell section in the middle spoke to vulnerability. Mrysti saw them turn and charge instantly even before the door closed behind her. Charging as well, she reached a table at the edge of the room. Vaulting over once again. Once she got over the table she understood why the inmates were attacking; launching a hand out unleashing a deadly barrage of Force Lightning into the charging inmates.
Their eyes glowed with a spectral light in the dimly lit environment of the prison section. The presence had indeed been through there and had affected the prisoners. Mrysti could feel it in the Force as they attacked. Their minds, already compromised by whatever mental ailment affected them; the presence bent their will. They attacked, not of their own will. But someone or ‘something’ else’s.
They came from everywhere. No guards, the section had been sealed off since all of it began. The inmates attacking the first thing that came through the door. Unfortunately for the crazed occupants of the mental ward that first individual was Mrysti.
Even fried and charged with lightning from her fingertips, they slowed, but kept advancing. One of the inmates grabbing her arm once she landed on the other side. Mrysti slung the inmate off like a sand flea. The female mental patient flying with sudden speed away from her and impacting the wall to her side with a resounding crash of splitting wall and cracking tile. Two others writhed on the ground in pain from the lightning and jumped up as Mrysti came by, grabbing her legs. They managed to pull her down, several others joining in by jumping on top of her.
Raging, Mrysti grimaced and sprang upward. Launching her arms and head up and back with a ferocious scream. The pile of inmates flew in all directions. Running back toward her to attack again. Mrysti didn’t have time to rely on the Force. Fists and elbows flying, she spun into the crowd. Bone split and cracked with each strike; Mrysti making her way through the thrall a little at a time. Bodies flew in all directions, Mrysti screamed in rage again continuing to advance.
Reaching the end of the cell block, she looked back. Only three or four of the nearly four dozen inmates were still standing. And those that were looked back toward Mrysti in awe. Standing stoically, their mouths slightly agape at not only the carnage caused by the one who passed through, but the Mirialan herself. Mrysti looked back and wiped a bit of their blood off her face as she let out a haggard breath. Looking toward the door, she kicked it in and entered the dimly lit hallway, making her way back up toward the admin area.
--
- Sith Citadel, Dromand Kaas…
Vowrawn said nothing as he strode through the main foyer of the Citadel. And no one asked any questions of the Dark Lord. Though not all eyes were on him. More, the individual who followed a few steps behind him. Even as he walked fast and deliberate; heading for the communications suite, Grace seemed to stride slower. One step for every four of the one she followed. His shorter legs having to make distance quicker in contrast to the long leggy Mirialan who walked behind him. And Vowrawn made no attempt at explanation. Almost as if Grace belonged there, just as he did.
They arrived in the suite, technicians turning to look at the two as they entered. The Imperial Commander getting up and moving toward him immediately, bowing sharply in greeting. “M-My Lord…unexpected—” Glancing at Grace, the Commander narrowed his eyes before looking back to Vowrawn. “—we have your daily communiques, My Lord. I could have someone bring them to you and—”
“No” Vowrawn spoke sharply, watching the Commander eye Grace again. “Is there a problem, Commander?”
“Nuh-No, My Lord…it’s just—you know Darth Malgus’ policy on unauthorized personnel in the Communications area.” The Commander turned toward Grace. “I’m sorry, My Lord…but I don’t recognize you. Only Dark Lords of certain rank and status are allowed in—”
“You will address me, Commander.” Vowrawn glared toward the man, who presumed to speak to Grace on his own. “My ‘assistant’—” Vowrawn glanced over at Grace. Remembering what she said about not being an Apprentice or a Jedi. It took a moment for him to come up with something to call her. “—is privy to all of my communications. Her word is mine.” Without allowing him to respond, Vowrawn stepped to the side headed for the private projection room. Grace followed, but only after smiling and shrugging at the Commander. Once they were a few steps away, she leaned in.
“Very well played, Vowrawn…”
“Oh, shut up.”
After entering the room, Vowrawn closed the door behind them. He moved to the projection pad and stood on it. Activating the system with a twist of his hand in the Force. The lights dimmed. Blue projection lights activating around the room as he stood and waited for the communication to start.
“I’m not sure what we’re doing here. If you mean to try and contact the prison, I believe you are already too late.”
Vowrawn was not one for destiny or foresight. He didn’t believe in fate or the inevitability of things being set a certain way. Vowrawn always believed you made your own fate and destiny. You could always effect change. The communication started. Vowrawn knew it wasn’t live. It would take several days for the message to reach sector G-7. Narrowing his eyes, he looked directly into the projector and started to speak.
“…Captain Tanis, this is Darth Vowrawn. I send this in response to your request for assistance. Unfortunately, any help sent would take far too long to reach you and by that time the situation will become unmanageable. You are free to use whatever means you feel necessary to contain the prison. No one, I repeat NO ONE is to be allowed off the prison asteroid. Should the need arise, you have authorization to destroy the asteroid. Let me make this order completely clear. If you feel you must destroy the prison asteroid to contain any escape, do so….”
After the projection stopped and the lights began to rise once again, Vowrawn looked at Grace and smiled viciously. She stood, arms folded to her front glaring at him.
“It changes nothing.” Grace narrowed her eyes. “You cannot escape your fate. Destroying the asteroid will not stop what is to come.”
“We’ll see….” Vowrawn stepped past her and walked out. “…once your usefulness has ended. You will share your Mother’s fate. She has only a few days left now.” Vowrawn stopped and turned around to face his new 'assistant'. "...and so do you."
--
Malgus wasn’t far. Content to let things play out as they would after he set certain things in motion. Malgus was not a micromanager. A master tactician, that saw six or seven moves ahead. The latest addition to the ‘game’, not something he would have foreseen.
The prison was out of reach and cut off from communications. Malgus had, of course, received the communications from the fleet in that sector and knew about the emergency request for assistance. Not answering and allowing it to go on for a few weeks. Only to allow Vowrawn to finally catch up and make the move he knew would be inevitable. Malgus knew all of it as they stood on the reviewing stand watching he troops pass. It was why he warned Vowrawn that all of it he brought on himself. The thought passed, perhaps he should intervene. Counter the order Vowrawn sent to the fleet to destroy the prison. Something ‘elusive’ in the Force tugged at him. Malgus decided not to send any messages, at least not yet. And it had nothing to do with trying to counter Vowrawn. It had everything to do with the new and mysterious ‘assistant’, as Vowrawn put it, who recent arrived. The Force was Malgus tool to use. And it told him everything he needed to know. Malgus never had any doubts, from the moment that Vowrawn started the entire affair how all of it would end up. And with Grace’s arrival all of what he knew to be true was coming to pass.
There was no reason to try and reach out in order to see why things had been cut off in that sector. Malgus was confident in his ability to read people and see through them into what they would do in any given situation. No doubt, Mrysti was well into her escape. And even though he had no idea what was going on out in sector G-7, Malgus was sure that all of what was taking place had everything to do with Mrysti and nothing Vowrawn could do would change the outcome. He watched as the two of them left the communications area and walked toward the private chambers all Dark Council members kept close to the main audience hall. Placing a hand to his mask he pondered. A Jedi, walking the halls of the Citadel. A spark of anger shot through him. Anger he quickly quelled. Misplaced. There was a reason Grace was there and it had nothing to do with the Republic or the Jedi. And everything to do with the fate Vowrawn had woven for himself.
For a long time, Malgus wondered what instrument the Force was going to utilize to finally deal with Vowrawn. For a time, he thought that instrument would be him. Or perhaps Mrysti when she finally returned. It no longer mattered if Mrysti returned. The Force, sending a clear message as all of the walls began to close in around Vowrawn. There was no escape for him. The hole he dug for himself getting deeper. Seeing Grace for the first time walking behind Vowrawn it hit him. The tool giving him clairvoyance deep into the situation. The prison, the Colonel; even Mrysti. All of it suddenly meant nothing in the greater scheme. There was a new piece on the board. And the weapon of choice walked a few meters behind Vowrawn. It wouldn’t be Mrysti that the Force would use to exact the pound of flesh needed to re-balance everything and get the war back on track.
It was going to be Grace.
--
- ‘The End’….
“Set up a firing line here…” The Warden raised his blaster up and looked outward. The comm-transmitter on his wrist acknowledged the message he sent out to the Imperial fleet, but also chimed a location of threats. He had to cut the alert off. It was going off every few minutes; threats were everywhere. Having lost track of both Mrysti and Cornelia; the Warden was interested in only getting out alive. His office and administrative levels overrun by the strongest of the prison’s gang population first.
This was the second rush. The guard mount had all of the power cells they could take from the armory after Canton left. The Warden was digging in for the long haul. As the prisoner shadows started to come down the hall, the Warden didn’t hesitate. Before the screams of the charge reached them, as he learned from the first charge, the Warden smiled wickedly.
“Fire…”
The hall lit up with the light of several dozen blaster rifles and heavy repeater cannons.
--
Rickter sat on the floor. Arms wrapped around herself, she rocked back and forth. Even after setting the saber down, HE was still there. Still inside her and there was no way to get him out. Her eyes shot to the saberhilt on the floor next to her as she continued to rock back and forth. Squeezing her arms around herself tighter. “Please…” She whispered. Rickter wanted him out. Needed him out. The voice was there, it was always there. And she could see him. The glow of feet standing in front of her ever present. Rickter closed her eyes tightly.
<”Please?”> the voice spoke in her mind. <”You beg me for life. I have given you the power to consume. And we will.”>
“No” Her eyes still shut, Rickter shook her head. Memories of going down into the asteroid, of finding the thing Malgus sent her to find. Why would he send her to her death? Rickter knew, she meant nothing. Not to Malgus, not to the Empire. A fact she only half-accepted in her long career. Now it was reality standing a few feet from her.
<”You will serve…”> The voice said again. And she had served. Had been serving all of her adult life. How was it any different? The Force, something she never experienced. It was like a torrential storm that she couldn’t understand and could not control. Albeit tainted by the power granted to her by the saber.
Her head snapped up as she looked at the door. In her mind she saw the entity look over as well. Sion moved. The glowing green feet moving in her mind’s eye toward the door. He felt it too. Just as she did. Rickter didn’t know how she knew or what she felt. The power flowing through her was the entity. It approached the door and laid a hand against it before looking back to her. Rickter still clutching herself. Though the rocking stopped. Her eyes wet with tears, she opened them wide and looked past the entity as it narrowed its gaze back toward her.
“My Lord…” Rickter whispered.
<”Another.”> Sion spoke. Its ghastly voice raspy with contempt and vitriol.
It disappeared. Sion blinking out in Rickter’s mind. She began shaking her head, the speed increasing as she once again started to cry. “No…” She moaned. “…no more….”
<”Serve me”> She heard it. One of her hands coming off her body; Rickter fought the urge. Her arm shaking as she reached for it.
“Nuh-no….”
Snatching up the hilt, not of her own will, she instantly stood. The flash of the entity infusing her once again. Eyes glowed an ethereal green. Rickter activated the saber and strode toward the door. Both voices; hers and Sion spoke in unison.
<”She approaches. A Vessel…a much more…’powerful’ vessel…”> Sion smiled. It made Rickter’s face look inhuman. The smile threatening to break the skin at the corners of her mouth.
<”She…will serve….”>
--
https%3A%2F%2Fi.imgur.com%2FezTCvjB.jpg [https://i.imgur.com/ezTCvjB.jpg]
--
‘The End’….
<”Look at them run…”> Both Canton and Cornelia found it hilarious that those who once tried to strike fear in the prison populace and in them was now running for their lives. And it annoyed Cornelia that all of the various guards and prisoners seemed to be more afraid of Canton than her. The armor, clearly Mandalorian was something most of the prisoners and guards knew of only in legend. Having not actually seen a Mandalorian in action; only hearing the tales. There were other Mandalorians or at least those arrested as Mandalorians elsewhere in the prison. But Canton was the only one placed in Maximum Security. What Canton was giving them all and Cornelia to some extent, was a first-hand look at the capabilities of a Mandalorian in tune with both his body and his armor.
Canton launched his wrist out and fired down the hall. A rocket hitting the blockade of makeshift furniture and other assorted items. The Prisoners in that section trying to keep anyone out and themselves in. <”We need to destroy that in order to get by…”> Canton spoke, looking down at Cornelia in his visor. She nodded and got off her knee, standing to face the blockade.
They stopped firing back, the prisoners withdrawing in confidence that not even a Mandalorian was going to breach the blockade of assorted junk. Cornelia raised an arm and channeled the Force, closing her eyes after taking a good mind’s eye picture of what she needed to do. Pieces of the debris started to shake and rattle. Cornelia pressed in with her mind and body. Her hands began to shake. Jerking her eyes open she grimaced and screamed out loud as she swiped out past herself. Grabbing the junk in her mind and tossing it away.
Blowing inward, the prisoners taking refuge behind the junk pile were blown backward by the Force. The debris an aftershock of the distortion. Combined ripples of invisible energy and tendrils of electrical Force imbued lightning arched out and around the debris as it flew inward killing, hitting and destroying anything behind it. The hall was clear, Cornelia sagged a moment as Canton came up alongside of her placing an arm around her waist to lift her a bit before looking down.
<“Damn, baby…”> Were the only words Canton spoke. Loading his blasters again quickly, charging them as the two advanced.
--
‘The End’, Armory….
The ground shook in the passageway. The floor rattling, then buckling as the floor exploded upward. Mrysti was already up. Leaping through the hole she created to stand on the main upper passageway. She looked back. The skyway she was originally brought across in order to meet the Warden and that linked the main prison to the administration and special cells areas was behind her.
Already she sensed the entity once again. It wasn’t too long before she entered that it passed the same way. Mrysti by-passed a good portion of the prison in going her own way. Entering the administration complex, Mrysti extended her sense again. There was still a lot of building between herself and whatever it was. Still unsure how Colonel Rickter fit into any of it. She WAS the entity or the entity somehow consumed her? There had to be some clues going forward. Rounding the corner of the highly polished floor, she looked up at the signs. One way for the Armory, the other for special cells.
--
Canton did not usually let Cornelia lead. After the last display of power, she earned it. The AI was feeding him all kinds of telemetry data anyway. Canton needed a minute to decipher it, as they rounded the corner. He pointed ahead, the HUD system laying out a schematic of the zone they were entering.
<”Aux hanger is this way…droid controlled. Won’t find anything in there we can fly, but we’re gettin’ closer to the outside of—“>
He was about to finish with ‘…access points that would eventually lead them where they needed to go.’ The blast from the hangar ahead scoured the wall and skirted along its edge before bouncing off the corner. Whoever was in the hangar saw the shadows of the two approaching. Fortunately, Cornelia sensed the shot before she sensed who fired it. Jumping back behind the wall, she looked over her shoulder at Canton. He was already asking the AI to give him information. Canton shook his head.
<”No lifeforms. Droids.”> Canton took out his blaster loading a fresh power cell. Her lightsaber already lit; Cornelia was going around the corner when her comm unit chimed.
--
“Cornelia…” Mrysti voice was jovial. In the background on Cornelia’s end she heard the repeated blaster fire of automated systems. “…I hear you’ve ran into something once again. I am in the admin complex.”
<”Understood, Master”> Cornelia’s reply was short and clipped. Obviously both herself and Canton too busy to get into a lengthy conversation.
“Both of you disregard the admin levels. Skirt the outside and make your way to the hangars. I will have it opened by the time you get there.”
--
“Understood, Master. Out.” Another blast chipped the wall away and Cornelia squinted against it, backing up another step. Canton shook his head.
<”I was just about to say that…”> Canton pointed at the comm device still in Cornelia’s hand. She smirked, twirling the saber in her other hand.
“You ready to do this…”
“…you have to ask?”
--
Mrysti waved out to her side as she approached. The two guards keeping watch over the armory entrance lifted up sharply and flew backward into the wall. Waving again, Mrysti opened the door in the Force. A release of pressurized air greeted Mrysti as the door slid open.
It was her intention to find weapons. Or to try and get a location on Colonel Rickter. Mrysti was getting close. The main Armory was close to both the Admin area and the Solitary Confinement Cells. Mrysti looked down, one of the guards began to stir. Mrysti reached down and snatched him up. Lifting the guard to her face as she sneered into it.
“Colonel Rickter” Mrysti questioned. She didn’t bother looking at the armor. Identifying if the guard was one of Colonel Rickter’s or one of the normal prison guard force. The guard’s helmeted head lulled to the side, but finally snapped upright once he finally gained all of his senses.
“Th-tha…Colonel—”
“Yes” Mrysti spoke sharply, “—where is she?”
“Sh-she went below—an unknown location…took several with her. No contact—” Lifting her other hand, Mrysti squeezed it into a fist until she heard the guard’s neck crunch inward. She dropped the body unceremoniously and proceeded inside. Smiling once she crossed the threshold. It was clear Canton had been there.
The weapons racks were already looted. The armory itself in shambles. No one bothered to mess with the rows and rows of personal gear and items stored of the prisoners who were residents of the prison. Deserted, the armory looked bare of all the obvious weapons and armor. The Mirialan smiled to herself again. The most dangerous weapons wouldn’t have been obvious. She glanced upward at the ever present ‘red-eye’ of the AI which tracked her. No doubt Canton able to see where she was as well as the AI. Though the AI was no longer tracking her or those with her as a threat. A fact that could soon change if those in the admin section figured out to manipulate the program once again. Another reason that getting to the admin section was critical.
Moving to the gated area, Mrysti parted the fence with another wave of the hand. The linked lattice flew out behind her. Mrysti narrowed her eyes. She could feel it even before she looked visibly. Her eyes immediately going to a rack with stacked military style shipping crates one on top of the other. The crystal was tuned by Sammantha when the child was only five, the saber made for Mrysti. Slinging her arm out behind her, Mrysti jerked all but one of the crates off the rack. They flew out behind her crashing into the beyond of the armory. The one lone crate staying on the rack staring back at her.
Gently, Mrysti lifted it in the Force and opened the box. Besides her armor which was given to the prison on her arrival by the transport ship, her saber rested neatly in a cradle of foam and other packing material. Reaching in, she lifted it and immediately felt ‘home’ flow through her. Thoughts of her daughters made her smile. Mrysti reached in and picked up the hilt gently. She flourished the hilt, swinging it out to the side. Activating the orange-red blade Mrysti lifted it and started at the glowing plasma. The warmth of the glow. Home. They had all finally turned the corner. 'Home' was in reach.
One step closer to freedom and vengeance.
--
Confusion was not something Canton voiced normally. His armor’s systems usually giving him all of the information he required. But the auxiliary hangar was a different kind of strange. Not only was it droid controlled, the AI had it completely off the grid. And Canton had no idea why. Someone, from somewhere had set the droids to attack literally anything with a heartbeat. He grabbed Cornelia before she leapt around the corner, pulling her back.
“I thought you said you were ready…”
Canton looked up and shook his head. <”I lied…”>
Just needing a few more minutes to figure out why the hangar was off the grid, Canton’s systems were interfacing with the AI as he jerked up and at a strange angle suddenly. Arcs of electricity started flowing across his armor. The grunt and grimace of pain cut off from the inside as the external speaker of his helmet cut out. Cornelia grabbed him. Trying to hold him up. Canton was heavy all of a sudden and Cornelia found she had to put a little bit of her power behind holding him up as the hydraulics of his armor shorted out, along with every other system. The HUD cut out just as the overload completed. Cornelia set him down on the floor, in the prone, with a resounding ‘thud’ of metal hitting the duracrete floor.
“Canton!!!” Cornelia screamed. Her face down, right next to his visor. She heard mumbling, but under the helmet she couldn’t hear clearly. Placing her ear right up to the surface of the visor. “I can hear you…what happened?!?!”
“Feedback loop.” Canton’s voice was distant, muffled. His next words answering the question Cornelia was about to ask. “…armor’s security override sealed me in. So, I’m stuck.” Inside the armor, Canton tried to flex his limbs. The weight far too heavy to move completely. Only the undersuit of his armor insulating him from the feedback loop and deliberate attack by the AI as Canton tried to pry deeper into information as to whom set the hanger to attack anything entering the area. Cornelia sat up smiling. It was funny, even in the middle of battle to see Canton; who a moment before could have taken on any comers in the prison, reduced to laying on his back. For all of the dislike Canton had for Force Users, Cornelia had to smile at the reliance on technology. Another blast from inside the hanger hit close to the wall they were behind. Shards of duracrete peppering them both as Cornelia squinted. “They’re not gonna come out here. I need to restart my systems. Pull the power cells under my arms and put them back in. That should initiate a hard reboot.” Cornelia laughed at the muffled voice. “I’m glad you think this is funny. Meanwhile, you an me ‘r sittin’ ducklings.”
“I thought you could move in your armor without power…” Cornelia narrowed her eyes, already reaching under to pull one of the power cells. “…you’re certainly big enough.”
“Ha, Ha…” The muffled voice came again. “Has nothing to do with physical strength. Normal armor, yes…heavy armor, no. This is a reinforced unit. We were getting’ ready for war when I got….’sent’ here. I kinda need the hydraulics.” Canton strained against the armor, moving his arm and a leg slightly. “…why do you think I insist on being up front?”
“I thought it was because you don’t trust me….” Cornelia laughed again. Moving over to his other arm to pull the second cell.
“Full’a jokes today. I love it….” Canton’s muffled voice remarked sarcastically. “Because my armor can take a hell of’a lot more abuse than flesh and bone…and I…uh…kinda like your flesh. Your bones too.”
Lights on the power cells and the sensors of Canton’s armor winked and began flashing as the power cut back on. Cornelia sat back and waited, half expecting him to just sit up. When he continued to lay still, Cornelia moved back over the top of him looking down into his visor. “Ok….now what…”
“Give it a minute…” There was muffled laughter. “…I told’ya it was gonna take about five minutes.”
The firing within the hangar changed direction. Cornelia sat up and looked toward the corner. Crawling until she got to the edge to peer around. The Imperial shuttle landed under fire. And returned fire as it sat down within the hangar. Automated defenses exploding under the shuttle’s direct fire of turrets and wing mounted cannons. The fighting continued once the shuttle set all the way down. It was clear the shuttle was making a combat landing. Landing cycle steam along with the high-pitched whine of continually turning engine turbines filled the space between Cornelia and the landing pad. She scooted back, looking down at Canton.
“A shuttle’s landing.” Cornelia said excitedly. An interesting development. Not only had their way off the asteroid arrived and was within their grasp, they were close.
“Great. And here I am grounded.” Standing up, Cornelia activated her lightsaber. Canton’s muffled voice got louder. “Oh no you don’t. Un-uh…Corny!! No!! You have no idea what that shuttle is bringing in!”
Cornelia moved to the corner again. Two teams of black armored troopers were fanning out, continuing their attack on the droids. From the far side access, a blast door slid open. Another group of Imperials were running toward the shuttle. Firing on the droids in an attempt to join the troopers coming off the shuttle. Cornelia got a look at the red tunic in the new group, narrowing her eyes.
It was the Warden.
--
Leaving the Armory, Mrysti took off at a run. Heading back the way she came until she reached the intersection she originally jumped up from the lower level. It felt good to have her hands wrapped around the hilt of her lightsaber. The Orange-red glow of the crossguard constructed saber gave her a warm sense of peace and safety. It reminded her of happier times, mostly because holding it reminded her of the one who constructed it.
Over the years, Mrysti made modifications. Improved it. Ported the two crossguard exhaust ports just above the top of the handle. Cast the entire thing in one complete type of metal. It looked a little more, ‘refined’. More than it did when it was originally constructed by the five-year old Sammantha. Who used various pieces of different types of scrap metal to make the saber originally. The blueprints came from Alexandra. Who gave the plans to Sammantha. With no idea that the child would take the ancient Sith blueprints and actually make something out of them.
But it wasn’t the construction that was most surprising. It was the crystal. Mrysti's original green Kyber. Found on Ilum by Mrysti during her sojourn to the mines. The crystal called to her as she meditated. Leading her further down into the mine, way past the others who were on the same quest. Mrysti put that crystal away when the saber was returned to her by her sister, who recovered it on Korriban. The remains of a hovel complex an evil taskmaster kept Mrysti in for years. A place that Mrysti would never return to, Karolin took the opportunity during the war with the Eternal Empire to journey there on her own. Finding the saber to return it to its rightful owner.
Like the color of the saber crystal Mrysti found in her Taskmaster’s chambers during her escape more than two decades before, Sammantha held the crystal in her little five-year-old hands and concentrated in its power. She ‘ask’ it to reveal itself. The original green crystal was already tuned to her Mother, but like her Mother the crystal needed change. Sammantha asked the crystal to once again serve. Serve her Mother as it once did. Sammnatha asked in a nice way. Explaining to the crystal and to the Force that all things change. And like her Mother, the crystal had to change to continue to be useful. To have a place in the galaxy. When she opened her hands, the green faded into a brilliant orange-red. Sammantha placed the crystal into the hilt. A saber made to be useful to her Mother once again.
Mrysti smiled to herself. Two great memories all in one. Sammantha and…her own Mother, Alexandra. The smile quickly faded. How disappointed her Mother would be in Mrysti. That she did not follow the path Alexandra set out for her. Did not seek redemption and become the Jedi, Alexandra always hoped she would be. But that was not Mrysti’s destiny.
<”Your Destiny…”> Mrysti froze as she rounded the corner. The entity not only reading Mrysti’s thoughts, but intercepting them. <”…lies with me.”>
Launching a hand out toward her, the entity projected itself. Mrysti felt her senses bombarded, overwhelmed instantly. Dropping her own saber, Mrysti was lifted from the ground. Her psyche suddenly overtaken by the presence of another as it left Rickter and entered Mrysti. She grit her teeth, screaming out loud.
<”Yes…a better vessel. She will serve…”>