Xuul Zephyrot
Active member
Prologue
I, Senec Tinople, call the Sith for aid.
Yes, those same Sith whom I abandoned. The Sith from whom I disappeared without a word, stealing a fighter from the Academy hangar and disappearing into the galaxy. The Sith whose calls and communiques I resolutely avoided, blocked, and ignored.
Have I got your attention now? You surely must think I am mad. Why would I return to Korriban and subject myself to the judgment of the Dark Council, to the wrath of my own Master? She too knew nothing of why I disappeared, and I ignored her signals to return to Korriban as well. The Academy has not been my home for months now, and the respect and prestige I earned while in these halls must surely now be in doubt. Yet I return, not slinking back like a subdued vornksr to his master, but rather like a herald, with an urgent call for help, for the order of the Sith itself may be in jeopardy.
In these chronicles, I will tell all that has happened since I disappeared (or, at any rate, all that is relevant). It all began one Korriban night, a month after my adventures on Etti IV and my first training session with Darth Traya, a week after I joined the ranks of House Tenebris, as I entered Tenebris’ barracks after a long day of training . . .
Jedi Deception
I was as tired as a hunted womp rat as I entered Tenebris barracks. Every muscle ached, and as I bent to set down my pack, a fresh scar made me wince and bite back a curse. Grievance Vexx was a hard and merciless tutor, and my first training session with him had been exhausting. Very few beings my age would even think of sparring with a legendary Sith general, much less an aged Caamasi such as myself. As I straightened once again, I felt every year of my age multiply the pain of those scars, and this time, I could not hold back a curse. However, rather than using the Force to soothe the wounds, I momentarily focused on the pain, drawing it in, and letting the frustration and exhaustion burn like fire within me. Slowly, I was learning to abandon the tenets of the cursed species who had bred so much docility into me, and I was learning to survive on pain and struggle.
With a soft tone, my datapad chimed with an unusual message. This time, as I bent to retrieve it from my pack, I silently embraced the pain and internalized it. However, I quickly forgot my exhaustion as I frowned at the exceedingly strange details of the message’s delivery. It was an official Sith communique, sent directly from the desk of the Sith governor of a planet called Ulicia. The name was not familiar to me. Quickly, I searched its name in the Sith database. My brow furrowed further. Ulicia was a planet in the Corporate Sector. By all accounts, it was completely unexceptional, its only notable landmark being the headquarters of a tech company called Commex.
Distant alarm bells began to ring in my mind. Returning to the message, I scanned its contents with growing apprehension.
“To Apprentice Senec Tinople of the Sith. I have recently uncovered a conspiracy in the Corporate Sector. So have you. I have uncovered vital information proving that this conspiracy is far larger than our two encounters and may threaten your precious Order. If any preemptive action is taken, it may prompt the conspirators to launch their plan immediately and result in the fall of the Sith . . . and of the Jedi. Meet me on Farana tomorrow. Tell no one of this message or where you are going. If you bring anyone with you, I will know, and you will not find me on Farana. Once you reach the system, I will send you the meeting location.”
That was it. No signature, no explanation, nothing. Suspicion immediately grew in my mind. There was no way this was from the Sith governor. If it had been, there would have been no need for secrecy, and they certainly would have signed their name at the end. There was only one conclusion to be drawn, one I had already reached before even reading the message. Someone had uncovered a plot on Ulicia like the one on Etti IV. That meant that the Sith governor had been involved in some corrupt plot, and my mystery messenger had likely foiled that plot and, like me, ended up at the office of the Sith governor. How they had discovered my actions, however, were beyond me.
To abandon Korriban without telling anyone was unwise, to be sure. It risked the wrath of my Master, for one thing. And, of course, though I was sure answers would wait on Ulicia, I could not discount the possibility of a trap either. The bounty for Sith acolytes and apprentices was still active in the Corporate Sector after all. Whomever had lured the five dead acolytes to Etti IV could easily lure me to Ulicia with the promise of answers and a warning to tell no one, only for me to find a well-laid trap with no Sith to come rescue me. I would need to consider my next actions very carefully . . .
Farana roared into view as my ‘borrowed’ Sith fighter blasted out of hyperspace. I breathed a sigh of relief. It had been a tense night, and my sleep during hyperspace transit had been fitful at best. Stealing a fighter from the academy was no easy spin, and I was sure my departure had been noted by Dreshdae Spaceport Control. It was only a matter of time before the Sith put two and two together and realized who that stolen fighter had belonged to. Nevertheless, I put aside my worries. Pragmatism dictated that I would worry about such things when they caught up to me. In the meantime, I had a mysterious stranger to meet.
As if in answer to my thoughts, my datapad pinged. This time, it was an encrypted message on a local frequency. It contained instructions for a place to meet in Farana’s main city. As before, it was not signed. I resolved to put my fighter down in the wilds some ways outside the city and make my way in from there. Hopefully, it would make my trail harder to follow if the Sith did decide to pursue me.
Farana was a nondescript world; there was no other way to put it. It had fields, forests, plains, and unremarkable mountain ranges, and all the other middling charms of a temperate planet. Although the area immediately around Farana City was settled, I was able to find a small forest in which to enshroud my fighter. I grasped my cane firmly, slung my pack over my shoulder, and headed cross country towards the city, doing my best to travel unnoticed across field and road.
It was not long after my entrance into the city before I found the location where we were to meet. I was taken aback. For someone dealing in conspiracies and Sith apprentices, this mystery being was either incredibly arrogant or naive to choose an outdoor cafe as a place of meeting. The cafe was vacant, at least, save for a single cloaked figure, their back turned to me. They must be my contact. The streets themselves were empty, curiously so, and I stretched out with the Force to the buildings around me, searching for a hint of hostile intent, some sign of a trap ready to be sprung. But there was nothing, only the normal worries and joys of everyday citizens. As I drew level with the gate entry to the cafe, I withdrew my Force senses from my surroundings and instead focused them on the hooded figure sitting before me. I could not conceal my shock as their senses seemed to meet mine, as if they had turned and looked at me without moving. They, too, were Force-sensitive - and highly adept in the Force as well.
The being rose and spun to face me, her cloak billowing outwards as she did so. My shock grew, then turned to anticipation as I came face-to-face with her and saw the distinctive robes she wore beneath her brown cloak and the weapon that hung at her belt. It seems I had been summoned to Farana by a Jedi.
Slowly, I entered into the cafe, took off my cloak, and hung it around a seat. For a moment, we stood, watching each other silently. I tried to probe the Jedi’s mind to discover her intent, not willing to immediately be drawn into a confrontation. Though I had grown more adept with a blade thanks to the training of Darth Traya and Lord Vexx, I had made it a personal mission of mine to be able to handle any situation without igniting a lightsaber, without coming to rely on such a crude weapon when so many other means and methods were readily available. I expected resistance; however, her mind was remarkably pliant, seeming to almost invite me inside without a care.
Whether her open mind was a calculated ploy to convince me of her trustworthiness or a foolish oversight, it was clear that she was not presenting herself as a threat to me. She smiled blithely at me, lowering her hood to reveal light blue skin and a delicate, almost avian human face.
“Welcome, Senec Tinople. I have been looking forward to our meeting.”
I sneered as I drew closer, tapping my cane rhythmically, arriving directly in front of her. “I feel welcome indeed . . . Sola Varah. Thank you for inviting me in; it makes things so much easier.”
Her eyes widened. Suddenly, it was as if blast doors slid across her consciousness, shielding it from my view. I laughed scornfully. “Not much of a Jedi, are you, Varah? First you plan a secret meeting in a street cafe, then you fail to prepare even the most basic mental defense when going to meet with a Sith.” My gaze hardened, locking eyes with her. “Give it up. Who actually contacted me, and what have you done with them?”
“I did!” She protested, crossing her arms tightly. “Or, that is to say,” she turned towards the entrance of the building, “we did.”
I spun in that direction, fully expecting a complement of Jedi Knights to burst out the front door, cursing myself for my stupidity. The door opened, but instead of a swirl of robes and lightsabers, there was only a stiff metal clanking as a shiny supervisor droid emerged and approached us. I did not allow the Jedi to see my surprise, raising an eyebrow and turning back to observe her smug expression. “So that’s how you knew of my exploits on Etti IV.”
The droid offered a stiff bow. “Greetings, Senec Tinople. I am glad to see that you are well.”
“Evade,” I returned, no affection in my voice. “You’re not dead.”
“An astute observation, sir,” the EV-series droid responded, its voice heavy with sarcasm. “I do seem to have evaded death. Mistress Varah discovered me while sent on a mission to investigate the destruction of the Cybot Galactica facility. Somehow, she was able to reconstruct both my body and my mind from the fragmented pool of metal I had become. How she managed this is beyond me.”
I dismissed this observation with a wave of my feathered hand. “The how of that matter is irrelevant. What interests me is what happened to you on Ulicia. How you know that the two matters are connected. And what a Jedi could possibly want from a Sith.”
“The how of that matter is irrelevant as well,” Varah interjected, sweeping around the table to sit at one end and gesturing me towards the other seat. “As for your second question . . . ” she hesitated.
I cut her off, a wave of scorn rolling from me yet again. “Did you not hear me the first time, Jedi? Speaking of these things in open air is dangerously naive, especially if this conspiracy is as widespread as you claim. We will speak of the details in private. In the meantime, answer me this. Give me an answer that’s not to my satisfaction, and you will be lucky if I disappear, never to be seen by you again.” I tapped her chest with the tip of my cane. “Do not take my words lightly, Jedi. If you answer incorrectly, the consequences will be . . . dire.” I let the words hang in the air a moment. She offered no reaction, meeting my gaze with an obstinately blank stare. I continued with clear suspicion in my voice, “Why have you come to me instead of to your vaunted Order? Surely they would be eager to know of a ‘threat’ to their very existence. Even if I have previous experience with this secret organization, surely it would be better for you to keep the Sith out of this matter altogether.”
Again, she hesitated. “I . . . can’t.”
I sighed, preparing to unleash mind shards to forcibly gain entry to her mind again. Perhaps I would at least glean some useful information from her before I killed her.
She held up a hand. “Wait. I’ve already told you of my reasons not to contact the Jedi, when I bade you not to tell your own superiors.”
“You did not bid me to do anything,” I snapped back. “However,” I ceded reluctantly, “the advice is potentially sound. If a threat indeed exists, it would be just like the Jedi to go gallivanting after the threat and put their own foot in their mouth.”
“As if the Sith would do any better,” she retorted. “Why do you think I told you not to tell anyone? Tell any of your so-called ‘Lords,’ and you’d immediately have a continent of blood-thirsty Sith scrambling into the first sign of danger without a second thought. No, this matter is better dealt with discreetly. And while I wouldn’t exactly call bringing down Cybot’s cloud cutter subtle,” she shot a condescending look at me, “You’re the only choice I have for a partner in solving this.”
“I’m flattered.” I walked back over to the entrance of the cafe and retrieved my cloak, once again draping it over my shoulders. “Very well, Jedi, you’ve passed my first test. Come back to my ship, and we can discuss this further.”
“Your ship?” Varah scoffed. “You mean that rinky-dink little fighter you flew in on? As if that would be any more ‘private’ than talking right here. Do you see anyone listening?”
“No. And that’s exactly why we can’t talk here. The streets here are quiet.” I watched the empty streets with a frown. “Too quiet.”
Varah rolled her eyes, putting her own hood back up as well. “Fine. If it helps your little Sith ego, we can go back to your ship. Do they train you to be paranoid little freaks, or were you always like this?” She jerked her head towards the droid. “Come on, Evade. Let’s follow the bird.”
We walked down empty street after empty street, and with each new avenue, my unease grew more and more. The only way the streets were this bare was a government-mandated order. There were any number of reasons that could have been commanded, but what if-
“There you are.”
As one, Varah and I turned around, her hand delving into her cloak, my own posture tensing.
Before us stood what was unmistakably a Jedi Knight. His stance was wide-spread, like that of a trained duelist, his arms crossed, a deep scowl on his face. He wore no cloak, but instead wore the tight fitting robes of a Jedi, bolstered by armor in the style of the Jedi generals of the Clone Wars. Twin lightsabers hung on his belt, identical to Varah’s own.
Varah’s hand withdrew from her cloak as she recognized him, although her tenseness did not ease. If anything, it crescendoed as she removed her hood and attempted to compose herself. “Master! I can explain-“
“You will explain,” he interrupted brusquely, striding forward, “You will explain why you attempted to deceive me and knowingly conspired with a Sith behind my back. But you will do so before the Jedi Council. Right now, you will come with me.” His gaze moved from her to me, a bitter edge to his voice. “As for you, Sith, count yourself lucky that I have no business with you. Begone while I still have my patience.”
“Quite a pair of Jedi,” I observed evenly. “One too naive to guard her mind even slightly, and one with an unmistakable inner rage. You seem like an impressive fighter, Jedi. You would make a fine Sith.”
“You think your tired Sith bait is going to get a rise out of me, Apprentice? Count yourself lucky that I have no desire to fight with you and escape while you still can.”
I turned to Varah. “I see how it is now,” my eyes lingered on a single braid of wispy hair dangling at the side of her head, a detail I now noticed too late, “Padawan.” I returned my attention to the Knight, “Unfortunately, Jedi, I still have need of your apprentice. I will need to borrow her for a while. I do so hope you will not object.”
The Jedi advanced; I could practically hear his teeth grinding. “Oh, I object, all right. Final warning. Stand down.”
I gave a meaningful look to Varah. “Oh look. The gallivanting Jedi have arrived. I’m sure he won’t go off blabbing to the council about your discovery once you tell him.”
“Discovery?” The Knight scowled. “What discovery?”
“The one about a conspiracy, Jedi. One that threatens this Order’s very existence. Padawan Varah here withheld this information from you because she knew you would immediately tell your precious Council about it, and you would all spring into action without taking any moments to consider subtler methods.”
The Jedi looked even angrier, if that was possible. “You can’t keep secrets from me, Sola. You never could. You want to know how I found you here? I knew you were coming here the whole time. The Sith’s right. You never mastered shielding your mind. You never even tried to. When you came out of that Cybot skyscraper, I knew something was amiss instantly. That you’d seen something that shook you. But when you didn’t even mention it to me, I knew you were trying to hide something. So I bit my tongue and waited. And sure enough, you snuck off to Farana without my permission. I thought maybe you were on the trail of something and were trying to protect me. That’s why I cleared the streets for you. I was trying to make things easier.” His voice had raised to practically a yell. He stopped, took a breath, obviously making an effort to calm down, then continued more quietly with a bitter tone. “But no. Now I find you sent a message off to Korriban without my knowledge. And you’re here conspiring with a Sith. What happened to you, Sola? How could you do this?”
Varah faltered, stepped forward once, then stopped. “I-“
It was clear that she would surrender imminently if I did not intervene. I sensed an opportunity approaching, one far too full of promise to pass up. Reunited with Evade, I could continue my investigation alone, but the promise of a pliant Jedi Padawan . . .
I interjected. “So, then, Jedi Knight. What do you plan to do? She has made it plain that you cannot come to the Council with the information she has. Why do you think she tried to keep it from you? You cannot be trusted with it."
“Shut up, Sith,” the Jedi Knight ground out. “Sola, get over here. Now.”
Subtly, I fed off her fear and uncertainty, sending it in a feedback loop back to her to intensify her confusion and indecision, speaking to her in a low voice, “You know you cannot go with him. You know he will tell the Council. He doesn’t know how to do anything different. If you go with him, you have doomed your whole Order, just as you warned me. You must go with me.”
“I know,” she whispered.
The Knight froze. “What did you say, Padawan Varah?”
“I said I know,” she said more confidently. “For once, the Sith is right, Master Wokur. Your duty is to the Council. If I tell you what I know, then you’ll have no choice but to tell them. And if you do,” she looked miserable, “You’ll all die.”
I put a comforting hand on Varah’s shoulder. “You’ve made the right choice, Padawan. Now you have only one final necessary step to make. You know what must be done.”
She looked at me with confusion. “I don’t understand.”
Inexorably, I continued, ignoring the gaze of the Knight staring at us with the intensity of turbolaser blasts. “He knows the conspiracy exists. He knows to start at Ulicia and Etti IV and unspool the narrative from there. He already has enough information to go to the Council and report his findings. Whether you go with him or not will not stop him either way.”
She looked stricken. “No-“
“Think, Sola, think,” I urged, my attention now focused on feeding the rage of the Jedi Knight standing before us. “Think of the good of your Order, think of its very survival. Your Master does not understand and never will. You cannot stop him from going to the Council and ensuring its demise. You cannot, unless . . .”
“Unless what, Sith?” The Knight removed a lightsaber from his belt, holding it loosely but confidently as he strode towards me. “You’ve whispered lies into her ear long enough. Now, you die.”
“It is now or never, Sola.” I told her. With that, I shrugged my cloak from my shoulders and unsheathed my lightsaber pike from its hidden alcove in my cane. I placed my left hand behind my back as if mocking him as I cut through the air with my red blade with a flourish. It was time to do battle.
With a roar, the Jedi ignited his lightsaber and sent the green blade crashing down towards my head. He was an imposing figure, a few inches taller than me and certainly much broader. I brought up my blade and, knowing I would be unable to hold his blade using only one hand, I instead slashed to the right as I sidestepped to the left, sending his slice careening past me, to my right. With a grimace, he cut to his left, a weaker gesture that I was easily able to stop head-on and deflect it downwards. I spun away to my left, coming behind Varah, who still stood paralyzed by indecision.
“You are a strong fighter, Knight Wokur. But you lack a certain . . . subtlety.” I extended my right hand, sending my lightsaber spinning towards him with a brief push of telekinesis. He deflected it contemptuously.
“That was a mistake,” he gloated.
I plucked Varah’s lightsaber from her belt and ignited it, the green blade buzzing with defiance. “Sith weapons, Jedi weapons, what does the color of a blade matter? It is the heart of its user that makes the difference.”
Wokur scooped up my lightsaber pike and brandished it in his left hand. “Good to hear. Works for me.” He advanced towards me, lunging at me with the pike from far away. Instead of springing away, I spun inwards, past the blade, until the long hilt was at my right side, then slashed at his head with the blue lightsaber. He blocked it easily with his own lightsaber, sending Varah’s blade glancing back at me and skittering away. Tucking the dagger I had concealed in my left hand into my belt, I stealthily grabbed Wokur’s second lightsaber from his belt without him noticing. Wokur smiled at me, his lip curled. “You’re no duelist, Sith. You’re outmatched, plain and simple.”
He was right. Wokur was plainly a Jedi who had already seen numerous lightsaber battles with opponents far more dangerous than I. So far only his relative inexperience with my choice of weapon had saved me from a quick and clean death. I had already gone through two lightsabers, and the third wasn’t likely to help me any more. Wokur shifted the pike in his grip to hold it in his fist as if it were some giant dagger. He was a fast learner, it seemed, and I knew that his next attack had a high chance of killing me.
I backpedaled, using the opportunity to switch Wokur’s second lightsaber to my right hand and once more grab the dagger in my left. I finished my motion once again close to where Varah stood, seemingly lost in her own inner conflict, not even paying attention to the duel that raged near her. “Varah!” I hissed. She looked over at me, her expression a picture of the conflict within. I held up Wokur’s lightsaber, identical to her own, and thumbed the button, changing it to a less lethal beam that would knock out, rather than kill. Her eyes widened in comprehension as I shot a confident smile at her.
A third time, I spun away from Wokur, terminating my movement right in front of Varah. I extended the lightsaber to her. “Now’s our chance.”
Together we faced Wokur. “Traitor!” he growled. “You would choose Sith scum over me?”
“You don’t understand, Master,” she told him, a new hint of confidence in her voice. “I have to do this. Someday you’ll understand. But I have to stop you now.”
“I won’t fight you, Padawan. I wish to the Force I could after your idiocy today. But if you get in my way, I will retaliate.” With that, he charged at me full-tilt.
I knew I had no chance of meeting his blow. Instead, I swiftly stepped to my right as he came between me and Varah. I tutted softly, “Too slow yet again, Knight. That kind of carelessness will be your downfall someday.” He turned to face me with a determined grin, pike raised high to bisect me and pin me to the ground forever.
Then his head split open.
He crumpled to the ground, the grin still fading from his lips as his face hit the pavement. Behind him, Varah stood in complete shock, a bloody dagger held above her head.
“What . . . “ she stuttered, her eyes rising to the evil blade dripping with ichor, “What have I done?”
To be continued in Minions of Xendor! Episode II . . .
I, Senec Tinople, call the Sith for aid.
Yes, those same Sith whom I abandoned. The Sith from whom I disappeared without a word, stealing a fighter from the Academy hangar and disappearing into the galaxy. The Sith whose calls and communiques I resolutely avoided, blocked, and ignored.
Have I got your attention now? You surely must think I am mad. Why would I return to Korriban and subject myself to the judgment of the Dark Council, to the wrath of my own Master? She too knew nothing of why I disappeared, and I ignored her signals to return to Korriban as well. The Academy has not been my home for months now, and the respect and prestige I earned while in these halls must surely now be in doubt. Yet I return, not slinking back like a subdued vornksr to his master, but rather like a herald, with an urgent call for help, for the order of the Sith itself may be in jeopardy.
In these chronicles, I will tell all that has happened since I disappeared (or, at any rate, all that is relevant). It all began one Korriban night, a month after my adventures on Etti IV and my first training session with Darth Traya, a week after I joined the ranks of House Tenebris, as I entered Tenebris’ barracks after a long day of training . . .
Jedi Deception
I was as tired as a hunted womp rat as I entered Tenebris barracks. Every muscle ached, and as I bent to set down my pack, a fresh scar made me wince and bite back a curse. Grievance Vexx was a hard and merciless tutor, and my first training session with him had been exhausting. Very few beings my age would even think of sparring with a legendary Sith general, much less an aged Caamasi such as myself. As I straightened once again, I felt every year of my age multiply the pain of those scars, and this time, I could not hold back a curse. However, rather than using the Force to soothe the wounds, I momentarily focused on the pain, drawing it in, and letting the frustration and exhaustion burn like fire within me. Slowly, I was learning to abandon the tenets of the cursed species who had bred so much docility into me, and I was learning to survive on pain and struggle.
With a soft tone, my datapad chimed with an unusual message. This time, as I bent to retrieve it from my pack, I silently embraced the pain and internalized it. However, I quickly forgot my exhaustion as I frowned at the exceedingly strange details of the message’s delivery. It was an official Sith communique, sent directly from the desk of the Sith governor of a planet called Ulicia. The name was not familiar to me. Quickly, I searched its name in the Sith database. My brow furrowed further. Ulicia was a planet in the Corporate Sector. By all accounts, it was completely unexceptional, its only notable landmark being the headquarters of a tech company called Commex.
Distant alarm bells began to ring in my mind. Returning to the message, I scanned its contents with growing apprehension.
“To Apprentice Senec Tinople of the Sith. I have recently uncovered a conspiracy in the Corporate Sector. So have you. I have uncovered vital information proving that this conspiracy is far larger than our two encounters and may threaten your precious Order. If any preemptive action is taken, it may prompt the conspirators to launch their plan immediately and result in the fall of the Sith . . . and of the Jedi. Meet me on Farana tomorrow. Tell no one of this message or where you are going. If you bring anyone with you, I will know, and you will not find me on Farana. Once you reach the system, I will send you the meeting location.”
That was it. No signature, no explanation, nothing. Suspicion immediately grew in my mind. There was no way this was from the Sith governor. If it had been, there would have been no need for secrecy, and they certainly would have signed their name at the end. There was only one conclusion to be drawn, one I had already reached before even reading the message. Someone had uncovered a plot on Ulicia like the one on Etti IV. That meant that the Sith governor had been involved in some corrupt plot, and my mystery messenger had likely foiled that plot and, like me, ended up at the office of the Sith governor. How they had discovered my actions, however, were beyond me.
To abandon Korriban without telling anyone was unwise, to be sure. It risked the wrath of my Master, for one thing. And, of course, though I was sure answers would wait on Ulicia, I could not discount the possibility of a trap either. The bounty for Sith acolytes and apprentices was still active in the Corporate Sector after all. Whomever had lured the five dead acolytes to Etti IV could easily lure me to Ulicia with the promise of answers and a warning to tell no one, only for me to find a well-laid trap with no Sith to come rescue me. I would need to consider my next actions very carefully . . .
Farana roared into view as my ‘borrowed’ Sith fighter blasted out of hyperspace. I breathed a sigh of relief. It had been a tense night, and my sleep during hyperspace transit had been fitful at best. Stealing a fighter from the academy was no easy spin, and I was sure my departure had been noted by Dreshdae Spaceport Control. It was only a matter of time before the Sith put two and two together and realized who that stolen fighter had belonged to. Nevertheless, I put aside my worries. Pragmatism dictated that I would worry about such things when they caught up to me. In the meantime, I had a mysterious stranger to meet.
As if in answer to my thoughts, my datapad pinged. This time, it was an encrypted message on a local frequency. It contained instructions for a place to meet in Farana’s main city. As before, it was not signed. I resolved to put my fighter down in the wilds some ways outside the city and make my way in from there. Hopefully, it would make my trail harder to follow if the Sith did decide to pursue me.
Farana was a nondescript world; there was no other way to put it. It had fields, forests, plains, and unremarkable mountain ranges, and all the other middling charms of a temperate planet. Although the area immediately around Farana City was settled, I was able to find a small forest in which to enshroud my fighter. I grasped my cane firmly, slung my pack over my shoulder, and headed cross country towards the city, doing my best to travel unnoticed across field and road.
It was not long after my entrance into the city before I found the location where we were to meet. I was taken aback. For someone dealing in conspiracies and Sith apprentices, this mystery being was either incredibly arrogant or naive to choose an outdoor cafe as a place of meeting. The cafe was vacant, at least, save for a single cloaked figure, their back turned to me. They must be my contact. The streets themselves were empty, curiously so, and I stretched out with the Force to the buildings around me, searching for a hint of hostile intent, some sign of a trap ready to be sprung. But there was nothing, only the normal worries and joys of everyday citizens. As I drew level with the gate entry to the cafe, I withdrew my Force senses from my surroundings and instead focused them on the hooded figure sitting before me. I could not conceal my shock as their senses seemed to meet mine, as if they had turned and looked at me without moving. They, too, were Force-sensitive - and highly adept in the Force as well.
The being rose and spun to face me, her cloak billowing outwards as she did so. My shock grew, then turned to anticipation as I came face-to-face with her and saw the distinctive robes she wore beneath her brown cloak and the weapon that hung at her belt. It seems I had been summoned to Farana by a Jedi.
Slowly, I entered into the cafe, took off my cloak, and hung it around a seat. For a moment, we stood, watching each other silently. I tried to probe the Jedi’s mind to discover her intent, not willing to immediately be drawn into a confrontation. Though I had grown more adept with a blade thanks to the training of Darth Traya and Lord Vexx, I had made it a personal mission of mine to be able to handle any situation without igniting a lightsaber, without coming to rely on such a crude weapon when so many other means and methods were readily available. I expected resistance; however, her mind was remarkably pliant, seeming to almost invite me inside without a care.
Whether her open mind was a calculated ploy to convince me of her trustworthiness or a foolish oversight, it was clear that she was not presenting herself as a threat to me. She smiled blithely at me, lowering her hood to reveal light blue skin and a delicate, almost avian human face.
“Welcome, Senec Tinople. I have been looking forward to our meeting.”
I sneered as I drew closer, tapping my cane rhythmically, arriving directly in front of her. “I feel welcome indeed . . . Sola Varah. Thank you for inviting me in; it makes things so much easier.”
Her eyes widened. Suddenly, it was as if blast doors slid across her consciousness, shielding it from my view. I laughed scornfully. “Not much of a Jedi, are you, Varah? First you plan a secret meeting in a street cafe, then you fail to prepare even the most basic mental defense when going to meet with a Sith.” My gaze hardened, locking eyes with her. “Give it up. Who actually contacted me, and what have you done with them?”
“I did!” She protested, crossing her arms tightly. “Or, that is to say,” she turned towards the entrance of the building, “we did.”
I spun in that direction, fully expecting a complement of Jedi Knights to burst out the front door, cursing myself for my stupidity. The door opened, but instead of a swirl of robes and lightsabers, there was only a stiff metal clanking as a shiny supervisor droid emerged and approached us. I did not allow the Jedi to see my surprise, raising an eyebrow and turning back to observe her smug expression. “So that’s how you knew of my exploits on Etti IV.”
The droid offered a stiff bow. “Greetings, Senec Tinople. I am glad to see that you are well.”
“Evade,” I returned, no affection in my voice. “You’re not dead.”
“An astute observation, sir,” the EV-series droid responded, its voice heavy with sarcasm. “I do seem to have evaded death. Mistress Varah discovered me while sent on a mission to investigate the destruction of the Cybot Galactica facility. Somehow, she was able to reconstruct both my body and my mind from the fragmented pool of metal I had become. How she managed this is beyond me.”
I dismissed this observation with a wave of my feathered hand. “The how of that matter is irrelevant. What interests me is what happened to you on Ulicia. How you know that the two matters are connected. And what a Jedi could possibly want from a Sith.”
“The how of that matter is irrelevant as well,” Varah interjected, sweeping around the table to sit at one end and gesturing me towards the other seat. “As for your second question . . . ” she hesitated.
I cut her off, a wave of scorn rolling from me yet again. “Did you not hear me the first time, Jedi? Speaking of these things in open air is dangerously naive, especially if this conspiracy is as widespread as you claim. We will speak of the details in private. In the meantime, answer me this. Give me an answer that’s not to my satisfaction, and you will be lucky if I disappear, never to be seen by you again.” I tapped her chest with the tip of my cane. “Do not take my words lightly, Jedi. If you answer incorrectly, the consequences will be . . . dire.” I let the words hang in the air a moment. She offered no reaction, meeting my gaze with an obstinately blank stare. I continued with clear suspicion in my voice, “Why have you come to me instead of to your vaunted Order? Surely they would be eager to know of a ‘threat’ to their very existence. Even if I have previous experience with this secret organization, surely it would be better for you to keep the Sith out of this matter altogether.”
Again, she hesitated. “I . . . can’t.”
I sighed, preparing to unleash mind shards to forcibly gain entry to her mind again. Perhaps I would at least glean some useful information from her before I killed her.
She held up a hand. “Wait. I’ve already told you of my reasons not to contact the Jedi, when I bade you not to tell your own superiors.”
“You did not bid me to do anything,” I snapped back. “However,” I ceded reluctantly, “the advice is potentially sound. If a threat indeed exists, it would be just like the Jedi to go gallivanting after the threat and put their own foot in their mouth.”
“As if the Sith would do any better,” she retorted. “Why do you think I told you not to tell anyone? Tell any of your so-called ‘Lords,’ and you’d immediately have a continent of blood-thirsty Sith scrambling into the first sign of danger without a second thought. No, this matter is better dealt with discreetly. And while I wouldn’t exactly call bringing down Cybot’s cloud cutter subtle,” she shot a condescending look at me, “You’re the only choice I have for a partner in solving this.”
“I’m flattered.” I walked back over to the entrance of the cafe and retrieved my cloak, once again draping it over my shoulders. “Very well, Jedi, you’ve passed my first test. Come back to my ship, and we can discuss this further.”
“Your ship?” Varah scoffed. “You mean that rinky-dink little fighter you flew in on? As if that would be any more ‘private’ than talking right here. Do you see anyone listening?”
“No. And that’s exactly why we can’t talk here. The streets here are quiet.” I watched the empty streets with a frown. “Too quiet.”
Varah rolled her eyes, putting her own hood back up as well. “Fine. If it helps your little Sith ego, we can go back to your ship. Do they train you to be paranoid little freaks, or were you always like this?” She jerked her head towards the droid. “Come on, Evade. Let’s follow the bird.”
We walked down empty street after empty street, and with each new avenue, my unease grew more and more. The only way the streets were this bare was a government-mandated order. There were any number of reasons that could have been commanded, but what if-
“There you are.”
As one, Varah and I turned around, her hand delving into her cloak, my own posture tensing.
Before us stood what was unmistakably a Jedi Knight. His stance was wide-spread, like that of a trained duelist, his arms crossed, a deep scowl on his face. He wore no cloak, but instead wore the tight fitting robes of a Jedi, bolstered by armor in the style of the Jedi generals of the Clone Wars. Twin lightsabers hung on his belt, identical to Varah’s own.
Varah’s hand withdrew from her cloak as she recognized him, although her tenseness did not ease. If anything, it crescendoed as she removed her hood and attempted to compose herself. “Master! I can explain-“
“You will explain,” he interrupted brusquely, striding forward, “You will explain why you attempted to deceive me and knowingly conspired with a Sith behind my back. But you will do so before the Jedi Council. Right now, you will come with me.” His gaze moved from her to me, a bitter edge to his voice. “As for you, Sith, count yourself lucky that I have no business with you. Begone while I still have my patience.”
“Quite a pair of Jedi,” I observed evenly. “One too naive to guard her mind even slightly, and one with an unmistakable inner rage. You seem like an impressive fighter, Jedi. You would make a fine Sith.”
“You think your tired Sith bait is going to get a rise out of me, Apprentice? Count yourself lucky that I have no desire to fight with you and escape while you still can.”
I turned to Varah. “I see how it is now,” my eyes lingered on a single braid of wispy hair dangling at the side of her head, a detail I now noticed too late, “Padawan.” I returned my attention to the Knight, “Unfortunately, Jedi, I still have need of your apprentice. I will need to borrow her for a while. I do so hope you will not object.”
The Jedi advanced; I could practically hear his teeth grinding. “Oh, I object, all right. Final warning. Stand down.”
I gave a meaningful look to Varah. “Oh look. The gallivanting Jedi have arrived. I’m sure he won’t go off blabbing to the council about your discovery once you tell him.”
“Discovery?” The Knight scowled. “What discovery?”
“The one about a conspiracy, Jedi. One that threatens this Order’s very existence. Padawan Varah here withheld this information from you because she knew you would immediately tell your precious Council about it, and you would all spring into action without taking any moments to consider subtler methods.”
The Jedi looked even angrier, if that was possible. “You can’t keep secrets from me, Sola. You never could. You want to know how I found you here? I knew you were coming here the whole time. The Sith’s right. You never mastered shielding your mind. You never even tried to. When you came out of that Cybot skyscraper, I knew something was amiss instantly. That you’d seen something that shook you. But when you didn’t even mention it to me, I knew you were trying to hide something. So I bit my tongue and waited. And sure enough, you snuck off to Farana without my permission. I thought maybe you were on the trail of something and were trying to protect me. That’s why I cleared the streets for you. I was trying to make things easier.” His voice had raised to practically a yell. He stopped, took a breath, obviously making an effort to calm down, then continued more quietly with a bitter tone. “But no. Now I find you sent a message off to Korriban without my knowledge. And you’re here conspiring with a Sith. What happened to you, Sola? How could you do this?”
Varah faltered, stepped forward once, then stopped. “I-“
It was clear that she would surrender imminently if I did not intervene. I sensed an opportunity approaching, one far too full of promise to pass up. Reunited with Evade, I could continue my investigation alone, but the promise of a pliant Jedi Padawan . . .
I interjected. “So, then, Jedi Knight. What do you plan to do? She has made it plain that you cannot come to the Council with the information she has. Why do you think she tried to keep it from you? You cannot be trusted with it."
“Shut up, Sith,” the Jedi Knight ground out. “Sola, get over here. Now.”
Subtly, I fed off her fear and uncertainty, sending it in a feedback loop back to her to intensify her confusion and indecision, speaking to her in a low voice, “You know you cannot go with him. You know he will tell the Council. He doesn’t know how to do anything different. If you go with him, you have doomed your whole Order, just as you warned me. You must go with me.”
“I know,” she whispered.
The Knight froze. “What did you say, Padawan Varah?”
“I said I know,” she said more confidently. “For once, the Sith is right, Master Wokur. Your duty is to the Council. If I tell you what I know, then you’ll have no choice but to tell them. And if you do,” she looked miserable, “You’ll all die.”
I put a comforting hand on Varah’s shoulder. “You’ve made the right choice, Padawan. Now you have only one final necessary step to make. You know what must be done.”
She looked at me with confusion. “I don’t understand.”
Inexorably, I continued, ignoring the gaze of the Knight staring at us with the intensity of turbolaser blasts. “He knows the conspiracy exists. He knows to start at Ulicia and Etti IV and unspool the narrative from there. He already has enough information to go to the Council and report his findings. Whether you go with him or not will not stop him either way.”
She looked stricken. “No-“
“Think, Sola, think,” I urged, my attention now focused on feeding the rage of the Jedi Knight standing before us. “Think of the good of your Order, think of its very survival. Your Master does not understand and never will. You cannot stop him from going to the Council and ensuring its demise. You cannot, unless . . .”
“Unless what, Sith?” The Knight removed a lightsaber from his belt, holding it loosely but confidently as he strode towards me. “You’ve whispered lies into her ear long enough. Now, you die.”
“It is now or never, Sola.” I told her. With that, I shrugged my cloak from my shoulders and unsheathed my lightsaber pike from its hidden alcove in my cane. I placed my left hand behind my back as if mocking him as I cut through the air with my red blade with a flourish. It was time to do battle.
With a roar, the Jedi ignited his lightsaber and sent the green blade crashing down towards my head. He was an imposing figure, a few inches taller than me and certainly much broader. I brought up my blade and, knowing I would be unable to hold his blade using only one hand, I instead slashed to the right as I sidestepped to the left, sending his slice careening past me, to my right. With a grimace, he cut to his left, a weaker gesture that I was easily able to stop head-on and deflect it downwards. I spun away to my left, coming behind Varah, who still stood paralyzed by indecision.
“You are a strong fighter, Knight Wokur. But you lack a certain . . . subtlety.” I extended my right hand, sending my lightsaber spinning towards him with a brief push of telekinesis. He deflected it contemptuously.
“That was a mistake,” he gloated.
I plucked Varah’s lightsaber from her belt and ignited it, the green blade buzzing with defiance. “Sith weapons, Jedi weapons, what does the color of a blade matter? It is the heart of its user that makes the difference.”
Wokur scooped up my lightsaber pike and brandished it in his left hand. “Good to hear. Works for me.” He advanced towards me, lunging at me with the pike from far away. Instead of springing away, I spun inwards, past the blade, until the long hilt was at my right side, then slashed at his head with the blue lightsaber. He blocked it easily with his own lightsaber, sending Varah’s blade glancing back at me and skittering away. Tucking the dagger I had concealed in my left hand into my belt, I stealthily grabbed Wokur’s second lightsaber from his belt without him noticing. Wokur smiled at me, his lip curled. “You’re no duelist, Sith. You’re outmatched, plain and simple.”
He was right. Wokur was plainly a Jedi who had already seen numerous lightsaber battles with opponents far more dangerous than I. So far only his relative inexperience with my choice of weapon had saved me from a quick and clean death. I had already gone through two lightsabers, and the third wasn’t likely to help me any more. Wokur shifted the pike in his grip to hold it in his fist as if it were some giant dagger. He was a fast learner, it seemed, and I knew that his next attack had a high chance of killing me.
I backpedaled, using the opportunity to switch Wokur’s second lightsaber to my right hand and once more grab the dagger in my left. I finished my motion once again close to where Varah stood, seemingly lost in her own inner conflict, not even paying attention to the duel that raged near her. “Varah!” I hissed. She looked over at me, her expression a picture of the conflict within. I held up Wokur’s lightsaber, identical to her own, and thumbed the button, changing it to a less lethal beam that would knock out, rather than kill. Her eyes widened in comprehension as I shot a confident smile at her.
A third time, I spun away from Wokur, terminating my movement right in front of Varah. I extended the lightsaber to her. “Now’s our chance.”
Together we faced Wokur. “Traitor!” he growled. “You would choose Sith scum over me?”
“You don’t understand, Master,” she told him, a new hint of confidence in her voice. “I have to do this. Someday you’ll understand. But I have to stop you now.”
“I won’t fight you, Padawan. I wish to the Force I could after your idiocy today. But if you get in my way, I will retaliate.” With that, he charged at me full-tilt.
I knew I had no chance of meeting his blow. Instead, I swiftly stepped to my right as he came between me and Varah. I tutted softly, “Too slow yet again, Knight. That kind of carelessness will be your downfall someday.” He turned to face me with a determined grin, pike raised high to bisect me and pin me to the ground forever.
Then his head split open.
He crumpled to the ground, the grin still fading from his lips as his face hit the pavement. Behind him, Varah stood in complete shock, a bloody dagger held above her head.
“What . . . “ she stuttered, her eyes rising to the evil blade dripping with ichor, “What have I done?”
To be continued in Minions of Xendor! Episode II . . .