Star Wars: The Lost Jedi
Part II of the Prelude to Requiem
EPILOGUE
Pyxis
Two Weeks Earlier. . . .
Part II of the Prelude to Requiem
EPILOGUE
Pyxis
Two Weeks Earlier. . . .
The air was still on this cold winter’s night. A blanket of snow covered the grounds, yet no new flakes fell. The storm had passed, and now this mountain had grown quiet. The temple, newly built upon the cliffside, was magnificent. Even the darkness of night did little to obscure its beauty. And resting at the top of its greatest tower, stretching higher than the peak of the greatest mountain, was the Empress of the Sith.
It was warm in her chambers, especially beneath the covers of her bed. She slept soundly, despite the worries of war looming over her head like a blade waiting to fall. Despite the lack of ground gained over these past few months, she knew the Jedi were no match for the might of the Final Sith Order. They had been the ones to save the galaxy; now, it was theirs to inherit. The Jedi had only been allowed to survive because of the meager aid they provided against the forces of the True Sith. But they had grown too bold under the leadership of Kei Durron, and now they would be punished for it. A predator did not lose sleep because there was prey yet to be slain. And that was all the New Jedi Order would be in the end. Prey to be slaughtered if they did not come to heel.
Yet something stirred her from her slumber all the same. The air felt too warm now, like someone had lit the hearth on an already hot summer’s day. There had been no warning from her guards; somehow, even the Force had not relayed any sense of danger or threat. Perhaps because there was none.
That changed the longer she sat awake. The Force began to whisper, murmur, and finally, it spoke. The shadows were twisting into oblong shapes of eldritch make. The air grew even warmer, like Pyxis was growing too close to its sun. And from the shadows, the very space began to contort into the shape of a man. A silhouette until he stepped into what faint light lay here.
It was not possible. That was a face she had seen only once eleven years ago, on that fateful day when the True Sith arrived. But this was not her enemy. This was an ally. One that had given his life to save theirs. But in doing so, unknowingly, he had taken from her one of the only men she had ever cared for. These feelings and more, no doubt, swirled within her when she recognized him. It was Kain, Darth Kain. The child of Abeloth. Was this a dream? If so, it was the most real dream she had ever encountered. And that was saying something for a prophetess such as her.
"It is quite the feat to have slipped past the guards and divinations of an Empress, Star-Prince," Hesper said, her voice barely louder than a whisper yet still so loud within her hushed bedchamber. She sat upright, bringing the coverlet of her bed along with her, drawing it about her shoulders. A beam of moonlight fell upon this strange nighttime tableau from a high window.
His voice was somewhere between the rumble of a waking volcano and the crackle of hearthfire. "It has been a long time," he said. "And much has changed in my time away. The last I saw of you, you were falling from the heavens and preaching calamity only a few moments before it arrived. Now you're an Empress..." The fact didn't bother him in the slightest. Surprising. "You are certainly a better candidate than the traitors vying for the throne so long ago, names like Dreadwar and Volshe." Both names he said with disdain, the sting of their differing betrayals still fresh in the mind of the Dark Messiah.
"Let us put aside the soured names of long-gone betrayers," she said, twinkling opal eye holding steady on the form of Kain. "And I know this is not why you have appeared in my bedchamber at such an hour-- to gossip about my misguided forebears. What do you really want, Kain?"
His hands found the small of his back, and his eyes looked deep past the Sith Empress. He was drowning in a sea of his own thoughts, forcing himself to swim to the surface and answer her demand. After a few moments, he did.
“I am the last living descendant of the Celestials, the Architects, and all that mortalkind consider the gods of this universe. As such, it is by right of both birth and divinity that I am the Beloved King of the Stars. It is not just a fancy title, nor a misnomer. I will rule all the galaxy and, eventually, beyond.” He paused, studying the expression on her face. “But I do not intend for you to ever lose your position as Empress of the Sith. I do not want that throne. All I want is an end to this war that started during my absence, for the Federation, the Jedi, and the Sith to act as vassal kingdoms to my rule.”
This was an offer, she would realize. “You would not lose any power over the Final Sith Order, and I doubt I would ever have to oversee your decisions within your borders. You would act as you have for the past decade. That is the least you deserve for finishing what I started.”
Hesper's face was immutable, an unreadable placid mask. Even as Kain's fiery eyes searched her expression, her gaze did not falter, and the silence of the room was oppressive. She reached for the glass of water at her bedside and drank from it; when she set it down with a soft noise, she turned it thoughtfully and ran her thumb across its edge, wiping away the moisture left by her lips. She returned her hand beneath her coverlet and fixed her eyes on Kain again.
"I should kill you now," she said plainly, cocking her chin. "Not only for daring to enter my most private chamber unannounced in the dead of night, but also for these brazen and presumptuous words you are saying to me now."
Hesper inclined her head. "Prophecy is a fragile thing, Kain. I-- and you, for that matter-- know this fact better than anyone else in the galaxy. What was seemingly written in the stars eons ago, this glorious purpose you lay claim to, may no longer be true. Fate is mutable."
"You died." She let the words hang heavy in the air. "When you died, your destiny became void-of-course. What should have aligned didn't. But I was there, in the right place at the right time-- divine providence. You should know I reject the prophecy of your birthright, wholly and outright, and believe you do not understand, or in the very least do not acknowledge, the true nature of the galaxy we share." She sighed, flicking her eyes up and down Kain's shadowed form.
"But," she continued, "For all intents and purposes, it is very kind of you to offer me my rightful rule of the Sith-- and I am an opportunist, regardless. So, entreat me." She tossed her long, tangled hair back, and drew her cover tighter about her shoulders. "How do you propose to end this war?"
No hint of malice came over his face. In fact, the room did not even grow warmer than before. The man before her was not a raging inferno of emotion any longer. Something had tempered his flame.
"If I were to tell you, would it even change your mind?"
"You'll tell me anyway," Hesper said. "Because the fact remains that my participation is integral to your end goal. Our end goal, really. What I believe or don't believe is neither here nor there, at the end of it all. This is something we also both know; predestiny is entirely apathetic to our feelings and beliefs."
A smirk formed from the King's lips. “You wouldn't have to be a Prophetess to know that. Very well."
His form leaned against the wall as a sigh escaped him. "This cycle of violence between the Jedi and Sith has created an imbalance, one that the Force constantly tries to readjust, but to no avail. The Jedi defeat the Sith and reduce their numbers, then the Jedi grow complacent, and the Sith rise again, causing the Sith to eradicate the Jedi. Yet, somehow, it only takes a few survivors to overthrow the Sith, and the cycle begins anew. Only one can rise above the other, one powerful and the other weak. Neither allows the other equal power nor anything but the death of the other side. Until ten years ago..."
His eyes found the ceiling, as if he were watching a highlight reel of the past above their heads. "The Federation and Sith had grown equally weak, giving those from beyond their opportunity to strike. The galaxy barely survived their first assault. Now you fight once again, matching blow for blow from world to world.
"The realm of Dark Illathurion is not finished with you yet. I've seen it, Hesper. I bathed in the Pool of Knowledge and drank from the Font of Power. And they sense the weakness of this galaxy growing once more. You cannot hope to survive a second wave, not divided. If you and the Federation cannot see that we need one common leader, someone to lead the charge against the forces that would seek to destroy you all, then I will have returned for nothing. I will have to watch, helplessly, as you all are devoured. And I refuse to see that happen. Not again."
She folded her arms, waiting patiently for him to continue.
"Even if none of the galaxy understands, I must gather the leaders of the most powerful sectors and make peace. Compromises may be made, but is that really such a horrible price to pay? Because it's always the same. When you fire that first shot, no matter how right you feel, you have no idea who will die. You don't know whose children are going to scream and burn. How many hearts will be broken? How many lives will be shattered? How much blood will spill until everybody does what they always have to do from the beginning -- sit down and talk."
He took a breath.
"And then it'll be too late. You'll all die at the hands of those that lie beyond, and I won't be able to save you like I did last time. There won't be any grand display of destruction to give you the time to plan, to find a way. You'll die, and everyone you care about will follow you. I don't want that, even if you can't say the same for me."
Hesper was quiet for a moment-- contemplative. Then, she spoke.
"Alright," she said. "You're right-- we wouldn't survive a second wave. I will jo--”
Lightning flashed. Her two eyes closed, yet the third witnessed it all with abject horror. The man that now stood before her was sitting upon a mountain of ashes, looking on as a boy... or a creature... ravaged all life—a plague upon the galaxy, upon the universe. Trillions dying. Flesh melting away, revealing soft bone beneath. Minds rotting, turning to scarlet mush. And not just the people, the citizens of her Empire. But her, and her lineage. Rotted away. There would be no escape. She realized now who the creature was, and why the King of the Ashes looked on with such glee. It was his son.
She would quickly return to reality, the King of Ashes still standing before her.
The Force was warning her. This was not an offer of peace. Kain’s child possessed some horrific power of plague and damnation, and he wanted to unleash it upon those that would not kneel before their new Beloved King of the Stars. That meant her and all those that followed her.
A look of confusion appeared on Kain’s face; he was sensing her feelings. He knew that she knew.
A wave of telekinetic might exploded from the Empress of the Sith, annihilating part of the floor and wall where Kain once stood. Wood splintered and cracked, and stone shattered like glass. But the false king was no longer there. He’d simply evaporated into thin air like smoke. Perhaps he had never truly been there in the first place.
But that didn’t matter. Kain had returned, and he was not the heroic martyr everyone had made him out to be. He should’ve stayed dead.
But he hadn’t.
Denova
Present Day. . . .
Abandoned upon a rock of hatred and desiccation, the apprentices Sharkish’Ki and Mardinga found themselves left to walk among those they had ruined. None raised a hand against them, even as the fires died and the dead were carted into the streets. Children were now without fathers, husbands were without wives, and mothers were without their children. Their lives had been demolished in the wake of a war that was not theirs. And while their beliefs were vilified by the galaxy, they never intended to spread those beliefs beyond their little village. They were set in their ways. They had their gods. But now they had nothing. The obelisk of their beloved Yothon had been stolen. Their leaders had been murdered, or they had disappeared into the forests. Everything they had known, every comfort they had ever had, was gone.After some hours of mending their wounds and avoiding the surviving townsfolk, Mardinga and Sharkish’Ki both began to notice something odd. The Force was causing a small stone to vibrate in their pockets. Withdrawing the rocks reminded them of their purpose: communicators based on ancient Force techniques, with runes inscribed upon the gravel acting as the method of communication. A small application of energy allowed both to receive their messages, and both came from the same man.
Darth Vaer. And he was not pleased.
“Be thankful that the Empress did not wish to see you both burned at the stake by these simpletons,” he said. “I am having a droid arrive with a shuttle to get you both back to Sith space. Do not squander Her generosity; if you do, I’ll have the excuse I need to put you both in the dirt.”
Hastur
"You're right. There is another way. I swore my loyalty to you, and I intend to hold true to that. I will stand next to you through all that might come. Open me a portal to allow me to speak to my wife one last time. Let me say my peace and prepare her for the safety of my daughter. That is all I ask for now. I have more questions to ask later."
After hearing those words from his Cursed Champion and letting Samael say what he had to say, Kain gave Voidwalker a solemn nod.
“Two days,” he said. “Give me forty-eight hours, and I will have recovered in time to send you to her. You deserve one last chance to speak with your wife.”
I wish I had that.
Pyxis
Arach stood staring out her window blankly. She had just made it home hours ago. She had showered and dressed, and her mind kept playing the image of Draven being shot out of the enemy’s ship, slamming into Kolasi, and both disappearing into a fiery portal.
She was worried not just for her husband but for Kolasi as well. The monarch had been through a lot this week, and too much stress was bad for an unborn child.
She tilted her head up to watch the rapidly darkening sky. She had left Scarlett at the palace, wanting to decompress before she saw her daughter. She missed her terribly but knew the child was safe. She would see her in the morning.
Her thoughts returned to her husband. She hoped he was okay. He promised they would talk after Denova, but it had been days since. And there was nothing. She worried just how poorly Kain reacted to news of their failure. She knew Draven wasn’t dead, but that’s all she knew. She needed to learn more.
A fiery blaze erupted in the middle of the room as time and space tore open. The same sort of burning portal that had swallowed up Kolasi and Voidwalker, opening right in front of Arach. From the other side, a figure stepped out of the time-space rift. Her husband, Voidwalker. He appeared to her as he had always looked. There were no signs of battle or any of the events on Denova. No demon form, no stern look about him, just Voidwalker.
"Isa!" he gasped as he reached out and grabbed her, pulling his wife in and embracing her. Even though it had only been a few days since he'd last seen her on Denova, he felt as if he genuinely hadn't seen her in weeks. After a moment, he slightly pulled back, his hands gently placed on both sides of her head, and brought her face up to meet him.
“Draven!” Arach’s tone was filled with relief. She melted into her husband’s embrace. He’s alive and safe. Her golden eyes slid closed as she drew comfort from the embrace. All too soon, though, she felt him pull away. She realized something wasn't quite right as he brought her gaze up to meet his. Yes, Draven was happy to see her, but there was something more that made her alert. Tension and urgency seemed to build up around them. Her brow furrowed questioningly.
"I know you must have questions, and I promised you we'd talk, but I need for you to listen to me." A look of intensity jetted through his eyes. "The Jedi have the children, and that alone could bring war. But there's an even bigger threat, one that could be even worse than the True Sith. When I left to go meet with the Empress, it was a trap, and I was attacked. I was targeted specifically. That's why I never returned, and it's why…." His voice grew shaky as he tried to hide and push away his emotions. "It's why I cannot return home now."
Isa felt her stomach drop with worry and, yes, fear of losing the only man she’ll ever love. Her mind became jumbled with so many questions and things she wanted to say to convince him to stay, or at least allow her to fight by his side. They were stronger together, damnit!
His time was growing shorter as the portal struggled to remain open, its fiery presence starting to shrink close. "You have to start training Scarlett. Train her. She'll be strong in the Force; she is our daughter, after all." He smiled at her. The portal grew even smaller behind him. "You both need to be ready. This will be the last time you'll see me. I love you, Isa." He held her face as he leaned in and kissed her. All the passion and love he held for her, conveyed in one single kiss. She returned his kiss with the same passion and love he held for her.
After a moment, he pulled his head back and let her go, stepping back to the portal. "This is the only way I can keep you and Scarlett safe. Keep our daughter safe."
She tried to convey the words she couldn’t speak. It wasn’t enough. There wasn’t enough time. As Draven stepped through the shrinking portal, Isa managed to choke out, “Come home, soon! I love you!”
With a heavy breath, Voidwalker watched as his wife called out to him one last time. He wanted nothing more than to stay with her and Scarlett, but he had sworn his loyalty to Kain and to keep his family safe. That was what he intended to do. With tears building in his eyes and pain in his heart, he clung to the memory of the kiss they shared, knowing he would think upon it often.
The portal snapped shut, and she was alone once more. Isa realized her knees were shaking too much to bear her weight, and she slowly sank to the floor. Her mind whirled with anger, confusion, and some understanding. She understood that Draven felt he was protecting them from a threat he didn’t name. Who, or what, is he protecting us from? We fought the True Sith and Typhojem together! Why is this different? We could have hidden Scarlett and kept her safe. We could have fought this together.
Isa felt her anger begin to grow, until another thought struck her with fear. What if we both died. What would happen to Scarlett? Memories of her own childhood after the deaths of her parents flooded her mind. She shuddered at the thought of Scarlett potentially doing the same things she did herself to survive. She took a shuddering breath. I must, Draven. He wouldn’t do this for no reason. I’ll start Scarlett’s training. It’s time she knows the truth.
“We’ll be here when you come home, my love. Be safe.”
I hope one day she can forgive me. But I know this is the right thing to do.
Hyperspace
"You all should get some rest," said Master Sho Temm. "Including the boy. There are bunks in the back."
"I'll take him," Eva said. She walked past the pair of Jedi, making her way toward the cockpit. Apollo was sitting there. He smiled when he saw her, his eyes lighting up like firecrackers.
"Eva!" he cried out. "You're okay!"
She kneeled down and hugged her little brother with all the might she could muster. "So are you." She moved back, placing her hands on his little shoulders. "We're going to stay at the Jedi Temple for a while, okay? Just until things blow over."
"Are Geon and Hara okay?"
She pursed her lips. "They've passed on into the Force, Apollo. They're in a much better place than we are."
"They're with Mama?"
A tear found Eva's eye. "Yes, they are."
Hastur
For the first time in what felt like years, Kain was alone. His bedroom within the Citadel of Fire was filled to the brim with lush extravagance and luxury. Silk sheets draped around his bed, emblazoned with golden fire upon crimson. A stick of incense burned on his dresser, carved from molten obsidian. The people of Hastur were a proud race before their self-destructive war, and they wished to return to that pride by giving their new king a welcome of opulence and splendor.
But he wished for nothing more than his quaint little bedroom back on Vitae, with Abaddon at his side.
He sat on the edge of his bed, or well, his phantom did. He knew that he was still back on his mother’s world, holding back the tide of Dark Illathurion for as long as he possibly could. The rift had appeared days after Eva abandoned him, days after…
Abaddon entered the room. He had not even heard the doors open as she approached him. She possessed an ethereal beauty to her, a goddess of no compare. Her dark hair fell to her shoulders, and her violet eyes told a story of love and contentment. He wished that he could feel the same.
“What’s wrong, my love?” she asked, sitting beside him.
He leaned his head against her shoulder. “I’ve lost my mind.”
“What makes you say that?”
“All of this. Everything that’s happened since I returned. It’s like… like I was meant to stay gone. And now that I’m back, the universe is recoiling, trying to purge me from the system like a virus. But all I want….”
“You just want to help them. That’s all you’ve ever wanted, isn’t it?”
He chuckled. “All I ever really wanted was you.”
Her hand took hold of his, squeezing tightly. “I waited so long for you to come back to me.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. It’s not your fault.”
“If I’d just escaped with the others, if I didn’t have to go out there and try to be a hero, maybe I never would have died. Maybe we could have beaten them without it.”
“Darth Venomis was Nemesis’ best piece on the board. You took him and his thralls out of the game early. It threw off the entire invasion plan for the True Sith. It would’ve taken years for them to recover what you took from them. Don’t ever think that your sacrifice was for nothing.”
“I just wish I was there. For you. For Eva. For Apollo.”
“I do, too. But we take what we get, right? That’s what your father used to say.”
“I guess we do.”
A melody began to echo through his chambers, one of melancholy and heartache. It was a song he knew well. It was once a melody of love.
“It’s our song,” said Abaddon. “Will you dance with me?”
He smiled. “Always.”
The King and Queen of the Stars took hold of one another, making it to their feet and swirling about each other like twin nebulae. They swayed and moved as one. Their love would never die, not so long as Kain held on to the memory of her. And even if he knew, deep down, that this was a phantom no different than his own… even if he knew that she had died back on Vitae moments before he’d arrived… and even if he knew he had failed to save her life for the final time, he would never give up this dream. This was the only peace left in the galaxy. All of the family he had left.
Pandora entered his chambers, the doors opening for her with ease. She watched as he danced with himself, the illusion of his wife floating alongside him. The Hasturan Queen had no intentions of interrupting the Beloved King of the Stars. This was his way of grieving. And even if he held on to the lie for the rest of eternity, she would not rob him of his joy. It was not her place to. She would serve.
And so would the rest of the universe.
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