Darth Traya: A Fragile Alliance

[Beniboybling]

Added Chapter 16.

 

And that ends the last of the chapters I needed to rewrite, hopefully things will move faster from now on.

Edited November 21, 2014 by Beniboybling

[Aurbere]

Great chapter! Keep up the good work!

[Beniboybling]

XVII

The room would have been lightless, if not for the round viewport that let in the light of a distant nebula. A pair of silhouettes, overshadowed by its glow gazed outward as the stern of a Sith cruiser disappeared into cosmic smoke, the bright light of its engines winking out all at once.

 

“The Seer slips through the fingers of the Hand.”

 

“And the prison walls crumble.”

 

A hunk of floating debris drifted past the viewport, casting a brief shadow across the floor.

 

“The damage inflicted on the station can be repaired. But recovering the data erased from the mainframe may prove difficult. Without a single lead, it may be years before we discern her location again.”

 

“What of the hollow one?”

 

“No intervention will be necessary. His path is sealed. The Emperor has foreseen it.”

 

“Then we wait, for destiny to plot its course.”

 

* * *

 

“The subject is regaining consciousness, sir.” The medical droid chimed in a mirthful monotone.

 

The ‘sir’ in question flicked its burnished eye to stare at the droid.

 

“Master is err…” Duuklaf paused, searching for the right word “Solid, yes?”

 

“If you are asking as to whether her condition is stable, sir, the yes. She is solid.”

 

“Be silent, the both of you.” Came a weary voice.

 

“Master!” The Abyssin croaked. Traya pushed herself upright and slid her robed legs off the side of the sleeper, pulling the cowl of her hood over her eyes as she did.

 

“Where are we and how long have I been unconscious?”

 

“Almost two days master, droid said you were in a coma.”

 

A brief frown flickered across her face. “Then we will reach Obrai-Skai within a few hours.” She paused. “Assuming that is our set course.”

 

“Err, Duuklaf…”

 

“…Has paid no attention to his surroundings.” Traya finished, making a bee line for the medbay exit. Only to have her path blocked by the medical droid.

 

“Miss, you have not yet fully recovered…”

 

“Out of my way.” The droid clattered aside with a wave of her hand, then stormed out of the medbay muttering “fools” under her breath as she went.

 

* * *

 

It was night when they arrived. A cold breeze rolled over the snow-covered caps of the planet’s northern pole. Under the cloak of darkness a trio of sleek vessels slipped beneath the planet’s atmosphere. Sweeping low over the pale terrain and throwing up flurries of frozen vapour, the cool blue of their sublight engines glimmering through the powdery haze.

 

Ahead the snowdrift curled upward, iced rocks shaped liked jagged teeth jutted out of the frozen earth. The transports glided over the frozen earth before bursting into a valley of green. On oasis, deep within a desert of snow. For here deep beneath the soil lay a bubbling cauldron of lava, causing the ice to melt and the forest to grow. At the far end of the rift, a great edifice rose from the treetops. Once an ancient temple of forgotten empire, the tiered structure had been discovered by the Jedi and converted into a satellite academy for historians.

 

The transports came to a stop, hovering a few metres above the trees. A stream of dark apparitions begin to flood from the crafts, silently plummeting beneath the darkened canopies. Then the transports withdrew as noiselessly as they had arrived. They moved through the forest like a breeze, like apparitions they dashed through the undergrowth, past thick gnarled, mossy trunks and across twisted, vine wrapped branches, leaving only the soft rustling of the leaves in their wake.

 

A branch snapped, and something hit the ground.

 

Traya slid to halt, snapping her head back, then sighed inwardly as she saw Duuklaf stumbling to his feet.

 

“Get up, Duuklaf! You are a one hundred pound Abyssin, not a monkey lizard!”

 

“Yes master, sorry master…” but she was already moving deeper into the forest.

 

“Wait, master!”

 

They plunged deeper into the forest, the undergrowth swallowing them up. Branches swiped at their fleeting tread and the rustling foliage and ferns bit at their clothing. Then the forest peeled away to reveal a tiny clearing, the trees had retreated and only moss and vines intruded on the space. Dominating the glade was a great stone statue, an ancient relic of a forgotten race. Traya entered the clearing, her assassins followed around her, detaching from the shadows of treetops and trunks, while others remained on the edge, in the dark.

 

Traya stepped before the hulking monolith, it resembled the head of an ancient alien with a tall, long cranium and a pair of eye stalks – now tangled in vines – protruding from either side. At the foot of the statue the mouth lay agape, revealing a murky passage descending deep underground. Traya ran a hand over the grey stone, cracked with age and stained green by the jungle. A gruff snuffle drew her attention.

 

“What is it?” Duuklaf asked as he lumbered into the clearing.

 

“It is an entrance, the rest is not your concern.”

 

“It will take us to the temple?”

 

“That is correct, the passage is the entrance to a series of catacombs that lead to the sub levels of the academy. The Jedi are aware of existence of these tunnels, but they are unaware that we know of them also. We will take them by surprise. You will take two dozen assassins into the catacombs and provide a distraction, a clumsy brute such as yourself should have no trouble drawing attention.”

 

Duuklaf fumbled into state of what he grasped to be appropriate indignation.

 

“Duuklaf can be quiet if he wants!” He growled.

 

“Duuklaf will go into the catacombs as commanded and kill the Jedi before I kill him myself, and he will do it now.”

 

Duuklaf’s indignation melted away. “Yes, master.” He muttered, and disappeared into the ancient alien’s gaping maw. Two dozen assassins taking their cue and dashing in behind him.

 

Traya watched silently as the last assassin disappeared into the chasm. Then she angled her face to the rest of her forces, relaying a mental order to those who remained.

 

Then they were moving again. Drawing ever closer to the ancient academy. To her home.

 

XIX

Duuklaf grimaced in anticipation of the searing pain that would sever his hand from his wrist. But none came. He stared down at his sizzling forearm, intact and still ensnared by the whip, to find it coiled around his dark black vambrace.

 

“Your blades have been laced with cortosis-weave.” His master spoke as he measured the weight of his weapons in his hands. “And so can withstand the blows of a lightsaber. And your armour, though meagre, has been crafted from phrik alloy, and carries the same properties.” Duuklaf had begun practicing with his blades, slashing at air with a gleeful grin.

 

“Are you even listening?”

 

The Cathar was clearly surprised, and that made Duuklaf smile. Gathering his strength he tugged at the whip with his forearm, wrenching the Cathar of his feet and into his awaiting embrace. But his blade severed but a hair as the Jedi feel into a crouch then pounced aside, freeing his weapon with a deft flick. Then the whip cracked again, fast, too fast for Duuklaf to react, the cord sizzled against his clumsy block then cut deep into his arm. Duuklaf howled and recoiled as his flesh burned.

 

Then the whip cracked again, this time Duuklaf leapt back, letting pain empower his movement. The whip cracked again and again, jabbing and snapping at his blades as he hopped back and back. Then his foot struck a hunk of debris, he stumbled, the whip cracked again this time lunging for his face and violently struck him across the forehead, narrowly missing his eye. He cried out in pain, the force of the blow snapping his neck around and dragging his body with it before dropping it all on the ground.

 

Duuklaf needed to get to up, the pain in his arm flared up but didn’t care, the whip cracked again and Duuklaf darted to his feet just in time to ensnare it with his blades and thrust it aside. The Cathar stumbled and Duuklaf dashed forward, slicing low at his legs. A narrow miss, the Jedi leapt in the air then thrust down with his booted feet, slamming Duuklaf’s face into the ground.

 

He grunted in pain but growling clambered to his feet, as the Cathar, propelled by the momentum of the kick, slid to stop some metres away from him.

 

The whip cracked, moving with such speeds that it dissolved into a blur. Duuklaf did not dodge, he couldn’t, instead it struck him square in the chest, puncturing skin and throwing him to the ground. He did not get up. The Cathar’s black pupils dilated as he detected the Abyssin’s shallow breathing. Around them the conflict raged on, no one had taken notice of their battle. The Cathar stepped forward, his lightwhip slithered back into its hilt and he reattached it to his belt, detaching another hilt in its place. This one had an almost ceremonial design, with a pair of red tassels hanging from the pommel. The lightsaber flickered into life as he drew closer, a strong blue blade. The rise and fall of his chest was undeniable now, he was still alive. The Cathar gripped the blade in both hands, raised it above his head, and struck.

 

* * *

 

Traya felt a stab of pain in her chest, she gasped lowering her blade, a Jedi rushed at the opening but Traya thrust out with the force, throwing her against a wall. The pain was gone, but the source was undeniable.

 

Duuklaf.

 

In order to teach him quickly, she had forged a Force bond between herself and he, so her knowledge would flow through him like water. It was not difficult to establish, after all the creature admired her utterly, and she was the only companion he had ever really had. And now she felt the echoes of his pain.

 

A loud thump caught her attention and she spun about to face a pair of stone doors on the far side of the entrance hall. The door led to the sub-levels, and now a visible crack had been etched it its edifice.

 

The doors exploded, a cloud of smoke and rubble bursting outward. At the same time a body shot out of the dusty mist like a cannon, striking the floor before rolling to a stop at her feet. She looked down at the crumpled corpse, at its clawed hands and tattered furry hide, at the robes of a Jedi. Her eyes flicked back to peer into the smoke as a blurred silhouette began to emerge, the smoke had yet to fully clear, yet she already knew who it was.

 

“Ah. So you’re alive.”

 

Duuklaf gave an ugly grin, his face scarred by a pair of cauterised wounds and a deep hole perforated his chest. Traya glanced down at the body again, and was stunned by sudden recognition. This was no ordinary Jedi. The crippled Cathar that lay at her feet was Kentarr Kae Rho, a Jedi Weapons Master famous among the Order for his mastery of the lightwhip.

 

“You killed this Jedi?”

 

Duuklaf gave that ugly grin again, a glint of blood lust in his eye. He remembered the Cathar’s surprise when Duuklaf rolled aside as his blade fell, and struck the Jedi in stomach with a sharp kick. When he dropped his blade as Duuklaf jumped to his feet, striking him again a dozen times. He remembered how he had poured his hate and his rage into every strike, until the Jedi could barely stand. How he had gripped the Cathar by the throat, dragging him towards the stone doors and slamming him against them. And then, with his gnarled fist then splayed his fingers and struck the Jedi a final time, a well of bottled energy exploding square in his chest, shattering the Jedi, and then the stone doors behind him.

 

His grin widened. “Duuklaf tricked him,” he said “then crushed him.” And that was enough, Traya had read his mind already.

 

“Hurk!” Duuklaf convulsed abruptly, doubling over as if struck in the stomach. He spluttered and coughed, splattering the floor with blood. Traya made no move to assist him, but instead watched as he collapsed to the ground, then she stooped, and spread her hands over him.

 

“Yes, sleep little assassin.” She muttered, an invisible energy passing between them as she sealed his wounds. “You have played your part, now let us move the final pieces into place.”

 

The remaining assassins emerged from the sublevel and formed a wall around her. They kneeled in unison.

 

“Your bidding, my lord?”

 

“Are the Jedi dead.”

 

“Yes, my lord.” He spoke the truth, the sub-levels were silent. And the rest of the temple grew steadily quieter.

 

“Good. Take the Abyssin and return to the ship. I sense Jedi cruisers are already in orbit, you must leave the system and return to Malachor V immediately.”

 

“As you wish.”

 

One of the assassins picked up the Abyssin and slung him over his shoulder, and then they were gone. The silence grew heavy, and for a moment she did not move. The weight of what she was about to do rooting her to the spot.

 

Enough of this. She thought. They are like children, I have nothing to fear from them.

 

But she knew this was not the reason. Departing from the chamber she passed over the scattered debris and entered the sub-levels. Stepping over the bodies in the first chamber before disappearing into a passageway, more passageways followed. Each as empty and as quiet as the last, save for the bodies. The final passageway led to a small storage room, she slid the door open, cutting a white light into the blackness. She peered into the room littered with plastisteel crates, then found what she was looking for, a faint hum emitting from one of containers. She approached it quickly and with a wave of her hand the lid slid off. Revealing the dimly lit shape of Threecee. The droid craned its head upward, illuminating Traya’s face in blue. As always, he registered displeasure in her expression, but this time something else as well, it was sadness.

 

“Come droid, it’s time to meet some old friends.”

 

Traya lifted him out of the crate with the Force, lowering him to the floor. Then she emerged back into the halls, this time with a tiny mechanical hum following in her wake. For a while now she had sensed the presence of Jedi, a blocky white and red-hued transport had landed in the courtyard, several dozen Republic soldiers had disembarked, as well as three Jedi. In fact they had already entered the temple and at that very moment where gawking at the mangled corpse of Kentar Kae Rho.

 

That part made her smile.

 

But she had little time, rounding a corner she approached a door and placed a hand on the wall, her penetrating eyes revealing its contents. It was a communications room, with a holographic projector in the centre. And a Jedi – the only Jedi that had been allowed to live – cowering in a corner and clutching a jammed transceiver. The holoprojector was jammed as well, as the Padawan had no doubt discovered upon sealing himself in the room. For a single jammer, planted within the sub-levels, was scrambling all communications. It had kicked in as soon as the distress beacon had been sent, enough to warn the Jedi, but not enough to identify who had activated it.

 

Traya took a step back from the door, and began to change. It was subtle at first. A pale brown mist began to swirl about her feet, and then it rushed up the hem of her robes, before engulfing her entire body. Threecee’s optical sensors registered no change, but to any other eye she no longer appeared as a Darth Traya, Lord of the Sith, but an old Jedi, a scholar, with a rudimentary connection to the Force.

 

With a wave of her hand she deactivated the locks and the door slid open, the Padawan started and retreated deeper into the corner as she entered the room. But his features quickly softened as he took her in, and her radiating aura of calm light washed over him.

 

“Master Jedi! Master Jedi I –”

 

“It’s alright child.” She said calmly, as the Padawan staggered towards her. “You’re safe now.” Her words resonated with an invisible power, and tears in his eyes he succumbed, rushing into her outstretched arms.

 

“Master Jedi… I was so afraid.” She cradled him her arms, this frightened Padawan, this unsuspecting pawn of the Jedi. This boy, torn from his parents and brainwashed, like the rest, perhaps he could have been something more. But it was too late now.

 

“Don’t worry, it will all be over soon.”

 

The Padawan gasped, his face contorting into one of shock and pain, as Traya ignited her lightsaber into his chest, the crimson red blade erupting from his back.

 

“M-Master Je –”

 

She extinguished the blade, and then with a deft move flung the body full circle, out of the chamber to leave it crumpled in the hallway, and then she sealed the doors shut.

 

She waited for what seemed an age, for the next part of her plan to proceed. Then it came, a loud banging noise emanated from the other side of the door.

 

“Hello? Is anyone inside? This is Master Kavar of the Jedi Council.”

 

Finally.

 

For a moment she hesitated, then pressed a hand to her side and, overriding mental protests, shattered several ribs and bruised the flesh. She bit back a cry, then slumped against the holoprojector.

 

“Ahh, Master Kavar.” She gasped, not attempting to mask the pain. Then with a wave of her hand shade deactivated the emergency lock, and the blast doors slid open.

 

As the doors peeled away Kavar burst in, a trio of Republic soldiers clattered in after him and began to scour the room. He had changed little since she had last seen him, over two decades ago. His youth had faded yes, his skin had begun to wrinkle, and wisps of grey laced his hair. But he still bore those thin pursed lips, that thick muscled jaw, and that piercing blue stare. Yet he did not recognise her, for beneath the cowl of her robe lay a fog of confusion, a veil that parted mind from memory. Nobody would recognise her, not even him.

 

“Are you all right?”

 

“Yes, yes I’m fine. A minor injury, nothing more.” She allowed him to help her to the feet, the movement caused a jab of pain and she sagged a little, gripping his arm for support.

 

“Solider, inform the shuttle crew we’ve found a Jedi in need of medical attention.”

 

Then Kavar turned to look at her. “I recognise you…” he began. And Traya resisted the urge to flinch. “But I don’t believe we’ve met.”

 

She relaxed, quickly regaining composure. “I am Kreia, a historian here at the temple.” Her expression contorted into what she hope was an image of sudden fear and worry.

 

“But what of the other Jedi? Did any of them survive?”

 

The sombre expression that fell over Kavar’s face was the genuine article. “I’m afraid our searches have turned up nothing, you are the only one we’ve found alive.”

 

Good. She thought, while outwardly expressing a pang of sadness.

 

“All those lives lost. I did not expect the Sith to be so bold.” She lied, of course she did. Even if she had not masterminded the assault herself, even if she had still been a Jedi she would have realised that the Sith threat would not simply wither and die in the Outer Rim. The Republic was weak, and Jedi were weak, and so the Sith struck, as they always do.

 

“Indeed.” Kavar muttered. “You must have heard the reports, Jedi sanctuaries are being attacked across the galaxy, we’re being targeted.”

 

Is it any surprise? She thought, repressing the urge to spit the words in his face. The goals of the Sith never truly concerned the Republic. They were merely an obstacle, for if the Jedi fell the galaxy would follow.

 

But she had had enough of this. The ignorance of the Jedi had become apparent to her many years ago. It was no longer amusing, simply irritating. And so she let a muffled grunt escape her lips.

 

“Don’t overexert yourself, you need rest.”

 

“So it would seem.”

 

“We should get you back to the Jedi Temple immediately.”

 

“The Jedi Temple, yes.”

XX

Coruscant. It had been almost a decade since she had last set foot of this world, nothing had changed. The same glistening cityscape, the same golden skyline, burning just as bright as it always had. In the last couple of decades the galaxy had been through two crippling wars, hundreds of Jedi had abandoned the Order, the Republic had been left crippled and now a new invisible threat whittled away at what little remained. And yet here, on Coruscant, enclosed with the folds of the galactic core, the sun rose on an unchanged world.

 

The transport swooped low, plunging into the ecumenopolis. They passed by proud steel towers bathed in sunlight, and busy traffic lanes alive with floating repulsorcraft. They cast shadows on the towers, sliding across the windows like fat slugs. She could almost smell it, the stench. An invisible smog that engulfed the entire planet, it was steamy vapour wafting from florescent glasses of liquor at the cantinas, the silky, smoky substance that rose from the stage at the opera houses, the atmosphere that blared from the latest holoadventure at the theatres. It was in the restaurants too, and the casinos, and the luxury spas, the shopping districts, the public parks and even the holographic zoos and emporiums.

 

It was everywhere. Apathy.

 

Emerging from a cluster of skyscrapers the Jedi Temple came into view. The cradle of it all. The beating heart, the bastion to which the people of the Republic looked for safety and reassurance, knowledge that the galaxy was in good hands. But if was all a façade. Before the Jedi Civil War, before the Mandalorian Wars, the Temple had teemed with thousands of Jedi. But war had taken its toll, countless lives had been lost during the Mandalorian Wars, before Revan split the Order in two and pit them against one another, which only brought more and more Jedi to their deaths. And so thousands had become but a hundred, and here she sensed no more than fifty of that number. The Jedi Temple was barren, a pale imitation of what it once was, and so she would begin the hunt, and the façade would come crashing down.

 

“Beautiful isn’t it?” Kavar spoke as they gazed out of the viewports. “I remember when I first arrived at the Temple, as a youngling, so full of hope. It was a time of peace. The future seemed so bright back then, but now it seems as if this war will never end.”

 

It never would have begun if you had taken action. Traya thought to herself. But stifled it, and allowed Kreia, reserved Jedi historian, to resurface.

 

“Have faith, Master Kavar. All wars must come to an end, and when this conflict is finally over, the galaxy will know peace.”

 

"You're right, we cannot lose hope."

 

Kavar turned to the window as the transport descended toward the Temple landing pad. As they drew closer she noticed that a cluster of tiny robed figures had gathered on the platform.

 

More Jedi, wonderful.

 

The transport landed with a soft hiss and Master Kavar rose from his chair, with her wounds healed Traya was able to disembark without assistance, the transport doors swung open and the robed figures moved to greet them. Niceties were exchanged, condolences offered and a few cursory glances sent Traya's way. Traya allowed her mind to wander as the banality dragged on, then at last they began to discuss matters of interest.

 

"The Council is eager to speak with you. As well as Master Kreia."

 

"The Council wishes to speak with me?" She feigned surprise.

 

"Yes." He nodded. "They are eager to hear your account of the attack on Obrai-Skai."

 

"I see. Then let us hurry.” The Jedi obliged and they started towards the Temple. Like everything else on the planet it had remained unchanged. The wide stone walkway they walked was just as smooth and as polished, and the statues that stood watch on either side, glistening just as brightly in the sunlight. How many times had she walked these stones, how many years ago? When she passed the Jedi Trials and became a Jedi Knight, Traya had left Obrai-Skai and returned to the Temple. Her master had remained, to tutor others, and continue his research. But they never remained apart for long, he would always visit, and here she would wait for him. She had walked these stones countless times, with her master, discussing their research and swapping stories. She had always thought him more a colleague than a master.

 

And then there had been her Padawans, each one had been different. Some had been shy, lacking in confidence, others foolhardy and rash, but they all shared that thirst for knowledge, and eventually, a disillusion with the Jedi Order. But now they were all gone.

 

Traya had not realised she had come to a stop.

 

"Kreia? Are you all right?" It was Kavar, the rest of the Jedi stood apart, sharing nonplussed expressions.

 

Control. I cannot lose my nerve now, I haven't even made it to the entrance.

 

But it was so hard. So many memories, good memories, happy memories. She wanted to feel them again, but despite what her heart told her, she knew the Jedi could only bring her pain.

 

"Yes, yes I'm fine. I'm sorry I… I was just thinking about my students, the ones I lost."

 

She felt Kavar’s hand rest on her shoulder, and despite everything she could not help but take comfort in it. "I know how you must feel, I lost many of my own during the Mandalorian Wars, and the war that followed. But they are one with the Force now, as are your students, they will not be forgotten."

 

The words stung, though he did not intend it. They would be remembered, yes, as failures.

 

She brushed past him. "Come, let us not keep the Council waiting."

 

The pillars seemed to whisper as the entered the main entrance hall, the balconies overflowed with forgotten memories. But there was no more time for reminiscing, no place for it. Nostalgia was a cursed thing, for as long as we cling to the past, we can never truly move forward.

 

As they passed through the temple's chambers and passageways the Jedi with accompanying them bid their farewells one by one until only Kavar and Traya remained, standing before the doors to the turbolift that would lead to the council chamber.

 

"Are you sure your ready for this? The Council is patient, they will wait."

 

Patience, yes. The Jedi Council's sole virtue. They would wait for ever if they had their way.

 

"It's alright, the time for waiting has passed. Now is the time for action."

 

Kavar frowned. "Yes but –” he began, but stopped himself. "Your right, too many lives have been lost for as to wait any longer." And so the turbolift doors swung open and they stepped into the automated chamber, it sealed shut behind them, and the platform began to ascend.

 

The doors swung open on the High Council chamber. Twelve high backed chairs arranged in a circle. Yet only five were occupied, Master Lamar, Master Vash, Master Zez-Kai Ell, Master Tokare and Atris. The rest remained vacant. The shadow of an Order led by the shadow of a Council, a fitting state for their final days.

 

They stepped in the center of the chamber. "Masters." Kavar began. "This is Jedi Master Kreia, a historian from the Obrai-Skai academy, and the sole survivor I spoke of." They gave a brief bow, then moved to take his own seat. The gaze of half a dozen masters fell on her, she steeled her mind as they tried to probe her carefully constructed facade. She concentrated intensely, at times allowing the wall to recede, and at other times it would stand firm. She allowed them to see what they wanted to see rise to the surface, and what they could never know recede into darkness. As the examination subsided, she studied their faces. She could not be sure what they had seen, but they seemed content with their findings, for Vrook began the proceedings.

 

"We won't keep you long, Master Kreia. We merely wish to ask a few questions about what happened on Obrai-Skai."

 

"Ask, and I will answer."

 

"Very well. The attack, you are sure that it was committed by the Sith?"

 

No, the native fauna merely managed to acquire some lightsabers. Of course it was the Sith. They wage war with the Republic at the edges of the galaxy, and yet here within your council chamber you are content to believe they are no longer a threat. Fools.

 

She cooled her anger, making sure not to let it show on her face, nor the surface of her mind.

 

"I am sure of it, some of them wielded lightsabers fitted with red synth-crystals. And I could feel the taint of the dark side on them."

 

Vrook's brow furrowed. "If this is true, then the other attacks must have been conducted by the Sith as well. Making this the fourth of their attacks in the past few weeks. As you are no doubt already aware, the academies on Socorro, Alpheridies and H'Roath have all been attacked. But so far you are the only survivor."

 

“You mean they were all killed?”

 

“Yes, I’m afraid so.”

 

Good, then my assassins have been thorough.

 

"And that's not all." Kavar interrupted. "Across the galaxy Jedi out on missions and even on the front have suddenly gone silent, and disappeared without a trace. We fear the worst."

 

She could sense the change. The previously calm atmosphere of the chamber had begun to eddy with trepidation and fear, now was the time, to plant the seed.

 

"And what of the Jedi Temple, could it be in danger of attack?"

 

"Surely the Sith would not be so bold as to strike at the Temple itself." It was Atris, they turned to acknowledge her. Traya had been avoiding her stare this entire time, and only now did she turn to look. Beneath her veil her eyes grew wide, Atris was a proud and austere as ever, but through the Force she was different. In her she saw something that had not been there before, a fracture, a web of cracks, with her at the center. Traya probed deeper, feeling out the fissures, searching for the source, and the destination.

 

Ah. Her eyes grew wider still.

 

The image was blurred, but unmistakable. In the fracture, in Atris, this proud Jedi Librarian, she was the downfall of the Jedi. But how to break it? How to shatter the fragments and bring the Jedi crashing down? There may be another way, such fractures reveal only potential, never an eventuality. Yet it would be unwise to ignore it.

 

But for now, the Council was waiting.

 

"If they are hunting Jedi, which seems their intent, they may try. And the Republic may be unable to defend us."

 

"But it would be unwise to act hastily." Zez-Kai Ell spoke, as if anticipating where the trail of thought was headed. "It may be the intention of the Sith to draw us out."

 

Not so easily baited, hmm? We shall see.

 

Then the diminutive Master Vandar cleared his throat. "Master Ell is correct. We must learn more of this threat we face, before action is taken." His small grey eyes flicked to look at her. "Is there anything more you can tell us about the attack? Anything that might help us understand what we are dealing with? Could any of them have been Dark Jedi?"

 

"I am not sure, not all of them wielded lightsabers."

 

"They were not all Sith?"

 

"No, they all dressed in the garb of the Sith, but most of them did not carry lightsabers. But they were fast, and skilled. Too skilled not to be touched by the Force."

 

"Hmmm... anything else?"

 

"Yes, they were something... wrong, about them."

 

"Wrong?" Tokare raised an eyebrow.

 

"It was as if, they were not there, like an absence in the Force."

 

A sudden tension fell over the Council.

 

"Are you sure?" Vrook spoke. "An absence you say? In the Force?" The colour seemed to have drained from his skin.

 

"Yes, is there something wrong."

 

"No, no." The colour seemed to return to his face. "It is just, this is most troubling." Vrook paused, deep in thought. And she watched as the other Council members exchanged grave looks, what were they thinking?

 

She tried to read their minds, but they were like opaque spheres, sealing away all the secrets contained within. With a little effort, she may have been able to shatter them, but not without drawing attention. So instead she let their thoughts wash over her, attuned herself to their brain waves. She allowed herself to drift amongst their thoughts unnoticed, snatching at scraps of mental material as she tried to form an image. The picture came into hazy focus and she realised, they were all thinking the same thing.

XXI

“We must meditate on this.” Vrook said, and the other council members nodded in agreement.

 

“But we must also learn more.” Vrook continued.

 

An opportunity.

 

“Perhaps” she began, “I might be allowed to access the Jedi Archives? There may be something there that can tell us more about these… absences.”

 

“Yes, I believe that would be wise.”

 

“But Vrook!” Atris exclaimed with ill-masked surprise. She checked herself quickly. “Surely such a delicate issue –”

 

“Should be dealt with by she who has witnessed the threat first hand.” Zez-Kai Ell interrupted. “She possesses insight that we do not, I see no reason why we should not trust her on this matter.”

 

Traya scrutinised Zez-Kai Ell carefully, he was hiding something. They all were. Some secret they were all elicit in but not eager to share. But their minds had become Mandalorian iron, they were actively hiding their thoughts, especially Atris.

 

“Very well.” She said reluctantly.

 

“Good.” Vrook continued. “You may leave us now, Master Kreia. We’ve arranged to have someone escort you to your new living quarters, they are waiting outside. From there you are free to visit the Archives when Atris is available.”

 

“Thank you, masters.” She bowed, and departed the chamber. The doors slid shut behind her and the atmosphere instantly changed.

 

“You should not have allowed her access to the Archives.” Atris began. “There are some thing best kept secret from the rest of the Order.”

 

“Now is not the time for secrets, Atris.” The voice belonged to Lonna Vash. “Our numbers have dwindled, the Council is half of what it once was, at this time we cannot afford to create division. And besides, we have nothing to fear, if she discovers the truth about her no harm can come from it.”

 

“And you can be sure of that? What the Jedi we exiled carried with her was the taint of the dark side, and these… absences, they are of the dark side as well. Such knowledge should not be so freely given.”

 

“She is a Jedi Master” Vrook interrupted. “What makes you think she can’t be trusted with –”

 

“I felt something.” She cut him off. “When she looked at me I felt something, a disturbance in the Force.”

 

“A disturbance? You believe she may be a threat?”

 

“I do not know. She may be a Jedi but that does not mean she cannot bring harm to our Order, all actions have unintended consequences.”

 

“Then we shall watch her carefully.”

 

* * *

 

His voice reached her ears before she saw him, the droid that is, the voice of the young man with a tuft of brown hair and a braid running the length of his neck kneeling beside Threecee came later, as the doors to the turbolift swung open.

 

“…And then he throws out his hands and takes out a whole dozen Mandalorians, and the others don’t even try to fight him, they just drop their weapons and surrender. And that little droid, is how my master took down a platoon of supercommandos single handily.”

 

“Ah, you must be the one they sent to escort me to my chambers. I hope I’m not interrupting.”

 

The Padawan stood up with a start as Traya stepped out of the lift.

 

“Oh, I, um…” He bowed hastily. “M-Master Jedi, my name is Mendax Todoro, I’m Master Kavar’s Padawan, I’m here to show you to your chambers.”

 

“I am aware.”

 

“Yes, of course, um… is this your droid?”

 

“It is, and you seem to be getting along.”

 

A nervous laugh. “Uh we were just exchanging stories, this droid must be pretty great to have along.”

 

She chuckled. “Yes, he’s very dear to me.” She moved to rub his metal head affectionately. “I’ve always had a soft spot for droids.” Threecee uttered a quizzical sound but she drowned it out with another chuckle. And, kneeling down in front of him so her head was level with his photoreceptor she said with a saccharine smile. “What stories?”

 

The droid trembled a little.

 

“Oh, he was telling me about some of your adventures.” The Padawan interrupted. “Some crazy stuff about a space station in a nebula, and oh that time you went to Korriban…”

 

With a deft move of the hand she triggered something in Threecee’s head, for the droid spasmed and rattled, uttering a series of increasingly drowsy decibels.

 

Traya feigned surprise. “Oh dear, his motivators are acting up again. This won’t take a minute.”

 

“Oh, err, I’ll just be here.”

 

As the Padawan backed away Traya leant in close to the droids audio receivers and said in the faintest of whispers.

 

“You do not say a word about anything that has happened since we left the Order. Nothing.”

 

With another deft flick the droid seemed to come back to life, its head doing a three-sixty degree spin as it wriggled on its motorised wheels, Traya got to her feet.

 

“That’s better. Now, you were going to show me to my chambers?”

 

“Yeah, this way.”

 

Despite his timid demeanour, the boy was in fact quite chatty, in fact he wouldn’t stop talking. She employed a number of strategies in her attempt to make his silent. Responding to his questions in as little words as possible seemed to have no effect, for he was content to keep the conversation going all by himself. Nor did changing the subject alleviate the ear ache, as he always managed to bring the topic make to smashball, or his push-feather prowess, or another of his master’s adventures. The reprieve could not come sooner, as they finally arrived at her quarters.

 

“Wait, what is this?” She had come to a sudden halt before the chamber door. It was no different from the rest that lined the corridor, accept that each had a unique crest.

 

And this one, this one was hers.

 

Her crest. An eye shaped symbol with a pair of tear drops on either side, encircled in a ring. These were her chambers.

 

“Is, something wrong?”

 

“No… it’s, it’s nothing. The crest looked familiar, but I must be mistaken.”

 

“Well it might. A lot of these chambers used to belong to former Jedi who went to fight in the Mandalorian Wars. And that one…” He peered at the crest more closely. “I think that one belonged to Arren Kae. The one who was exiled, for teaching Revan.”

 

“You knew her?”

 

“Yes, well, I never met her. But my master talked about her a lot. But she’s dead now, she died in the Battle of Malachor V.”

 

No, the Jedi you knew died long before that.

 

“But why do their crests remain? Does the Council not consider them a disgrace to the Order?”

 

“I – I don’t know why. Well, I don’t think the Council hate them for what they did. Jedi aren’t supposed to hate. So maybe, maybe they thought one day they’d come back.”

 

“A foolish hope.” Traya muttered under her breath, and without another word to the Padawan boy she waved the doors open and stepped inside, Threecee following after.

 

The doors closed behind them, and she felt the Padawan’s confusion slowly ebbing away as he departed down the corridor. She flicked on the lights and looked about her former quarters, it was just as she remembered it. The walls were the same metallic grey, littered with compartments, cupboards were she would store her robes, drawers were she would keep her books, though were would so often end up on floor. Indeed, carpeted in soft cream, it looked strangely bare. There was an armchair fitted with a red back and seat, rarely used, for she would spend most of her time knelt over her work on the floor. There was a round meditation stool, which she used far more often. And nested in an alcove a large mattress with a plain bedspread, sat next to a window that overlooked the glittering city. How often she had stared at it, how often she had watched the dying light of the sun fade. She brushed past the meditation stool, and instead collapsed in the armchair, overcome by a sudden mental exhaustion.

 

As her muscles relaxed and her eyelids slid shut, she felt a pale presence wash over her. It tugged at the corners of her mind, faintly at first, and then her reality was torn away.

 

“Why have you brought me here, to this place?

 

“Because you have lost your way, the way of the Jedi.”

 

“I am no Jedi.”

 

“Perhaps, but you are not Sith either.”

 

“I am what I must be, and I must stay his course.”

 

“Beet reet dweet?” Threecee’s mechanised bleeting broke her from her trance. She opened her eyes and looked upon her chambers, as if she had been somewhere else. And with old hands she rubbed her temples.

 

“Just, a dream.” She muttered, then rose from the chair.

 

“Remain here droid, I have work to do.”

 

Edited December 24, 2014 by Beniboybling

[Beniboybling]

Added Chapter 17, use of roman numerals becoming increasingly difficult.

[Aurbere]

Aw, poor Duuklaf.

[Beniboybling]

Added Chapter 18.

[Aurbere]

Don't do it Kavar!

 

Great work, as always.

[Beniboybling]

Thanks.

 

Added Chapter 20.

[Aurbere]

Internal uses of Force Lecture are only slightly less enjoyable than the real thing.

 

Great work again! I'm loving the interactions between Traya and the Jedi.

[Beniboybling]

Internal uses of Force Lecture are only slightly less enjoyable than the real thing.

 

Great work again! I'm loving the interactions between Traya and the Jedi.

Have no fear, the real thing is still to come.

 

Added Chapter 21, and Happy Life Day everyone!

[Beniboybling]

XXI

It felt all too familiar, her, being here, in the Jedi Archives, bent over a flickering orange terminal. She has spent decades in exile, trying to forget, and yet now she was back again, and the memories had come back too.

 

In truth she had forgotten nothing, every corridor and every shelf was familiar to her. Even the keys beneath her fingers were like old friends, and her digits danced across the holographic squares with practiced ease. She remembered the first time she had visited the Archives, as a mere youngling. The shelves looked so much bigger back then, the name ‘pillar of knowledge’ so much more apt. So many secrets she had thought, so much knowledge to be uncovered. Decades would pass and the illusion would fade, as she soon came to realise that the Jedi had only scratched the surface, that they had never tried to pierce the ice, for fear of what they might find.

 

Nothing had changed. Scouring the main index catalogues she had already inputted her keyword of choice into the console on the Council’s instructions. Force anomalies. It garnered little results, a basic understanding of dark side nexuses, various references to Sever Force techniques and there effects, and a cautionary tale from one Master Wairai concerning the dangerous possibilities of causing and encountering such anomalies, filled with the usual Jedi rhetoric, but little else. But this was good. She had not come seeking answers, she merely wished to see how much they knew. And they knew little.

 

“There is no ignorance, there is knowledge.” Traya muttered under her breath. Ignorance, with it comes fear, confusion, disbelief. It would serve her purposes well, if they were aware of the magnitude of the threat the faced, of what they were capable of, they would run, run and hide where they could never be found.

 

But there was something else, the records had been consulted by various Jedi of whose names she recognised, some seemingly conducting research projects as they consulted the same entries several times in succession, others would appear but once and then vanish altogether, and others still would make edits or additions. A patternless blur of names and dates. Except in once place. In the year 21091 9:24, three months after the Battle of Malachor V, the same records were consulted but days apart by several members of the Jedi Council. Master Kavar, Vrook, Atris, and Zez-Kai Ell.

 

What had they been looking for, what had prompted them to consult the Archives? Consult the same record, within the space of a few weeks? A fleeting possibility entered her mind and without thinking she inputted the name, an instance later an image appeared on the screen, and a date. The same image she had seen in the minds of the Jedi Council just moments ago, and the date of her exile, just days before they had consulted the records.

 

“What is your interest in that one?”

 

Atris, the Keeper of the Archives, emerged from the stacks. Traya had sensed her presence, but she did not expect this.

 

“Master Atris.” She pushed away from the table, inclining her head and gaze to take the Jedi in. The expression on her face confirmed what Traya had felt, suspicion. “I was just searching the index for information on Force anomalies as the Council requested.” It was only now that she realised how foolish she had been, Atris must have been monitoring her progress from the beginning, from her desk she had access to both the entirety of the Archives and all the computer terminals, a position she had long envied.

 

But she was accustomed to having the Chief Librarian breathing down her neck. Atris had always kept tight control over her Archives. The Hawk-Bat. Wasn’t that what they used to call her? Or was that just her master? She couldn’t recall.

 

“Do you know her? That Jedi?”

 

The question she had been dreading, perhaps if she feigned ignorance Atris would not press.

 

“No, I don’t think so.”

 

But Atris did not seem prepared to relent. The Hawk-Bat had her prey in its sights, and taking a step forward she prepared to swoop.

 

“Yet you know her name.” It was not a question, the cold, steely blue of her unwavering gaze said as much. She had watched many Jedi fall victim to that stare, and now it was her turn.

 

But then she remembered.

 

“I found it, in one of the records, the one Malachor V I believe.” She could have left it at that, already she sensed Atris’ suspicions beginning to subside. But that thirst for knowledge bubble upward as it always did. “It says she was the only Jedi who survived the battle without falling to the dark side. How is that?”

 

“It is not your concern?”

 

So they do know something.

 

“But if it could assist in the investigation…”

 

“The Council would have seen it fit to share it with you.” She interrupted. “All the information you require is within the Jedi Archives. Do with it the best you can, and report your findings to the Council, those were your instructions, Master Kreia.”

 

“It is not like the Council to keep secrets.” Traya stifled a chuckle, at the very least playing the ignorant Jedi was entertaining. She sensed Atris was disarmed by this statement, as if she realised the compromising position she had placed the Council’s reputation in. But Traya was not interested in pushing the subject, she could see it would bear no fruit. Not yet. Instead she decided it was nigh time she pierced this crack in the Jedi’s defence.

 

“But I won’t press the matter.” She felt Atris’ unease give way to relief, before quickly reverting to indignation at how she had allowed herself to be so easily played.

 

“If not the records, then perhaps we may find something in the Holocron Vaults? I’m afraid my findings among the stacks have been scarce to say the least.”

 

“Only members of the Jedi Council are allowed access into the vaults.”

 

Traya repressed a sigh, though her stringent obedient to the rules were to be expected.

 

“But as a member of the Council yourself, surely you could permit me entry? With your supervision of course, we could conduct a search together.”

 

Atris paused, “That seems… reasonable. Come, this way.”

 

A pair of thick set blast doors slid apart as they entered the Holocron Vaults. The vault was shaped like a miniature version of the Archives themselves, a small hallway lined with rows of shelves on either side, each holding a set of glowing holocrons of different shapes and sizes, each affixed with a metal plaque stencilled with a brief description. Atris had brought a datapad with her and now she activated it and tapped some inputs onto the screen.

 

“We can cross-reference the titles of these holocrons with information from the Archive database, each holocron has its own entry which will help narrow our search.”

 

But Traya was already crossing the threshold, Atris’ nose wrinkled and she stepped in after her. Traya had never been here before, few Jedi had. On several occasions she had been given a holocron for study, but there were always restrictions, even within the holocrons themselves. To have unrestricted access to the Holocron Vaults, to all the deep repositories of knowledge that lined these shelves, gathered over centuries… what secrets they must hold. What knowledge she had yet to learn. Atris was not worthy.

 

They began to move from shelf to shelf, consulting the datapad for the most relevant holocrons and questioning their gatekeepers one by one as to each Traya would report her experiences. But it became increasingly clear that the knowledge they sought, on wounds in the Force, were not to be found here. Further proof of how little the Jedi knew.

 

And an opportunity.

 

As the futility of their efforts grew increasingly clear, Traya chose to divert her attention to an obsidian set of blast doors at the rear of the chamber, framed in black stone, like a stain on the light brown walls that surrounded it.

 

“Is that, the Black Vault?” She asked.

 

Atris looked up from her datapad to follow Traya’s gaze, then looked at Traya. “Indeed. A repository for Sith artefacts and holocrons. And as you can imagine, it is strictly off-limits.”

 

Traya was aware, and was also aware that even members of the Jedi High Council were barred entry. Only if the Council were in full consensus could anyone Jedi access the Black Vault, and even then never for a prolonged period of time, and only under the supervision of the Jedi Temple Guard. Such was the extent of the Jedi Order’s fear of the dark side.

 

She had felt its inky thrum emanating from within ever since they had entered the chamber, though she suspected every artefact, and perhaps even the vault itself, was contained within Force suffused fields that prevented the taint of the dark side from corrupting the Temple.

 

“If this vault is a depository of such knowledge…” she began. “And this anomaly is of the dark side as it appears, then perhaps the answers we seek are within there.”

 

“You would suggest we enter the Black Vault?”

 

“You do not think it wise?”

 

That didn’t need an answer, she could feel it, the temptation, to open the chamber and look inside. A thirst for knowledge not unlike her own, but something more, a zealot determination to destroy the Sith, whatever the cost. Yet she knew the Council would refuse.

 

“You know how to open it, don’t you?”

 

“Yes.” She replied, slowly, as the tendrils of the Traya’s influence began to enter her mind.

 

“And you want to open it, don’t you?” Traya’s presence had faded away now, as she made herself very small, projecting a voice in Atris’ mind. Not her voice, but Atris’ own.

 

“I…I” She felt the Jedi attempt to resist, to come back to her senses. And so she quickly withdrew, she had done enough for now.

 

“I should consult the Council first.”

 

“Yes, of course.” Traya responded. “When will they next convene?”

 

“Masters!” The same Jedi Padawan, Master Kavar’s Padawan, called to them from the entrance to the Holocron Chamber, as if some invisible force field prevented him from entry.

 

“What is it, Padawan Todoro?” Atris replied.

 

“Apologies for the interruption, masters. But an emergency Council meeting has been called.”

XXII

It was rare for the Council to call an emergency meeting, and as they rushed toward the situation room Traya puzzled over what could have prompted the summoning. She could fathom only two possibilities, either important news from the ongoing skirmishes in the Outer Rim, or news on the new Sith threat. The fact that they had requested her presence implied the latter, yet any move made by her forces that could alert the Jedi would of course be already known to her, unless…

 

Unless they have discovered my identity.

 

Impossible. Her preparations had been meticulous. Months of planning to ensure the Jedi would suspect nothing. She had dispatched Threecee on a lengthy expedition, one that had taken him across seven different systems so that he might infiltrate the Jedi Temple and implant forged records of her Jedi identity into the Archives. Is it possible he could have left some trace? No. Along with fleets and soldiers Traya had inherited intelligence from Revan’s Empire as well, a vast organisation in the shadows closely linked with the late Sith Empire’s assassination branch, it was in disarray when she first made contact, but resources had been salvaged, enough to transport Threecee in and out of the Jedi Archives without the possibility of detection, the plan had been fool proof, even to him. Nor was it possible they could have seen through her disguise, a disguise that had been perfected over decades, she had absolute faith in it.

 

The situation room was a circular chamber with a large holoprojector in the centre that glowed a soft blue. The rest of the Council had already assembled as they entered.

 

“What has happened? Is it the Sith?” Atris said has she approached the projector.

 

“Yes,” Vrook began. “Master Kavar has just received a report from the Republic fleet that rescued Master Kreia from Obroa-Skai.”

 

Traya let out a silent sigh of relief as her alias was spoken. Her identity remained undiscovered.

 

Vrook nodded in Kavar’s direction, who tapped a series of buttons on the holoprojector’s rim, a virtual cluster of stars appeared in front of them.

 

“One hour ago, Admiral Cede of the Fifth Fleet received a report that a seemingly abandoned warship had been discovered at this location.” He tapped at the buttons again and the holoprojector zoomed in on a smaller set of stars linked together by faint lines, a small blinking dot indicated the point Kavar was referring to. “On a disused route only six parasecs away from the Obroa system where the attack took place.”

 

“And has the ship been identified?” Atris asked, with a hint of impatience.

 

“Yes.” Another image was projected alongside the map, it was the undeniable form of a Sith warship. “Interdictor-class, the mainstay of the Sith fleet. Cede has since had the vessel boarded and searched, all his men discovered were corpses.”

 

Traya suppressed her surprise. It was the warship that delivered her to Obroa-Skai, it had to be. She stared at the image intently, the ship was listing to one side yet she could see no external damage to the engines that could cause such a tilt. The navigation systems, they must have been unmanned when the ship exited from hyperspace, and allowed to drift without the vessel being stabilised. Flicking back to the astrogation chart confirmed her suspicions, the ship had been discovered at an intersection between hyperlanes, where the cruiser would have had to drop out of hyperspace to join the new route to continue to its destination. Except when it did, the crew was already dead. Indeed unless the vessel had been intercepted just before making the jump to hyperspace, whatever had killed all the crew had to have come from the inside.

 

And then there was Duuklaf, he was supposed to be aboard that warship. But if he was among the dead, she would have felt him perish, she was sure of it.

 

“So there was no life on board, at all?” She asked.

 

“None, only the bodies of the crew and what we assume to be the same Sith that attacked the Obroa-Skai academy. They match the description in your report.” He paused. “We were hoping that you might have found something in the Archives…”

 

“I’m afraid not. We searched the Holocron Vaults but…”

 

Atris’ voice seemed to fade away as Traya’s mind become transfixed on the holoprojections before her. There was no mistaking that it was the very same warship that had taken her to Obroa-Skai, and the assassins on board had been ordered to smuggle themselves on cargo vessels and freighters en route to Coruscant. But now they were all dead, and as a result her mission had been placed in jeopardy. She would have to take a risk if she were to secure an escape route, and a window of opportunity had already presented itself.

 

“Masters,” she interrupted. “If I may excuse myself for a moment, I’m feeling a little faint.”

 

“Ah, of course Master Kreia.” Kavar replied.

 

“Thank you, Masters.” She feigned short breath and left the room with a slight stagger. As the doors slid shut behind her the demeanour dropped and after feeling for the presence of nearby Jedi she hurried to the end of the corridor where Threecee almost bumped right into her.

 

“Careful, droid!” She snapped in a harsh whisper.

 

“Beep dweet dwoo.”

 

“We have little time to waste, the signal scrambler, do you have it?”

 

Threecee chirped an affirmative.

 

“Good. Now listen carefully, I want you to enter the situation room at the end of this corridor, the Jedi Council are in conference there…”

 

* * *

 

“The Black Vault? And it was Master Kreia who suggested we access it?”

 

“Yes, and she advised that I seek the authority of the Council to enter. And while the recommendation was prudent, I –”

 

“You worry that she may have had ulterior motives” Vrook interrupted. “And that allowing her access to this vault may lead to whatever this disturbance you felt forewarned you of, am I correct?”

 

“Yes, I merely feel –”

 

Vrook held up a hand. “What you feel is not necessarily the truth, Atris. We should not be so quick to make assumptions.”

 

“But –”

 

“Master Vrook is right.” Lonna Vash interrupted. “We have little reason to suspect Kreia of ill intentions.”

 

Atris repressed a scowl. Lonna Vash. She had opposed Atris’ appointment onto the Jedi Council from the beginning. “Too volatile” she had said. And since then the woman seemed intent to undermine her at every turn. But of course, Atris was exaggerating. She was volatile.

 

“Hmm, but neither should we be so quick to dismiss her feelings.” The Council turned to look at Master Tokare, while Vrook was considered the source of authority on the Council, Vandar had always been seen as the source of wisdom, and a firm believer in the tenets of the Unifying Force, of visions and portents of the future.

 

“True,” Vrook responded. “But regardless of our feelings on the matter, I think I speak for the Council as a whole when I say that we cannot authorise access to the Black Vault.”

 

Atris frowned at Vrook as the other Jedi nodded in agreement.

 

“But masters, if we only refused Master Kreia access then surely –”

 

“Even to member of the Jedi Council such as yourself,” Vrook interrupted “the holocrons within that Vault remain extremely dangerous. There is no telling what could happen if we were to attempt to activate one”.

 

“I agree” Zez-Kai Ell spoke, “if we were not wary of the consequences, those holocrons would have been destroyed long ago. Activating is just too dangerous, even for you.”

 

Atris’ frown deepened, but before she could respond, Threecee rattled into the room, interrupting the proceedings with a series of low chirps, a Jedi stumbling in behind him.

 

Kavar raised an eyebrow. “Is that Kreia’s droid?”

 

“Apologies, masters.” The Jedi blurted out. “I told the droid that the Council was in session but –”

 

“It’s all right.” Kavar drew a little closer. “Threecee isn’t it? Is there something –” Kavar stopped abruptly as the chamber suddenly fell into total darkness.

 

“What? What’s going on?”

 

“The whir of the astromech’s servomotors was blocked out by the confusion as Threecee rattled over to the holoterminal and, extending an appendage from his burnished frame, attached a the sensor scrambler to its underside.”

 

The lights came back on, and Threecee had already returned to where he previously was.

 

“Must have been a power outage or something.” Kavar turned to the Padawan still standing at the door. “Padawan, go to the maintenance level and see what the issue is.”

 

“Of course, right away Master Kavar.”

 

“And you droid, what was it you – ” but Threecee had already begun to explain how his master had returned to her chambers for rest, and how she apologised for not been able to remain for the entire meeting, as instructed.

 

“Tell her not to worry. Atris was able to tell us all we needed about their findings in the Archives.”

 

* * *

 

“Is it done?”

 

“Deet deet.”

 

“Very good. Then we shall proceed. Contact him.”

 

The situation room she had had Threecee plant a signal scrambler in was at the centre of the Temple’s communications complex, through which all transmissions, external and internal, where channelled. As long as it remained activated, any transmission entering of exiting the Temple would be untraceable. And with the Council distracted, her activities were guaranteed to go unnoticed.

 

Traya turned to face the droid and waited. Then his head shifted to one side so that his holoprojector was angled towards her, then her chamber was illuminated by the flickering image of her apprentice, Darth Nihilus.

 

“You summoned me, master?

 

“Yes, Lord Nihilus. There was been a change of plans. The assassins intended for Coruscant were unable to complete their mission.”

 

“They are dead?”

 

“That is none of your concern.”

 

She paused, noticing that the temperature in the room had dropped by several degrees. Had his presence caused it? Over hologram? Was that even possible? She cast the thought from her mind, focusing on retaining composure. She was not afraid.

 

“But their mission must be completed, gather together one hundred assassins from the Academy, and dispatch them to Coruscant immediately. I will transmit the briefing to you. See that it is done Lord Nihilus, this mission cannot fail.”

 

“I will not disappoint you, master.” He hesitated. “You have other orders for me?”

 

Traya paused again, had he sensed her thoughts, or was she merely that transparent? “Yes, my infiltration of the Jedi Temple has been successful, but I sense the Jedi do not fully understand the threat we pose. I require, a demonstration.”

 

“Of what kind?”

 

“Of planetary proportions, Lord Nihilus. You must consume a planet.”

XXIII

He wanted to tell her that she asked the impossible. But he stopped himself, because it wasn’t true. He had done the impossible on Malachor V, and he would do it again, and become even stronger than before.

 

And yet…

 

“How, master?”

 

“How? You already know how. A planet is no different to any other vehicle for the Living Force. The only difference is the size, and it matters not.”

 

Just like the size of the Ravager had meant nothing to him. He could do it, he knew he could. And perhaps then his hunger would be sated.

 

“I understand, master. Which planet is our target?”

 

A holomap appeared in her place on the projector. It was a map she had shown him before, a map of all the worlds in the galaxy that were strong in the Force that they planned on targeting. Did she wish him, eventually, to consume them all? One of the worlds was highlighted in a blood red, a stain that condemned it to destruction.

 

“You must act quickly, Lord Nihilus. I cannot keep my presence here hidden forever.”

 

“I will not fail, master.” And then he was gone, and the air around her seemed to exhale.

 

* * *

 

Nihilus rose to his feet as a figure entered his private chamber.

 

“What did she want?” Sion snarled.

 

“It does not concern you.”

 

Sion’s scowl deepened. “Is her business on Coruscant complete? Have the Jedi been flushed out?”

 

“Not yet.”

 

“Then it is not too late, we can still seize power.”

 

“No.” Nihilus turned. “We need her.”

 

“Need her? She merely holds us back, I languished in this prison for too long, and you even longer. And when we are finally given the chance to strike at the Jedi, she reigns us in.”

 

“You lack patience, Sion. When the Jedi are flushed from their temple, we will destroy them.”

 

“And remain under her thumb. Attack at her command. We do not need her to destroy the Jedi, once they have been flushed from their Temple we will have no further use for her, and it is then that we shall destroy her. It is the way of the Sith, for she has nothing left to give.”

 

“She may have nothing left to give you. But only because you have no desire to learn. I do. And I am not finished with her yet.”

 

He did not wait for a reply, his phantom form departing the chamber and leaving Sion alone.

 

* * *

 

For a moment Traya pondered over her communication with Nihilus, and what she had ordered him to do. This was more than just a mission. The magnitude of the act alone demonstrated as much. This was a beginning. The enactment of her final plan. She had not expected it to come so soon, but the Jedi had forced her hand. The map she had shared with her apprentice was more than a mere record of locations strong in the Force, it was an intricate web, tied to the very fractures of the galaxy. This planet he would consume would create an echo, and this echo would reverberate with other echoes, so that all the galaxy, all those touched by the Force, would be able to hear it, and they would be deafened, or die.

 

“Master Kreia?” The voice came from the door to her chamber. It was Kavar.

 

“You may enter.” The door slid open and she stepped forward to greet him.

 

“Master Kavar, to what do I owe the pleasure?”

 

“I just wanted to check that you’re all right, you left the situation room quite suddenly.”

 

“Thank you, Kavar. I’m feeling much better, I don’t believe I had fully recovered from the incident on Obrao-Skai.”

 

“Of course, I can only imagine the trauma you must have gone through, but we cannot dwell on the losses of the past.”

 

Jedi, always feeling the need to remind you of their precious Code.

 

Indeed, she had been told too many times to “be mindful of your feelings” to care.

 

“Of course your right, I mustn’t dwell on it.” She gestured towards the doorway. “Shall we walk? I expect it will do me some good.”

 

“It would be my pleasure.” Traya gestured for the droid to remain behind and left the chamber with Kavar.

 

“Was their anything I missed from the briefing?”

 

“Nothing important. Atris relayed your findings in the Jedi Archives, it’s a shame you were able to uncover so little. I’m also afraid the suggestion you made that we access the Black Vault was refused, it is simply too dangerous.”

 

Traya repressed a smile, she had expected nothing less.

 

“Ah, that is unfortunate, but I respect the wisdom of the Council. However I fear knowledge will be our only weapon against this new threat.” They rounded a corner, emerging into a larger hallway, light streaming in through windows overlooking the Temple courtyard.

 

“Perhaps,” Kavar began “the bodies recovered from the Sith warship we discovered might provide the answers we seek.”

 

“The bodies? They’re bringing them here?”

 

“Yes, of course you must have missed that from the briefing. I requested some of the bodies to be brought back to the Temple for study. Including the body of an Abyssin.”

 

“I see.”

 

So, he was on board. I must get to him before the Jedi do, if he is alive they cannot be allowed to interrogate him.

 

* * *

 

A day passed and it had become obvious to Traya that she was being watched, she was not sure when it began, perhaps the moment she had arrived, or perhaps since her request to open the Black Vault, she was not sure. But someone, or rather several people, where following her, they would rotate seemingly at random but they were always there. Not in eyesight, but close enough she presumed to sense her presence, and so track her movements. And it was equally obvious who had ordered her surveillance, for she had quickly come to realise that they were all members of the Librarian’s Assembly.

 

Under Atris, practically the secret police.

 

This was an unwelcome, but altogether not unavoidable problem, for example none could suspect her of dubious activity as she strode across one of the Temple’s mezzanines only to pause to look out a window, having noticed an arrival at the Temple platform. Grey clouds have gathered above the Temple and it had begun to rain. And she watched as row of floating metal containers, escorted by a group of Jedi, drifted across the landing platform and disappeared inside the Temple walls. It was of course, no mere coincidence that she had been present to witness their arrival, but her Jedi onlookers were not to know that.

 

Receding from the window she began to move down the empty passageway at as fast a pace she could muster with attracting suspicion. She seen emerged onto of the upper balconies of the Great Hall and began to proceed along it, watching all the while as the procession entered the Temple. At this distance she could make out the faces of several members of the Jedi Council, but that was not her immediate concern, instead she reached out to probe the contents of each container as she walked. All corpses, aside from one. In that she sensed a faint flicker of life, it was Duuklaf, she was sure of it.

 

It he was simply unconscious the Jedi would have sensed it as well as soon as they came close to the container, but it was obvious they had not. It had to be a hibernation trance. She had already reached the conclusion that isolating him in the medical centre would be impossible, not with the presence of Jedi Council members. Yet she could not risk them discovering that he was alive, and she had to find out what had happened. She would need an alternate plan.

 

Perhaps if I could someone gives escape my stalkers I could attempt to approach the bodies unseen. Then I could commune with Duuklaf’s mind. Awake him from his trance and search his memories, and then before the Jedi could react –

 

She came to a stop, in her distracted state she had not realised a presence had drawn close, not any of her stalkers but something different, and familiar…

 

“Master Kreia!” The voice came from behind her and she spun around to face it.

 

It was Kavar’s Padawan. Again.

 

This is not good.

 

“Ah, Mendax.” She responded, attempting to mask her irritation. “Is there something you need?”

 

“Yes, I mean, well not me but Master Atris, she wishes to speak with you.”

 

Atris? What could she want?

 

“I’m afraid –” she paused. “I thought you were Kavar’s Padawan?”

 

“Yes, well.” He began. “Atris doesn’t have a Padawan and I’m one of the few Padawan’s left here at the Temple so…”

 

They turned you into an errand boy. Wonderful. I don’t have time for this.

 

“I understand. Inform Atris that I will meet with her shortly, currently I have another matter that I must attend to.”

 

Traya turned to leave but Mendax quickly piped up again.

 

“She wishes to speak with you, immediately, Master.”

 

Immediately?

 

She could feel Duuklaf’s presence moving further and further way, she was running out of time. But before she could devise a strategy to escape the boy’s comlink started to beep loudly, and as he took belt he noticed it was flashing red.

 

“What is it?”

 

“It, the Temple’s been placed on high alert! Wait let me contact my master…” Moments later Kavar’s voice spluttered from the comlink.

 

“Mendax, do you read me?” He breathing sounded heavy.

 

“Yes ma –”

 

“There’s been an incident.” He interrupted. “One of the bodies we recovered from the Sith cruiser wasn’t dead, whatever it is it managed to escape, you need to…”

 

Just then a low growl caught there attention, then an erratic scuffling, and moments later a green blur burst onto the mezzanine and charged straight at them. It was on all fours, its sharpened teeth bared. She could feel his thoughts, all fury, a blood red haze.

 

Duuklaf!

 

“Master, it’s here!” The boy shouted into his comlink, reaching for his lightsaber and igniting a blue blade. But he didn’t stand a chance, Duuklaf’s training may yet be incomplete but the skill and power he possessed was enough to threaten even Jedi Masters.

 

She had to intervene.

 

Reaching out with the Force she gripped hold of the boy and threw him out of Duuklaf’s path, in the process slamming him against the wall and knocking him unconscious.

 

Duuklaf hesitated and growled low as his quarry was thrust away, instead turning his attention to Traya, he did not appear to recognise her, for he growled again and charged. But against a Sith Lord he was no match, Traya extended a hand and unleashed bolts of purple lightning, they struck him in mid-flight as he pounced, the force of the attack launching his smoking body across the walkway to land in a limp heap on the floor.

 

She approached carefully, the boy was unconcious, but she could sense that her stalkers were closing in quickly, within moments they were emerge from the corridor but metres away from her. Responding without hesitation she reached out with the Force to grasp at arch above the corridor entrance, and then with a violent tug she brought it crashing down, filling the archway with rubble. It would buy her some time, however brief.

 

She turned her attention back to Duuklaf, he was still conscious, and breathing heavily, she could feel his bloodlust fading, instead replaced with pain, shock… and fear. And now with the red haze lifted he recognised the figure of Traya as she stood over him.

 

“Master!” He croaked.

 

Yes. She could see it clearly now, fear. But why? She did not have time to probe his thoughts instead with an empty black stare she tore the answers from his mind. He cried out in pain and her vision became flooded with images, she saw her assassins being cut down, one by one torn apart by a shadow. And then she realised, that shadow was him.

XXIV

“Master I –” his words were cut short as she gripped his throat with the Force and lifted him of his feet, he flailed and spluttered helplessly.

 

“You killed them. You killed the assassins. You let the Jedi discover the warship. Why? What did you hope to gain?”

 

“D-Duuklaf can explain!” he croaked. Traya released her grip and he collapsed knees panting heavily.

 

“They… they were going to take Duuklaf back, take him back to Malachor V, to the voices, the screaming. Duuklaf couldn’t let them… couldn’t let them. So Duuklaf killed them. Then the Jedi came… not part of the plan… Duuklaf was going to escape, run away.”

 

“Run away?”

 

“Yes, yes, it was… the only way. Only way to stop Duuklaf going back. Couldn’t go back, wouldn’t go back…”

 

Traya watched as the creature muttered to itself at her feet. Had she truly been so blind to its suffering? No, she knew, she knew all along. But the nature of the Sith demanded she ignore it, and yet still she had allowed sentiment to cloud her judgement. The weight of Malachor was too heavy for him to endure, but she was not prepared to turn him into an empty thrall like the others. It was true, however clumsy and stupid, however erratic and out of control, a part of her wished the creature’s personality to remain. She had surrounded herself with darkness, monsters, husks. He and the droid where the only sparks of light that remained.

 

And because of her weakness, he had become a liability. Such things have consequences. She could sense the Jedi getting close, they had but seconds left, and there was only one thing left to do.

 

As the Jedi rounded the corner Traya knelt down before him, and drew her weapon from the folds of her robe.

 

She paused. “I’m sorry Duuklaf.”

 

Her thumb slipped to the activation stud and she –

 

Stopped.

 

Time appeared to slow. The Jedi should have rounded the corner by now, but they hadn’t. Before her Duuklaf was still at a statue, on his knees, her lightsaber pointing at his chest, his solitary amber eye, glassy and staring. But that was not all, a hand rested on her shoulder, she looked down, the other had placed itself upon the hilt of her blade. She felt a familiar presence.

 

Master?

 

Then the presence was gone, the hand gone.

 

“Master?”

 

It was Duuklaf, time was speeding up again. She could see the flutter of a Jedi’s robe emerge from around the corner. One final split second passed.

 

She pressed the stud. It flashed emerald green. His eye grew wider, and then he slumped to the ground. Dead? No. At the last moment Traya had altered the angle of her blade by but an inch and severed an artery instead. Already he had fallen into unconsciousness as his body rapidly worked to stop the bleeding and repair the damage.

 

Live, Duuklaf. And see that I do not regret it.

 

“You killed him.” It was Kavar, Zez-Kai Ell, Vrook and two other Jedi following close behind.

 

“No, he’s not dead. I thought you’d want him alive for interrogation.”

 

“Yes of – Mendax!” At the sight of his Padawan crumpled on the floor he rushed to his side.

 

“Is he alright?” Zez-Kai Ell asked.

 

“Yes, just unconscious.” Turning his head he barked at the two other Jedi. “Get a medical team up here immediately! Tell them we have one unconscious and one critically injured.”

 

The Jedi nodded and were gone.

 

Vrook approached the body of the Abyssin and rolled him over. “We were lucky there weren’t any casualties, the creature completely overpowered us. To think one assassin could possess such savage strength. His injuries look severe, you really think he can survive this?”

 

“He’s an Abyssin, they have highly advanced regenerative capabilities. He’ll be unconscious for a while but when he awakens, he’ll be at full strength. I suggest you restrain him.”

 

“We’ll have the healers place him in a trance.” Zez-Kai Ell interrupted. “I wonder, could this incident have been intentional? A trap set by the Sith?”

 

Vrook’s brow furrowed. “It’s possible, but the events surrounding it don’t add up. Regardless we should inform every Jedi to return to their quarters while we ensure the Temple is secure.”

 

Kavar nodded. “Agreed, I’ll stay with –”

 

“Wait!”

 

They all turned as Atris emerged into the hallway, something clutched in her hand. A cold determination radiated from her gaze.

 

“Atris.” Kavar began.

 

“What happened here?”

 

“One of the assassins we recovered was alive, it escaped–”

 

“This is her doing.” She interrupted, stabbing a pale white finger at Traya.

 

“Master Kreia?” Vrook cried. “Atris what is the –”

 

“She is no Master. She is Sith.”

 

The Jedi looked at her in disbelief. “Sith? Atris what are you saying?”

 

Atris held up the object in her hand, a small domed device. “This is a transmission scrambler, planted in the situation room during the black out.” She took a datapad from her belt. “I ordered an investigation into the incident, and I have a report from engineering that confirms the power failure was caused deliberately, yet none of the engineers confessed to it.”

 

“This is your evidence?” Kavar began. “Atris we cannot –”

 

She raised a hand. “There’s more. The scrambler only worked to disguise the signal, not erase it. Unless you knew where to look, you’d never notice it. But I did, and I had the transmission recovered. It was too heavily encrypted to decipher but we managed to trace its origins, and its destination.” She tapped at the datapad and held it out for them to see.

 

“The transmission came from “Master” Kreia’s chambers, and its destination was Sith Space. I believe that is sufficient proof masters, this woman is a spy.”

 

All eyes turned to Traya, who had not moved an inch since Atris had pointed her accusatory finger. There was a brief silence. Traya readjusted the cowl of her robe, and broke the silence with a chuckle.

 

“A spy?” She said.

 

“I’m impressed by your deductions Atris, but I am more than a mere spy.” The smile faded, and her voice curdled with malice. “I am a Sith Lord.”

 

They all took a step back, and ignited their lightsabers.

 

“You lied to us!” Kavar cried.

 

“You seem surprised? What? Did you truly believe that if you waited here in your cradle of power that the Sith would appear before you in plain sight? Arrive at your vaunted gates and cry for blood? No, we are different, the Sith have changed Kavar, evolved. Lies and betrayal and the weapons we wield now.”

 

“We see that now, Sith.” Vrook interrupted. “But you will deceive us no longer. We have you outnumbered, here in the heart of the Jedi Order, you cannot win.”

 

Traya smiled. “You presume too much, Vrook. But I will not resist.”

 

Vrook frowned, his eyes flicking to catch those of his fellow Jedi, a subtle nod. And then in unison they thrust out a hand. Traya shielded her eyes as a flash of bright light engulfed her vision, a shimmering veil emerged around her. A wall of light, they were trying to contain her.

 

Fools.

 

As the light washed over her she allowed her dark side to recede and shrink until it was infinitesimally small. The light was strong, and it cast its rays across her entire being, but it failed to penetrate that tiny corner, that miniscule shadow, before fading away.

 

The Jedi stared in disbelief as the wall of light dissipated, and Traya was left unscathed.

 

“But how?

 

“I told you Jedi, we are not like other Sith. We reside in the shadows, and you will not find us so easily purged. I’m afraid your Jedi powers will not work on me.”

 

“Another deception.” Kavar growled. “What now?”

 

“Take her to the detention centre.” Vrook replied.

 

“Wait, masters!” Atris interrupted. “We cannot allow this woman to live!”

 

Vrook locked eyes with hers. “Do you propose that we cut her down where she stands? That is not the Jedi way.”

 

“But –”

 

“It cannot be done, Atris. We are Jedi. And besides, she may be able to provide us with valuable information about this new Sith threat.”

 

“She cannot be trusted.”

 

“I am aware of that. But we have no other option.”

 

Edited January 27, 2015 by Beniboybling

[Aurbere]

Man, Traya's just mentally owning these fools. I'm really loving her interactions with the Jedi, not to mention the internal Force Lectures.

[Beniboybling]

Man, Traya's just mentally owning these fools. I'm really loving her interactions with the Jedi, not to mention the internal Force Lectures.

Trust me writing these chapters was just as fun.

 

Added Chapter 22.

[Aurbere]

Going after Katarr already?

[Beniboybling]

Going after Katarr already?

Not quite, if you recall Traya taught Nihilus to consume planets prior to that.

[Aurbere]

Not quite, if you recall Traya taught Nihilus to consume planets prior to that.

 

That's right, yeah. I forgot about that. I guess it's because we hear more about Katarr than anything else he did with his Drain.

[Beniboybling]

Added Chapter 23.

[Aurbere]

Duuklaf's back! And he's got some information for our intrepid heroine!

[Beniboybling]

Added Chapter 24, stakes are raised.

[Aurbere]

Now the Force Lecturing will truly begin!

[Beniboybling]

XXV

She had not expected the Jedi Temple to be so well equipped for containing Sith. But that was no surprise, the Jedi Civil War would have demanded it. Traya sat in cuffs, surrounded by a rectangular ray shield projected from the ceiling, the cage itself was occupied by a small chamber of the same shape. From a cursory glance it was obvious that the walls were made from stone, had she had since sensed a far stronger, metal substance lay beneath the surface, most likely lightsaber resistant, perhaps even imbued with the Force. There was only one entrance, a large circular porthole, magnetically sealed. The prison was a veritable fortress, escaping it would not be easy.

 

A faint hum caught her attention as the seal was deactivated, seconds later the door rotated and split in two with a sharp hiss, before receding into the wall.

 

A visitor.

 

No, several. Hooded Jedi dressed in cream robes and wearing gilded masks, all armed with identical double blade lightsaber pikes.

 

Ah, so this must be the Jedi Temple Guard.

 

She had heard of them, a newly created role with the Jedi Order, formed under the advice of Master Atris to protect the Jedi Temple during the Jedi Civil War. Indeed with so many Jedi absent during the Mandalorian Wars and the ensuing conflict the Temple had become a target, both by the criminal elements of the galaxy seeking its fabled treasures, and from former Jedi turned to Darth Revan’s cause. And with so many abstaining from the conflict, wary of being tainted by the blood lust of war, volunteers for the role of “peacekeeper” were in not in short supply.

 

But there was something ominous about the Jedi that stood before her. Something cold and emotionless, yet resonating the same zealot fervour she sensed in Atris.

 

Three had entered the chamber, but she could sense more outside, and another…

 

“You are to be brought before the Jedi Council,” one of the guards boomed. “Do not attempt to resist.”

 

The controls for the ray shield must have been located elsewhere for without the guard’s actions it deactivated. As it did they ignited their lightsaber pikes that glowed a golden hue. Hands still cuffed behind her back Traya rose to her feet and stepped forward, they escorted her out of the chamber and into a narrow hallway. As they approached another mag-sealed exit the door sealed behind them, one of the guards stepped towards the lock panel, standing at an angle that deliberately obscured her view as he activated it with a wave of his hand, and after a series of whirs and clicks the door slid apart and they stepped through.

 

Kavar – flanked by two more Temple Guards – was waiting for them. He did not say anything, but instead turned away. The Temple Guards followed behind him, adopting a square formation around their prisoner.

 

For a while they walked in silence, then Kavar spoke.

 

“I have encountered a number of Sith in my time, even Darth Revan himself. They were all anger and hatred, but you are different, you are not like them.”

 

Traya said nothing.

 

“You used to be a Jedi, didn’t you?”

 

“Oh?” She began. “And what makes you say that?”

 

“How else would you know the Temple so well? How else could you be aware of our ways and customs, and fool us into thinking you were one of our own?”

 

“Jedi are not so difficult to deceive.”

 

“Say what you will, but I know I’m right. It’s the only reason you’d have for concealing your identity from us, from hiding who you truly are.”

 

“Try? I’d say I have succeeded. For while I know you Kavar, you do not recognise me.”

 

She could sense his anxiety, as he struggled to remember. Her concealment was strong, but not impenetrable, had they truly tried so hard to forget her?

 

“You hide yourself well, but from the moment I saw you I was sure we had met. Yes I knew you once, and there was good in you. You play the part of the Jedi all too well, Kreia, I sense the good is still there.”

 

Traya scowled. “Do not lecture me on good and evil Kavar, as if the galaxy were so black and white. I am what I am.”

 

“And what is that? A Sith? Or something more I wonder? Why did you come here?”

 

“Oh? Now how would your fellow master’s feel if you began the interrogation without them?”

 

Kavar growled, but said nothing more.

 

The Council was in full show, and all eyes turned on her as she entered the chamber. The Temple Guard standing watch behind her. Their thoughts, feelings, they were more difficult to decipher than before, and she could sense them actively shielding their minds. But she could still feel their emotions, anger, hatred, fear. This turn of events was unexpected, but she could yet use it to her advantage.

 

“Do you know why we have summoned you here?” Vrook spoke as Kavar took his seat.

 

“You desire answers.” She replied.

 

“That is correct, and you will do your best to provide them. Remember what you have no power here, not anymore.”

 

Traya laughed defiantly. “A bold claim!”

 

Vrook frowned, but continued. “Tell us why you came here, Sith. What did you hope to gain?”

 

“You were after the artifacts in the Black Vault weren’t you?” Atris interrupted. “You planned to coerce the Council into granting you access and stealing the contents.”

 

A pause. “Is this true?”

 

Traya smiled. Here was an opportunity. “Yes, it is. Though I merely wished to confirm what was inside, and that they were not forgeries. I may not have seen them with my own eyes but it is of no matter. I could feel the power of the dark side emanating from that vault, despite your attempts to contain it. They and the rest of the holocrons in this Temple will be mine when my forces finally arrive, and lay waste to this ‘sanctuary’.”

 

She had their attention now.

 

“Forces?” Vrook said, sharing the look of bewilderment.

 

“Are you saying that more are coming?”

 

“That is correct, with every moment wasted here the Sith draw ever closer. Make no mistake, they will kill you all.”

 

“You’re lying!” Atris snapped. “The Sith would not dare attack Coruscant, the Republic –”

 

“Our war is no longer with the Republic, Atris.” The Jedi Master winced at the use of her name. “But with the Jedi and the Jedi alone. Rest assured that the Republic fleet in orbit over this world will remain unchallenged, and that only the Jedi shall fall.”

 

“Then what of the war in the Outer Rim? Are your forces not responsible?” Kavar, ever the warrior.

 

“If you refer to the squabbling warlords who fight over the remains of a dead empire, then no, we are not responsible.”

 

“Then you are a splinter group.”

 

“We are the future, masters, of the Sith and the Jedi. And we will see the Jedi gone.”

 

“And what if you’re lying to us?” Zez-Kai Ell retorted. “What if this is another of your deceptions designed to leave us vulnerable?”

 

So they want proof. Traya mused, but before she could respond Vandar interrupted.

 

“But if we choose not to believe, would that not leave us equally vulnerable, hmm?”

 

“If an attack on the Temple is imminent,” Vrook began. “Then we will be ready. The strength of the Sith is not what it once was, you cannot intimidate us.”

 

Traya scowled, as Vrook’s voice reverberated through the chamber. She could feel the fear dissipate as the strength of his words emboldened them.

 

It did not last.

 

Instead an invisible tremor heard and felt, a piercing scream, a thousand screams, shook the very foundations of the chamber. A disturbance in the Force. The Council tower was a conduit of Force energy, attuned to the cosmic balance of the galaxy, and it magnified the screams tenfold. She watched as the Council sagged in their chairs, clutched at their chests as if struck by a sudden pain. They were all a ghostly white. Even she felt weak as the screams washed over her, it was deafening crescendo that you only wanted to stop.

 

But she quickly swept away the pain, this was her moment, she could not afford to show weakness, instead her grimace twisted into a smile.

 

“Did you feel that, Masters? It cuts through your defences, as unprepared for such an attack as you are. What you felt was the death of a planet, and all those who lived upon it, the true extent of our power. Let that pain be a lesson, and a taste of what is to come.”

 

“Wha-what have you done?” Kavar spluttered.

 

Rising from her chair Atris ignited her lightsaber with a sharp hum, Kavar followed suit.

 

“Tell us, now!”

 

Traya stood unphased. “See for yourself.” She said, turning her back and stepping from the centre.

 

Just then the panel on Vrook’s chair began to bleep softly, he pushed a button and spoke into the transmitter.

 

“This is the Jedi Council.” he spluttered “Report.”

 

“Master Jedi.” A voice crackled in response. “We’re receiving an incoming transmission from one of our Jedi cruisers in the Solomar system–”

 

“Patch it through immediately.”

 

There was a muffled acknowledgement and the transmitter clicked off. Moments later were Traya had been standing the holoprojection of a Jedi appeared in front of them.

 

“This is Jedi cruiser Guardian–” the transmission was muffled by static and the image began to flicker and tear, but the fear in his expression was undeniable. “We are under atta… Sith battleship of unknown… they destroyed a planet… don’t know how–” the Council was rapt “no signs of life… something terrible… we saw the whole thing, transmitting the recording now–”

 

The image cut out abruptly, and another image flickered into view. This time the curve of a planet, lush and fertile, it was Solomar Seven. Then something happened, black tendrils, a dark indefinable matter of billowing cloud began to spread across the surface, moments passed, before it was totally consumed by darkness. Then the transmission cut out completely, leaving the Council in stunned silence.

 

Vrook ran a quivering hand over his brow. “Atris, Kavar, put your weapons away.” They complied, Atris more reluctantly.

 

“And guards, take her back to her cell. We must discuss this in private.”

 

They bowed in unison, then moved to escort Traya away. But she moved before they could reach her, striding towards the turbolift with an air of triumph. She paused at the entrance.

 

“You can’t win. We will destroy you all.”

 

And then she was gone.

XXVI

As the planet before him died he felt a pain almost indescribable. As if every atom of his being was being annihilated into nothingness.

 

In order to consume Solomar Seven he had unshackled his hunger completely, and as it fed on the immense energies that lay beneath him the hunger swelled, an infinite blackness growing ever more infinite, he had lost control, and then it turned on him, and swallowed him whole. The man he once was, or what little was left, was gone, obliterated along with his body and his mind. All that remained was his hunger, and a primal will bound to his armour that longed to consume and destroy. And he would start with his master.

 

* * *

 

But a day had passed since the incident, and the Order was still in a state of shock. News had quickly spread of the disaster, and although the people of the Republic had been kept unaware, the Jedi knew the truth, and they were afraid. Only a select few trusted Masters had been informed of Traya’s threat, but the Temple had been put on high alert, they knew something was coming.

 

The Council was in session, thought they were unaware it would be for the last time.

 

“Earlier today,” Vrook began “a new bill was proposed to the Galactic Senate, in short it called for the Republic to sever all ties with the Jedi Order, and order their withdraw from the conflict in the Outer Rim.”

 

“What?” Kavar interrupted. “For what reasons?”

 

“They believe that as long as they continue to align themselves with the Jedi, that they will be targeted by the Sith. It already has the support of almost a third of the senate.”

 

“But, that’s absurd!”

 

“Is it?” Zez-Kai Ell interrupted. “More and more academies have been attacked by the Sith, and Republic citizens continue to be caught in the crossfire. The Republic must realise that we are being hunted, and now that the Jedi Civil War is all but over –”

 

“They are content to wash their hands of what remains, and let us fight amongst ourselves.” Kavar finished.

 

“But can we blame them?” It was Lonna Vash that spoke. “The Jedi Civil War tore an already fragile galaxy apart. Revan acted as former Jedi, and many hold us responsible for the conflict, public opinion has been against the Jedi for some time.”

 

“We cannot afford to be concerned with our relationship with the Republic right now.” Atris interjected. “Or with our public image. All that matters now is the preservation of the Order.”

 

“But with the Republic brining that relationship into question,” Kavar began “we cannot expect to rely on their support in defending the Temple.”

 

“No.” Vrook agreed “In that I believe we stand alone.”

 

* * *

 

Traya did not have to wait long for her assassins to arrive, two days passed and on the second day, as night fell, she felt a presence slip into Coruscant’s atmosphere and disappear into the cityscape below. It was time for her to leave. Traya surveyed her ray shield prison, and the thick reinforced walls beyond it. By now she had located all thirteen of her cell’s structural weaknesses, it would be difficult to exploit them, but hardly impossible.

 

Yet something stopped her, as the presence of three Jedi entered her mind. She could see the figures approach through the walls, Kavar, Vrook, and Zez-Kai Ell.

 

For a moment she considered the possibility that they been forewarned by the Force of her plans to escape, or perhaps the arrival of her assassins, but dismissed both as unlikely.

 

The circular cell door swung upon and the Jedi stepped in.

 

“And to what do I owe the pleasure?” Kavar winced at the same words she had used to address him when masquerading as a Jedi.

 

Vrook scowled. “We have come to ask you some questions, you’d do well to comply.”

 

“Your questions will have to wait, Master Vrook. I was just leaving.”

 

“What? Who do you think you –”

 

But Traya had had enough of her cell, and this Temple, and all the prattling Jedi inside. With a wave of her hand the ray shield deactivated and she thrust out a palm, launching a blast of kinetic energy at Vrook whose mouth had swung agape.

 

“Master Vrook!” Kavar cried as the Jedi Master was hurled across the room and struck against the cell door. Traya smiled in satisfaction and her palms began to crackle with violet energy, Vrook barely had time to stagger to his feet as she unleashed it, energy exploding from her palms to engulf them all. But instead it erupted into a burst of white light as the lightning collided with a shimmering Force shield thrown up by Kavar. Vrook and Zez-Kai Ell quickly added their energies the barrier swelled, standing between her and escape.

 

But Traya refused to relent, pouring more and more into her attack, she could sense their resolve weakening, and the barrier begin to fail, then with one final blast of energy she shattered it to pieces, and all three were sent flying into the wall behind them.

 

Traya quickly assessed the situation, her opponents had been repelled but they were far from defeated, and she could sense more Jedi converging on her location. No doubt the surge of Force energy had caught their attention. She did not have time to defeat them.

 

Time for Plan B.

 

With one deft movement she leapt back and placed a palm on the floor of the cell. As the Jedi staggered to their feet she let a wave of energy flow through her and channelled it into the fracture beneath her hand, the rupture filled, swelled, and then blew apart. A spider web of cracks appearing all at once on the floor with a thundering shudder and a spray of dust.

 

The Masters charged with lightsabers ignited but Traya, keeping one palm pressed against the stone, threw them back with a telekinetic wave. Then she let another wave of energy surge through her body and into the floor, another thunder, she had broken through the stone to strike the metal plating and with a deep clang it fractured as well.

 

“Stop her!” Vrook roared, but it was too late. With one final surge steel and stone shattered completely and the floor beneath her gave way with a cloud of billowing dust.

 

* * *

 

She had fallen several dozen feet, and shards of rock still fell around her. As the dust cleared she surveyed her surroundings. There was greenery everywhere, bamboo wicks, assarri trees, a grove of bhansgrek shrubs and a hundred over types of flora she didn’t recognise filled her vision, all bathed in a golden light. She could hear the muffled sound of waterfalls in the distance.

 

It was the Room of a Thousand Fountains.

 

Suddenly she felt the presence of Jedi and looked up, a trio of Masters cascaded towards her, lightsaber drawn, black glimmering shapes in the shadow of the light. She dashed away, disappearing among the shrubbery and seconds later vanishing into the Force.

 

“I can’t sense her.”

 

“She’s masking her presence.”

 

“Put the Temple on high alert and have all exits to the garden sealed.”

 

Traya watched from a distance as the Master’s moved away. She could sense her forces drawing nearer, she had to get to the Temple’s sub levels before…

 

“Kae.”

 

The voice disrupted her concentration, and nearly shattered her shroud.

 

That name.

 

A tiny bead of light caught her eye, it seemed to glow with a cosmic energy. She reached out with a hand and tried to touch it, but as her fingers drew near it floated away.

 

“Wait!” She cried, but in only a whisper, pushing past some branches to pursue.

 

The bead of light darted between trees and bushes, drifting over gurgling streams and moss covered rocks before disappearing through a waterfall. She stopped. She had been here before, to this place, more times than she could count. At first with her master, and after that, alone. A peculiar feeling bubbled up in her chest, the same feeling she had felt when she found herself at her old quarters. She was sure that this was no coincidence.

 

At she approached the cascade, the water splashing at her feet, she reached out with the Force to part the wall. Before stepping through she felt for the Jedi, they were a good distance away, it appeared they had lost her trail entirely. She would be safe for now. Bending the light around her was taxing, and so she allowed the shroud to fade before stepping through into the cavern. It was just as she had remembered, dark, damp, the floor scattered with sparkling pebbles. A pair of small flat stones sat in the corner.

 

She looked around for the light that had guided her here, but it was gone.

 

“Kae.”

 

There, that voice again. It came from nowhere, instead it seemed to reverberate all around her, and inside her mind.

 

“Who’s there?”

 

“It’s me, Kae. Your old master.”

 

That voice.

 

“You, you were the one who brought me to my old quarters, you were the one who spoke to me as I meditated, and now you’ve led me here. Why?”

 

“Because you have lost your way.”

 

“I told you, I must walk this path!”

 

“You’re wrong, child. The path you have chosen will only bring pain and suffering. I brought you here so that you could see that, so that you would remember what you once had, who you once were.”

 

“A Jedi.”

 

“No!” She cried. “I am not a Jedi! I do not see as they see, I am not blinded as they are. And neither were you!” She sighed deeply, attempting to quell her rising emotion. She had to remain calm if she was to avoid being detected.

 

“You have seen the truth.” She said at last. “We both have.”

 

“I fear that you have seen more than I. And that my teachings have left you vulnerable to corruption. You are, were, a Jedi. Not just a servant of the light, but a keeper of the balance.”

 

“Not any more, master. The balance, the cycle, it must end. And I will be the one to break it. Now, leave me!”

 

For a moment there was only silence, had he really done as she asked? But then his voice resounded again.

 

“I see now that must discover your true path on your own, and that I cannot help you. I only hope that it does not come too late.”

 

And then he was gone, and she was alone again.

XXVII

The Jedi were not difficult to evade, and she soon found herself at the garden’s entrance. A great stone edifice cutting through a wall of green with a small doorway at the base. The doorway was sealed, the blast doors closed up. But it was no matter, as she drew near Traya stretched out a hand and by some invisible command the air in front of her thrummed with energy, superheated particles creating a rippling blue aura that launched itself at the entrance and collided with the edifice. Sending chunks of metal and rock in all directions it smashed the door to pieces, a cloud of dust flooding into the garden, coating lush green in muddy powder.

 

There was a brief silence as the dust settled, and then with a sudden thrum a dozen lightsabers pierced the smoke with their ignition, but before they could move she burst forward into the smog, flinging out both hands as she did and snuffing out the lightsabers as Jedi were flung away from her. And then she vanished again into the Force, moving through the Temple as quickly as possible without breaking her concentration, as the Jedi sealed off exits, manned doors and locked down hangars.

 

The fools, if I wished to escape I would have never come.

 

* * *

 

There were no guards here, here at the sealed entrance to sublevels of the Jedi Temple, to all outward appearances a mere blank wall, but behind it lay a labyrinth of passages fallen into disuse and repair, ancient remnants of the original enclave built over a thousand years ago. An escape route of sorts in the event that the enclave fell under attack, a passageway that led to a concealed cavern, now housed beneath Coruscant’s cityscape. As the years passed the Jedi had grown complacent, and the need for such measures became obsolete and soon forgotten, an unknown even to the Council. In the wake of the Mandalorian Wars in her final years as a Jedi she had discovered its existence. But she had kept this information from the rest of Order, fearing that she may one day have to use it herself, or use it against them. Now the latter had come.

 

She stepped forward, pressing her hand against the wall and with an invisible exertion of the Force activated its hidden mechanisms. The stone before her receded, and with a low rumble split in two, then slowly shuddered apart. Behind it, an infinite blackness, but then the air began to shimmer, shapes began to manifest, and within moments a sea of black clad assassins stood before her, the red eye sockets of their masks glowing malevolently, with a thirst for blood.

 

“My Lord.” The lead acolyte bowed before her.

 

“You have your orders.” She said. “Scour the Temple, eliminate all the Jedi.”

 

She paused as a clattering sound echoed from the hallway, before several dozen Jedi flooded the chamber and blocked their path.

 

Traya turned to face them, still clad in the illusory garb of a Jedi she appeared like a flower amongst a garden of blackened weeds. Without a word, instead a telepathic command, she ordered her forces to engage. A wave of assassins surged forward, spilling from the dark passageway in a black torrent as they brandished their pikes. She watched as the Jedi entered ready stances, preparing to engage the dark horde bearing down on them. But then without warning their enemy vanished, disappearing into thin air, leaving Jedi in startled pause.

 

A brief silence, and then they attacked.

 

Reappearing directly in front of them, some in mid-flight, the assassins tore into their Jedi opponents, twirling and thrusting their pikes as they cut the Jedi down, and were cut down in turn. Then the marauders moved in, brandishing crimson blades that lit their steel masks with an eager intensity. The engagement was short and bloody, and the Jedi were soon dead.

 

Traya turned to an assassin. “Take a squad and scour the prison cells for my astromech, a 3C model, and bring it to me.”

 

“Yes my lord.”

 

The remainder of her forces were already departed and it was time for her to leave as well, stepping over the bodies of the fallen Jedi. They were the first, but already more were joining them as her assassins moved within the Temple walls unseen. A muffled cry or the ignition of a lightsaber would pierce the silence, before quickly being restored, as unsuspecting Jedi were ambushed and cut down. But through the Force the air was growing alive with shouts and whispers, as warnings, cries for help and ripples in the Force spread from Jedi to Jedi. She could sense them scrambling about the Temple like insects. At first they would fight, and then they would flee. The seeds of doubt and fear had already been placed, she had broken their spirit and the Republic had abandoned them, the outcome was inevitable.

 

Soon enough she sensed a group of Jedi who had chosen to fight, they were attempting to conceal themselves, waiting in ambush at the roof of the training chamber just up ahead.

 

A trap, always best countered by another trap.

 

Traya quickly concealed her presence, soon after she had picked up the buzz of confusion from her targets. She waited for a moment, then projected a new aura, this time of the harmless Jedi Master Kreia. A smile curled her lips as she strode forward with new and benevolent purpose, entering the training chamber.

 

The chamber was dark, the lights turned off, dimly illuminated in a grayscale by fading daylight, funnelled through refracting tubes affixed to the ceiling. Humanoid training dummies lined the room on either side, and as she approached the far door she sensed one of the Jedi drop down behind her.

 

“Master Jedi!”

 

She spun around, feigning surprise. It was a young man, two others dropped down next to him, all the same age. They were all wearing braids. They were but Padawans.

 

“Master Jedi,” he said again “do you know what’s going on?”

 

“I felt a disturbance in the Force…” She began.

 

“The Temple is under attack!” The Padawan cut in. “We sensed one of the attackers heading this way, we were going to ambush them but –”

 

“Ambush?” She laughed mockingly. An invisible energy field wrapped itself around their throats, lifting them off the floor as they clutched and spluttered. “You thought that you would be a match for a Sith Lord?”

 

“But – then your –”

 

“Fools.” She clenched her first, and they collapsed to the floor.

 

Just then the door behind her slid open, and she heard the sound of a lightsaber igniting.

 

“Turn, Sith.”

 

She turned. It was Vrook, an angry silhouette in the light of the hallway, his twisted expression illuminated by the green thrum of his lightsaber.

 

“You found me.”

 

He looked at the still forms at her feet.

 

“What have you done?”

 

“I warned you Jedi, that my forces were coming, and that we would destroy you all. And now they have come, did you not think blood would be spilt? Yet again you failed to listen, but this time you won’t survive.”

 

“What do you mean?” he growled.

 

“I speak of the Mandalorian Wars, all those years ago you were granted a vision, a forewarning of the coming of the Sith. But instead of leaving the security of the Jedi Temple to confront the threat, you chose to wait, wait to see what would come crawling out from the darkness. You were unprepared, and as a result almost destroyed, and so history has repeated itself, except this time you will not survive.”

 

Vrook snarled, then reached out with a hand, the lightsabers of the fallen Jedi flying into his outstretched grip, they disappeared within the folds of his robes, and then he raised his own blade.

 

“Surrender, Sith. You are unarmed.”

 

She laughed. “Jedi sentiment. Those who wield the Force are never unarmed.” At that she unleashed a barrage of Force lightning at Lamar, forcing him to block it with his lightsaber. But then an abrupt burst of energy knocked her back and the lightning relented as she slid across the floor. Two figures had emerged behind Vrook.

 

More Jedi.

 

The Knights entered the chamber, drawing their sabers alongside him.

 

Traya rose to her feet and smiled, splaying her hands outward, goading them to attack. The Jedi took the bait, dashing forward they struck at her from all sides. But with effortless movements she bobbed and weaved between their glowering blades.

 

And then like lightning she struck back, with a spin she kicked, striking a Jedi in the jaw as another lunged for her, with a rapid side step the blade narrowly missed her chest. Seizing his wrist she twisted, it cracked, he screamed, and the lightsaber fell from his grasp, seconds later Traya’s palm collided with his chest, striking with the force of a cannon she shattered his rib cage and sent him flying into the wall.

 

Then Vrook came at her, a blinding flurry of violent and erratic stabs, flashing green pythons lunging and stabbing at her as he himself became a blur. Attempting to predict and evade each strike she rapidly backpedalled, but with her mind occupied she did not sense the Jedi whose neck she had seemingly failed to break propel himself toward her from behind, plunging down in a falling avalanche. She sensed his steeled resolve at the last minute and at that last critical moment thrust both palms outward in opposite directions, blowing both Jedi away. Vrook rolled across the floor and the other Jedi was struck against the wall.

 

Traya held him there and began to squeeze, slowly choking the life out of him as his struggled to break her grip. She sensed Lamar spring to his feet in an attempt to stop her, but as he did she unleashed a barrage of lightning in his direction, halting his advance completely. Now they were both pinned and with purple lightning still streaming from her fingers she turned her attention back to the Jedi.

 

“No!” Vrook choked, the oxygen around him being slowly smouldered away. Traya squeezed harder, and then the Jedi fell still, she let him fall. Then in an instant she spun around to bolster her barrage with her second hand, sizzling electrical tendrils far deadlier than Vrook’s pythons lashing and lacerating his lightsaber.

 

His defences were waning, with another surge she could break through, the lightsaber of the fallen Jedi behind her, it would serve its purpose, she could slay him here and now. For a moment she considered the action, but quickly dismissed it.

 

His time is yet to come. The Jedi must be scattered yes, but it is not yet time to break the spine. They must have a leader to gather around, a shepherd to bring them out of the shadows and into the light, isolated and confused, grasping at false hope. And then when they are vulnerable, will we strike them down. Only then Vrook, will you have my permission to die.

 

And so the lightning abated, and as it did she disappeared from the room, vanishing into the Force. Vrook was too slow, he put a hand to his temple but could sense nothing.

 

He slammed a fist against the wall. She was gone.

XXVIII

The Jedi Archives were empty. Its stone busts stoic as ever, ignorant to the calamity occurring in their wake, the fall of the Jedi Order. As she strode across the corridor towards the Holocron Chamber she passed the bust of Nomi Sunrider, hero of the Great Sith War, of Odan Urr, the legendary historian, of Vodo-Siosk Baas, founder of the enclave on Dantooine and famed Jedi Weapons Master, of Master Thon, cleanser of Ambria and venerated master of the Force. Legends from her childhood, heroes of an Order now past.

 

How the Jedi cling to the glory days, and how pale they have become in comparison.

 

The time when a Sith threat would be faced down and vanquished, the time of action. But they had grown apathetic, cowardly, afraid. How easily that fear had been turned against them, how easily apathy had allowed the Sith to grow, how easily the once proud Jedi Order had crumbled.

 

She found herself in the central rotunda, and at its heart a large ring shaped table, carved from wood and heaped with books, tomes and datapads. Inside atop a platform towered a vast armillary sphere, a great framework of rings plotting astronomical axes, celestial movements, cosmic phenomena and other concepts she had never cared to explore. Leaving the rotunda she entered the Fourth Hall, at its end the holocron chamber lay unguarded behind a sealed door.

 

Unguarded. She had thought it strange that the Jedi Archives, the crown jewel of the Jedi Order, would be so readily abandoned. But then an evacuation was underway, the Jedi were few in number, perhaps they could not afford to defend the Temple at all.

 

But even so, surely a member of the –

 

She paused, but a few shelves from the vault. A disturbance in the Force, faint but palpable. Instinctively she reached for her lightsaber but of course it was not there.

 

Another disturbance, this time a sound coming from the upper balconies. Her atrophied eyes flicked over to them, her vision penetrating through the shelves and the floors. The sound was growing louder, a faint whirring, mechanical.

 

Traya’s tensed muscles softened with relief, as Threecee rattled into view. His squat metal frame poking out over the marble balustrades.

 

“So you finally arrived.” She said. “I assume you’ve retrieved my lightsaber.”

 

Threecee bleeped an affirmative.

 

“Well? Do you intend to give it to me or continue admiring the vie–”

 

As if struck by the blast of a thermal detonator Traya was swept of her feet by a wave of energy, slamming her against a shelf and sending books and scrolls tumbling about her. Every bone in her body groaned as she shrugged off the debris and staggered to her feet, clambering back into the hallway she gripped the edge of the shelf to steady herself.

 

A figure now occupied the main corridor, resonating with a presence in the Force now undeniable. A small, wrinkled creature garbed in blue, his clawed hands outstretched in a battle stance, and pale green eyes levelled with hers.

 

Vandar Tokare.

 

“If it is the holocrons you seek, know that they are gone, moved from the Temple before your forces arrived.”

 

Traya suppressed a smile. “Atris?”

 

Vandar’s eyes narrowed, it was all the confirmation she needed.

 

This is the fracture that brought me here.

 

Atris’s fall. A tiny nudge that sent her down the path towards the dark side, a path that for so long had lingered over her like a shadow. She knew not what Atris planned to do with the holocrons, nor where she had gone. But she knew that whatever path she’d pushed Atris on, it would bring the Jedi to their knees. In the end they would destroy themselves, a fitting conclusion.

 

“Then I have no further purpose here, aside from dealing with you, Master Tokare.”

 

The furrows on Vandar’s brow narrowed. “You seem to know my name, and the names of the rest of the Council. And yet we know not you. Who are you, Sith? A spy? A mere pawn? A fallen Jedi? Or something more?”

 

“I am no Jedi.” Traya snarled. “And this façade I wear grows tiresome. Know me for who I truly am.” She spread her arms, releasing a faint tremor in the Force as she dispelled the illusion. The cloak fell as quickly as it had first appeared. Like a discarded robe it peeled away, a cloud of brownish smoke falling from her body to disperse across the floor. In its place, robes midnight black and corrupted skin an alabaster white. Her once pale eyes replaced by two black and empty voids. The Jedi Kreia was gone.

 

“I am Darth Traya, Dark Lord of the Sith, and these forces are mine to command.”

 

Her words reverberated among mute shelves, and the air between them seemed to chill.

 

Vandar clenched his teeth. “So, the head of the serpent reveals itself. And once severed, the body will fall!”

 

In an instant Vandar attacked, moving as a blur he crossed the length of the hallway in seconds, Traya barely had time to call out to Threecee before Vandar sprung into the air, igniting twin blue shotos and pinwheeling toward her. Traya leapt back into, a fluttering black blur, and at that moment Threecee ejected Traya’s lightsaber from a cavity in his frame. Throwing her hand back she caught in her outstretched palm, igniting the crimson blade as she landed, sweeping back into a low ready stance.

 

But Vandar was already upon her, a blazing blue crescendo of flashing blades he struck with pure offensive force. A Jar’Kai/Ataru hybrid, a long esteemed combination that she recognised instantly, it was fast, faster even than Vrook’s Juyo. There was little more time to think as Traya was forced on the defensive, all parries and blocks as she backpedalled down the hallway. She attempted a riposte, to thrust, to stab, but Vandar was too small a target, and evaded each attack with effortless agility.

 

Then a new opening presented itself, anticipating his moves she executed a swift overhead chop as his clawed toes touched the floor in front of her, forcing him to intercept the crushing weight of the weapon by crossing his blades as a net to catch her lightsabers between them. His tiny muscles flexing, his brow furrowing. Traya flashed her teeth in a grimace as she struggled to crush him with her blade, but the angle put her at a disadvantage, with her arms and muscles fully extended she lacked the force to overwhelm.

 

“You are strong, Master Tokare. Very strong.” She said between gasping exertion as they’re blades sizzled and spluttered. “And yet it matters for nothing.”

 

“Your Jedi friends,” she spat “they are already dying, can’t you feel it, Master Tokare? They are dying, and only by defeating me can you possibly hope to save them. But you are not strong enough for that, tiny Jedi.”

 

Her words took root and had immediate effect, Vandar scowled and sliced his blades downward, forcing Traya’s blade to strike against the floor as he leapt backward, before springing forward as soon as he feet touched the ground. His attacks were even faster now, fiercer, and she could feel him pouring every ounce of his energy into each blow. He was trying to finish her quickly, for every life in the Temple depended on his victory.

 

But Vandar had underestimated his opponent, and victory did not come as swiftly as expected. Instead Traya had fallen into a defensive trance, anticipating each blow her blade arrived split seconds before his own every time. And so she allowed Tokare to exhaust himself, his style was growing sloppier, and it was only a matter of time before –

 

There.

 

An opening, sending one of Tokare’s blows off course she lashed out with the Force at the now exposed Jedi, sending his small body skittering across the floor. Traya did not give him time to recover, extending a hand behind her she reached out with the Force to seize at any objects she could. For a split-second she paused as invisible fingers past over weathered manuscripts and worn synthleather bindings…

 

But this was the horticultural department, and she cared little for plants.

 

Within moments the air was filled with fluttering books and parchments as she flung the contents of the nearest shelf at Tokare, but Tokare now on his feet extended a palm redirected the flow so that the barrage instead spiralled around him. His minute form began to rise, his hands moving in slow gestures, and with each movement more books flew off the shelves, and a sharp wind began to howl as Tokare began to generate a hurricane.

 

Then the gales engulfed her, and she shielded her face as tomes and scrolls struck from all sides and the air tore at her robes. But the tempest alone was not enough to injure her, it would merely serve as a distraction, when the current was strong enough to sustain itself without his concentration she had little doubt he would attempt to strike.

 

A flash of blue emerged from the eye of the storm as Tokare flew at her, she attempted to evade but the current was against her. She cried out in pain as Tokare’s blade clipped her shoulder and tore through muscle, this time moving with the current she staggered into the eye of the storm, her hand clasping the wound to heal it with the Force. She could see Tokare on the other side, once again funnelling his energies into the whirlwind, which slowly began to close in around her, she was trapped.

 

But it would not last.

 

With a smile Traya snapped her fingers, a flame appeared to spring from between her fingers before rapidly erupting into a blazing inferno, spreading in all directions to ignite the paper and leather around her. Tokare shielded his face from the flames as the vortex fell apart. As the smoke cleared twin rivers of fire spread out across the ground around her, engulfing each side of the library, shelf after shelf going up in flames as a hellish red haze fell over the Archives.

 

Tokare looked at the billowing flames and embers around him in horror. “No! Stop this!” He cried as Traya cackled in glee, feeding on Tokare’s fear, his pale eyes lit up by the fire.

 

“No!” He cried once more and rushed at Traya, his twin blades sizzling at the touch of embers and blackened scraps of paper, but as he did Traya drew the flames inward and they cascaded towards him, engulfing Tokare in searing pain as the scorching blaze washed over him.

 

Tokare opened his eyes, tried to climb to feet, but he body was paralysed by pain. He expected the smell of smoke, of burnt flesh, but there was nothing. Nor could he any longer here the crackling flames. Finally he willed his body to its feet and looked around, the flames were gone, and the library remained completely intact. Had it all been…

 

“An illusion?”

 

Vandar spun around but it was too late, as flickering red tendrils struck his body and wracked him with pain, real pain, and he felt the Force within him wither and fade. The tendrils subsided, and he dropped to one knee, clutching his chest, the pain remained.

 

“You have lost, little Jedi. You lost because you were afraid, afraid of losing that which you hold dear. Attachment. You forget yourself, Master Tokare.”

 

Vandar could merely glare.

 

“Now” she said, as an invisible grip seized the little Jedi and lifted him off the ground. “Try not to die on your way out.” She spread her palm and Tokare was thrust backwards, thrown across the hallway and through the upper balcony window, the glass shattered into a million pieces, and Tokare fell a long way.

 

Edited February 23, 2015 by Beniboybling

[Beniboybling]

Now the Force Lecturing will truly begin!

Indeed!

 

Added Chapter 25.

[Aurbere]

Chapter 25 did not disappoint! Awesome!

 

Nihilus does good work.

[Beniboybling]

Added Chapter 26.

[Aurbere]

Oh, man! Nihilus is coming for you Traya!