Value Loyalty Above All Else [Star Wars]

Don't often put stuff at the top, but this is related to the content of the chapter.

Not all sections of this are in chronological order, though all take place after the last chapter and before the next. Some will give hints about the timeframe, with others it doesn't matter.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

Soft Voice stared down at the planet, waiting for the station to give him permission to dock. Showing up with six warships might be considered rude, or even mutinous, but it had been a while since he'd seen his friend. The Enosis were going to put up a good showing for his Lord Ceremony, courtesy be damned.

He himself was promoted by Darth Marr a few weeks ago, technically before Mad Mouse, but there would be no celebration for him. Just another Lord in Marr's service, seen more as a soldier than sith.

"I dislike being back here." Astara muttered, lounging on the captain's chair. When she didn't have people to charm she could get rather lax in manner, even though not a soul on the bridge would complain. Not even the captain, who she'd acquired her seating from. "I still think we should blow this off and celebrate in private."

Kripaa kicked her out of the chair with an annoyed look, offering it back to the original owner. The man nodded gratefully, Soft Voice swallowing a smile. The pureblood was more closely intertwined with their forces than most, seeing as he led the entire special forces department. And more than a few sith, though few knew how heavily they'd hidden their numbers.

"And you know as well as I do that isn't possible, Astara. This isn't the outer rim, where none dare oppose us. Darth Baras alone could sign our death warrants, Darth Marr's wishes be damned."

The Togruta made a face, stalking up to a console and kicking out the navigator. They'd already arrived, fortunately, so it wouldn't cause them to crash. "Irrelevant. He's been away far too long, deserves some proper company."

"We got the all clear." Mirla walked up to him, offering a nod. "And we all know Darth Marr would make an issue out of it. After we are dead, admittedly, but he wouldn't let it slide. Lord Morgan has arrived some hours ago, Lord, disappearing into the wilds soon after. Rumour is he took his three apprentices for training."

Of course he had. Soft Voice shook his head, waving. "Doesn't matter. Prepare the men for leave and resupply, and gather up the officers in hangar two. I have an announcement to make."

He slowed his pace as he took his leave of the bridge, abandoning the captain to Astara's whims. Kripaa seemed willing to run interference, for now, so the man should be fine. Regardless, he had a speech to prepare.

Which wasn't what he ended up doing, thoughts going in circles as he stepped onto the small podium. Just enough to be seen from the back, though not so high as to imply arrogance. The Enosis were better than that.

The hangar wasn't full, not with just the officers, but even so there was a crowd of hundreds. Force users and not alike, organised in blocks and standing at attention. "Soon, our second Founder will be inaugurated as Lord among sith. Some of you have met him on Tatooine, some fewer from before that time. I will not bore you with anecdotes or personal stories, though I have many. There are two things you need to know, and the rest you will find out soon enough."

"The first." Soft Voice looked over the room as he took a breath, noting how tense they were. Right. He forgot Mad Mouse had something of a reputation. "Is his people. You are to offer them every courtesy, request and inquiry. They might not be Enosis, might not wear our colours, but they serve the cause all the same. The second, and I hesitate for it is so obvious, is that he is to be obeyed. He helped build this organisation from nothing, trained many of those you admire or follow, and I will not stand for a single instance of disrespect."

Another look, this time revealing trepidation and hesitation both. Admiration, too, though not of the good kind. Despite his best efforts, and those of others, Mad Mouse had acquired something of a cult following. A problem for another time, one the man would hopefully help solve himself.

"Preparations will be made for his arrival, he will be ours to host for the time being, and I expect nothing but your best. That is all."

The hangar emptied slowly as he got off stage, waving over Bastra. The man was in charge of recruiting and training their new members, and as such more aware of them than most. "They going to be a problem?"

"I assume you are referring to the growing sect of people wishing to return our founder to us?" The man shook his head. "No. It's benign, as far as I can tell, and they wish to enact change through popular demand rather than violence. It would be helpful if you can convince the Lord to meet with them, however."

"I'll try. He's no more a fan of cultists than I am."

Bastra raised an eyebrow. "They are not a cult. And with the rate we've been growing, and thus promoting, they have some high ranked beings among them. Another year without intervention and they might well have majority."

"Keep me apprised. I'll make sure to impress the importance of this."

The sith saluted and left, leaving him to his thoughts again. So much to do, so much to prepare for. But nothing to be done here and now, which made him restless. A spar would do him good, he decided. If only he had some people worth sparring with.

There were good duelists in the Enosis, of course, but none that could keep up with him. Let alone pressure him, allow his skill to grow, but it was better than nothing. Even modified, high end training droids only pushed his saber ability so far. Mad Mouse should be able to help with the rest.

Yes, it would be good to see how far his friend had grown.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

"He's clean." Jaesa declared, resisting the temptation to massage her temples. "Bring the next one."

The lieutenant, wearing his Force-suit of borrowed power, nodded. The soldier, a medic by his jacket, stood and left. Then the next came, and Jaesa wanted to groan. This wasn't what she had in mind when Morgan asked her to clear his men.

A stealth mission, such as that time she and Master Karr had snuck onto Dromund Kaas, had been her imagination. Deep cover, learning to suppress one's Force prowess down to nothing. It had been easy, then. Before her gift had matured. Now it was all but impossible to hide, only her long experience with the discipline making her somewhat able.

Now, however, there was no need to sneak around anywhere. All who resided in the ship answered to Morgan in one way or the other, and none disobeyed the Chosen when they took them for interrogation. Only one had been caught, so far, but they weren't even halfway done.

"Enough for today, I think." The officer nodded easily, making a note on his datapad. She knew he was keeping records of her progress, even though Morgan had told her she could take until Korriban, and it was annoying. "Do you know where Alyssa and Inara are?"

"Training room four, ma'am, as of twenty minutes ago."

She left, trying to ignore the stares. A new face on a ship was always interesting, she knew that, but normally it eased off after a day or two. But no, she was the jedi traitor serving their Lord. She would be interesting for a while longer yet.

Jaesa swallowed as she turned a corner, still not over her embarrassment. She'd thought keeping an eye on the man, and seeing Baras in the flesh, couldn't hurt. She could offer her opinion, score some points, gauge him when he thought no one was looking. Except he'd noticed her, even if the Darth hadn't, and scolded her for it.

Watching Karr beat the man, seeing how badly he'd been wounded, had made her think he was weak. Not particularly so, but weaker than Karr. His power only helped cement that belief, greater than her own by not much at all. That had been a mistake.

Two training sessions she'd had with him. Two periods of time where she'd been deconstructed, analysed and humiliated without pause. He'd been polite about it, kind, even, but he'd been disappointed. Thought little of her lightsaber skills, less of her control over the Force and had insisted she'd learn fleshcrafting.

And they hadn't even begun Je'daii training yet. Whatever that would entail.

The two sith were sitting on the floor as she came inside, making her pause. She knew those two were in love, had walked in on them once trying to suck the soul out of each other, and she grimaced. She never could understand that, not really. She could pretend, had trained herself to when her parents had started hinting they'd found her a match, but she couldn't. Didn't feel that attraction others apparently felt.

"Don't just stand there, it's weird."

Jaesa snapped her focus back to the present, fighting to not react. Both of the women were looking at her expectantly, motioning for her to sit. She did, taking the hand when it was offered.

The exercise to learn fleshcrafting, apparently, involved pain. She was used to that, Karr had never been a gentle teacher, but this was different. Pain she could deal with, this she almost couldn't. But quitting now wasn't an option, so she took a breath and got started.

And stood five minutes later, pacing. Inara, the one that scared her somewhat less, tilted her head. "Problem?"

"I don't understand him, don't know what he wants from me. It's becoming an issue."

The pureblood rolled her eyes. "He will want what he will want, and you'll obey. Don't stress so much."

"Supremely unhelpful, thank you."

"I'm not joking." Alyssa clicked her tongue, annoyed. "How much do you actually know about him? From what I gather your power doesn't grant a complete history."

"I wish. Must have spent years learning to use it, interpreting the results and trusting my instincts. It's not some on-switch, like activating a lightsaber. I. It's hard to explain."

Inara nodded sympathetically. "I'm sure. What she meant was, how much do you know about his past? How much did Karr tell you?"

"That Baras's newest apprentice is hunting me, undoing the work we've been doing. He didn't learn much more, since the Darth devoted a lot of resources to keeping his apprentice hidden."

"He doesn't." The pureblood snorted. "That would be the Intelligence spook and pirate queen. Fair warning, don't get in Vette's way. She and our Lord love each other and he'll be far, far less understanding when it concerns her wellbeing. In the 'kill first ask questions never' kind of understanding."

Inara shrugged. "That. And the Darth, don't get in the habit of disrespecting the man, cares for nothing save your death. To get to the point so we can get back to training, what do you know of the Enosis?"

"Military sith order, under Darth Marr's command." Jaesa recited, lost. "Been making some powerful people very nervous. A shift in doctrine, one that some are blaming jedi defectors for. They recruit as they travel, take those with nowhere else to go. Slaves, the homeless, the abused. What's that got to do with Morgan?"

"He founded it along with its current leader, Lord Zethix. Built the order from nothing on Korriban, though the exact details are classified. He calls, hundreds of sith flock to his word. Thousands more soldiers and personnel, to say little of the Lord he's been friends with for years."

Jaesa swallowed. "I didn't know that. And as concerning as that is, what does it have to do with me not knowing what he wants?"

"Because he collects strays." Alyssa spelled out, impatient. "It's what the Enosis is, more or less. He does the same here. Captain Kala and her dead career, Quinn with the same. Vette was a slave, you were being used as a tool, are you starting to see the picture yet?"

"I. So-"

"So he expects nothing from you but your best. Go beyond that, he'll reward you. Fail and he'll teach you, fail enough and he'll find something less difficult for you to do. I wouldn't recommend that one, personally."

Jaesa sat back down again. "Oh. Training?"

"Best idea I've heard all day."

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

Teacher stirred awake with a long groan, casting out his perception. Stone, more stone and something that was either a dead monster or a very large lunch. He tasted the Force, nudging his holocron into the air. Korriban.

"Ah, finally. Glad that worked."

His apprentice appeared, shining brighter in the Force than he used to. It must have been a while. "Brought me to a nexus point, did you? Smart. How much did I miss?"

"Defeated Karr, recruited Jaesa. They're meditating in the other room."

"You brought them to Korriban for meditation?"

"Baras summoned me. I've got assurances my blackmail is holding, but it's a dangerous time all the same. The hell happened, Teacher?"

He sighed, wishing he still had his mental home. Rebuilding it would be a chore, and not something he was sure would even work. "Ran out of time, or near enough. You're not ready."

"It's now or never. Got this nagging suspicion the next time you fall asleep like that you won't wake up." Morgan sat, face serious. Teacher narrowed his non-existent eyes, looking deeper. He wasn't just a little stronger. No. More mature, with goals and plans. About time. "Let's not do the thing where the mentor dies having taught the pupil just enough to survive. This shit is hard enough as is."

Teacher snorted. "I'll try my best not to. And you're right, it's now or not at all. Remember the exercises we used to do, the pathways in my holocron? That wasn't just for training your control."

"Shocked, I am. Incensed at this betrayal."

"Shush." Teacher took a moment, rearranging his internal pathways. "Try again. I put them on the hardest setting I have, with the most interference. The final test, you might say. Kindly don't fail."

His apprentice got to work without complaint, tackling the problem with no great difficulty. A little slow, perhaps, and he would prefer another few weeks of practice, but it was good enough. Bah. Saying good enough like it wasn't his life in the balance.

Unknown Force signatures entered his range, making him pause. An interruption now would be awful timing, though the three sith meditating didn't seem to mind. One of them, Alyssa, stood and moved to the party. The unknowns bowed, moving to secure the place properly. Enosis.

"Done."

Teacher focused on his holocron, seeing his apprentice was right. "Very well. That, in essence, is what I want you to do. Retrace the original patterns I engraved so long ago, structuring the Force to hold my mind. Not too deeply, we wouldn't want to alter anything, but not too shallow either. Trace them without power first, to practise. It will be harder than the exercise."

"And why couldn't you do this yourself? Seeing as you made the thing in the first place and all." Teacher held still as his apprentice traced the lines, feeling the man slip into the proper mindset. "Could have told me what this was for."

"I thought I had more time. And I cannot do this myself, pupil, because my connection to the Force is a fraction of what it used to be. Had I more time I would have done it properly, and the holocron would have served as my heart instead of prison."

Silence reigned as Morgan worked, Teacher keeping a careful eye on things. Soon enough, however, no more was gained and he sighed. "Alright, now with power behind it. Be warned, it will take much. Not more than you have, but most."

His apprentice started, Teacher lost all sense of time, and awoke feeling better. Marginally so, but better. He shook, tasting the air to find more time had passed still.

"Half an hour." Morgan informed him. "And I'm pretty sure I could have done it better."

"No matter. We will do this again when the new patterns are fully integrated, and more after that. It is no fix, not truly, but better than nothing. How did it go?"

"It was hard." His pupil admitted. "Harder than anything I've done, I'd say. I wouldn't even know where to start making something like that. How long did we buy?"

Teacher shrugged. "Weeks. Months if we are lucky."

"And how many times can we do this?"

"Twice more, maybe. Three if the patches take well."

"And after?"

"After, I am hoping to have taught you all I know. Sit, apprentice. Our lessons have halted long enough. Tell me what you know of the higher applications of fleshcrafting."

Morgan tilted his head. "Modifying people according to their soul?"

"No. That is middeling, though leaning more towards expert than beginner. I am talking about rewriting one's own biology, adding additional organs, bones and muscle. Manually stimulating the Force to massively enhance strength for short durations, or reverting decay. Proper fleshcrafting."

"Nothing, then."

Teacher grinned. "Good. We will start with biology, I think. You will need much better defences if you are to thrive as a Lord."

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

Baras contemplated striking down his rebellious tool the moment it walked through the door, consequences be damned. He didn't.

Because his apprentice, for however long that term would still apply, had gambled correctly. He could Ill afford war with Eliska so close to his move for the seat, no matter if he could win or not. It would expend resources, weaken him in the eyes of others. Caught spying on another Darth, the shame of it. They would argue he is not ready if such a simple task was failed.

"Master. I am here as ordered."

The nerve. Baras would be proud, might even have shown the arrogant child a thing or two, but he wasn't. Teaching his own apprentice was fine, expected, but he would not contribute to the progression of another's. And the failure to find who, exactly, had been instructing his apprentice burned hotter still. "So you are. Your ceremony will begin within the fortnight, and until then you are not to leave the planet. Amuse yourself as you see fit, you have earned that if nothing else, but do not bring shame on my name. Now sit, I will hear the report from you in person."

The boy sat, seemingly unconcerned. Baras knew better, yet found it a convincing display regardless. "Noman Karr held great power and greater skill, yet dismissed the Dark's true danger. I used that against him, successfully taunting the man until he gave into his worse nature. It was a matter of outmanoeuvring him after that."

Yes, a matter indeed. His spies had recorded him gravely wounded, both on Nal Hutta and on returning to his ship. Shortly before they disappeared, all at once. Baras needed no informant to tell him who was responsible for that.

Morgan remained quiet as he himself did, and Baras found a confidence in him that had lacked before. A resolve. He wondered what it was, briefly, before dismissing it as unimportant. In a few months his network will have been reordered and replaced, rendering the blackmail moot. Until then the child could serve.

More important would be to sever the sith's network of supporters, starting with his former tool Quinn. That betrayal hadn't been forgotten, least of all forgiven, and it would be good to show his displeasure. Killing the man, unfortunately, was risky.

He had planned to do so anyway, before meeting with his apprentice. A good lesson on who was the Darth in their relationship, taking his second in command. But he hesitated, and hated his apprentice all the more for it.

Because of the Enosis. He'd known, of course, that his apprentice and the so-called Lord Zethix had been in the same program. Had known they grew close. What he hadn't quite known was how large their influence had grown. Six battleships darkened the skies above Korriban, all crewed by those loyal to the order, and they'd been ferrying sith down to the planet for days.

Why Marr allowed that he would never know, but now everyone his apprentice cared about was under constant guard. Sith guard, weak individually but strong as a group. The madness of it. Any move to monitor or contain them was ruthlessly squashed, using Marr's blessing no less, and Baras wanted to break something.

An overblown, arrogant apprentice he could deal with. An uppity order of sith he could infiltrate and subvert. But together? His greatest weapons, his assassin's and infiltrators, had been neatly blocked by Jaesa. Who herself never left Enosis territory, and any strike on them would bring civil war down on his head.

"Get out of my sight, apprentice. Do not disappoint me."

He was alone after a moment, picking up his datapad. Direct action wasn't feasible, so he would treat his apprentice like any other rival. It stung, to think he would have to resort to that, but he would do what was necessary. The moff picked up quickly, sweating already. It was a balm on his soul, basking in the man's fear.

"You will make it your life's mission to hinder, block or work against my apprentice's people. They will get no soldiers, no supplies and not a single damned ship. I want them starved, you understand? Starved."

The man nodded so quickly he nearly lost his balance, Baras ending the call. A shadow of a man, barely worth the clothes he wore, but also a coward. Those were always the easiest to influence. See how his apprentice would grow without Imperial support, haemorrhaging money.

Baras turned to other matters, ready to put the child out of his mind. Another few months and all would be calm again.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

Her Valkyries parted like fish before the shark, granting passage. Her people were silent as she looked at them, taking in the scene.

Two dead on the floor, another three wounded and Jaesa looking bored. Fantastic. Just what she needed, really. Auditing her entire organisation and pushing three simultaneous expansions was already so very easy. "Jess, be so kind as to tell me what the fuck happened?"

The captain of her guard indicated the former jedi, who was staring back at her calmly. No doubt believing herself beyond reproach, now that Morgan wasn't here. That's what she got for borrowing her, even after his warnings.

"Lady Jaesa was performing her duties, so she claims, when she came across these five. She accused one of selling information to the highest bidder, his friends took exception. One attacked, the jedi ended it. We arrived soon after, securing the scene."

Jaesa grunted. "Doing my job, as ordered."

"Oh? Your job is to kill my people, is it? Interesting. I do believe you were supposed to do your duty along with my Valkyries, not alone. Working overtime?"

"Doing my job as it needs doing. Is that a problem?"

Defiance, great. Vette smiled, tapping her foot. "No, no. You're doing exactly what you're here for. Say, how long have you been away from Morgan? Two weeks, less? I ought to think he misses you."

"He's not available." Jaesa said, a tad quickly. Vette pulled out her communicator anyway, watching it link to their long ranged booster. "-undergoing training on Tatooine. Lord Caro is not accepting calls!"

Morgan smiled at her when he picked up, letting it drop when he took in the scene. "Vette, good to hear from you. Something the matter?"

"Your apprentice is pushing boundaries, being away from home for the first time and all. Being very rude, in fact. I'd almost think she believes herself above me."

Jaesa was on her knee before his presence even flooded the hallway, causing more than a few of her Valkyries to blanch white. Vette herself luxuriated in it, feeling goosebumps crawl up her arm. Must be a new trick. "Is that so? Explain, apprentice."

"Master, please. This is nothing for you to waste your time with."

His face blanked, going from patient to absolutely nothing. "Vette is a waste of my time, is she? Do not presume to put words in my mouth. You will do your job, do it well, and obey her as you do me. I get another call like this and we'll be working on your cooperation skills. Privately. Am I understood, Jaesa?"

"Yes Master. Forgive me."

"Good. This is for you to learn, apprentice. The Force is powerful, yes, but your education is too narrow. Too limited to the art. Arrogance has no place at my side, nor does undermining one's superiors. Vette, we'll speak tonight?"

"Of course!" She bobbed her head, smiling. "The funniest thing happened, can't wait to tell you."

"Looking forward to it. I have to get back."

The call ended, Vette turning back to the Force user. "What did we learn?"

"I'll do my job, ma'am." Jaesa said, bowing her head. "I apologise for my behaviour."

"Wonderful. That aside, it seems we've finally found a thread. Let's go pull, shall we?"

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

"You know your assignments. Do not flaunt them, and should you encounter any resistance you are to report to me. Moff Glarimus is not all powerful, nor well respected, but he still controls this station. Go."

The officers filed out of his room, leaving just Jillins at his side. The newly promoted captain was frowning, which usually meant he was displeased. Quinn sighed at the horrid thought he'd just had, promising himself he would sleep tonight. "Problem?"

"Not as such, colonel. I am trying to reaffirm my promise not to round up a few Chosen, break down the man's door and shoot him. Respectfully, sir."

"Would that it be that easy." Quinn shook his head, knowing they'd likely had a fair shot at it. Lady Alyssa and Inara were with them, along with well over a hundred of the captain's men. Freshly reinforced, true, but Chosen all the same. "But we both know it would do more harm than good. Report on the Aurora?"

"Captain Kala is confident she'll be ready within the week. Delays were unavoidable when she transferred captain Clara to her new command. I must ask, sir. How are we going to pay for this? A few hundred soldiers was believable, but we're recruiting an army."

Quinn pushed over his datapad, swiping a few files away. "Like that."

"This." Jillins seemed briefly at a loss for words, something which Quinn appreciated. Made him feel better about his own surprise. "How can the Empire possibly allow this much wealth transfer?"

"We serve a sith Lord now, captain. Law stopped applying a while ago. Did you think moff Glarimus was being so hesitant because he's a coward?"

"He is a coward, sir."

"True, but not my point. The man is stuck between a demanding Darth, rising sith Lord and eager subordinates angling to take his place. In trying to appease them all he's not achieving much of anything, something which I am more than happy to take advantage of."

"Lord Morgan is lightyears away, though." Jillins raised an eyebrow, curious. "The moff is that afraid?"

"It's more the idea of him, and us. Look."

Quinn pawed at his datapad until it showed what he wished, flipping it around so Jillins could see. The man frowned and tapped some more, eyebrows rising. "I had no idea it was that many."

"Over twenty five thousand transfer applications and counting, which should make any officer very nervous. The story's out, captain. We're the best new thing for any soldier wishing to make a career. For any old hand seeking one last blaze of glory. A fair few are spies, of course, and from more than just Darth Baras, but all the same."

Jillins shook his head. "We can't field that many, not even with Lady Vette throwing corporations at us. Or. Are those donations? Who donates to a sith retinue?"

"We cannot, and you'd be surprised." Quinn took his datapad back, shutting it down with a sigh. "Even if we could, we don't have the ships. It'll be tight even with the Delta-class carrier, which someone was nice enough to retrofit for us. Don't ask, I'm pretty sure she stole it from the hutts."

The captain smiled, if a tad shakily. "That's not normal, right? Just for my own peace of mind, there isn't a group of thieves casually stealing an entire fleet away somewhere, right?"

"It is not. I've been told, quite bluntly, to accept my good fortune and not ask too many questions. I'm inclined to listen to that advice."

"I see." Jillins took a breath, exhaling slowly. "What are we up to? I'd prefer to staff the Aurora with only my people, but I'll need more for that. Seeing as it takes Lady Alyssa and Inara hours a piece, I would like to get started sooner rather than later."

"A little over four thousand, assuming this next group arrives without issue. You can have your pick, you know that."

"Without Lady Jaesa here I'll need to be more harsh with initiations." The captain warned. "I won't delude the Chosen, not when our Lord depends on them."

Quinn waved his hand. "You have command, do as you see fit. I sure don't need the extra work. Speaking of, I need a squad or two to burn down a warehouse. Thugs, mostly, but they seem suspiciously well organised. I'm thinking they're getting paid to harass us, which isn't something I will tolerate. Casual clothing, you know the drill."

Jillins saluted, leaving after Quinn sent over the mission details. The colonel sighed again, turning to the window. Two months it had been since Alderaan, since his Lord, and dare he say it, friend, blackmailed a Darth. Two months where they'd all been working themselves ragged, preparing for whatever Baras had in store.

Two months where he expected to wake up with a knife in his back, no matter the security protocols. It hadn't been good for his health, he admitted. But even with all of that, it would be worth it.

He stood, looking down at the shipyard they'd all but taken over. A shipyard where thousands of his people worked just as hard as him, an army preparing for war. An army technically sponsored by corporations, answering to one man above all. An army filled with those oppressed, held back or discriminated against, flourishing now that he held command.

Now that he could stamp out racism, ignorance and inefficiency without politics to hold him back, one stamp of his Lord's seal enough to silence anyone getting in his way.

An army that, if he asked it, would turn against the Empire. Not quite yet, perhaps, but soon. When his Lord proved the rumours right, and his fiercest supporters started rising in the ranks.

Now he stood a colonel again, with a sith Lord's backing.

Now he could start enacting some real change.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

Elarius forced his hand to still, focussing on the work in front of him. He was a sith major in the Enosis, dammit, and he would not tap his feet like some nervous school boy.

Half an hour later he gave up, throwing his arms on the desk. Being an officer carried privilege that wasn't worth a tenth of the extra work, but in times like this he could appreciate it. His men seeing him stressed, or even nervous, would be hell for his reputation. Or worse, they'd question it. Having an open door policy was good for morale, not so good to avoid embarrassment.

Besides, he reasoned, everything would be fine. This was why he'd accepted the promotion in the first place, to make his voice heard. To make sure this would happen, and happen the right way. There would be no second first impression, no endless attempts to get it right. One shot, that was all he had.

As the time of his meeting approached he felt his nerves settle, as they always did. His blessing and curse, to be twice as anxious beforehand but none when it mattered. Made for good results and shitty nights. Ten more minutes, and the man he was meeting was notorious for never being late.

They passed slowly, and to his amusement he even got some work done. Reassigning the new batch of recruits, they wouldn't do well under him, and making sure the few he kept had proper training. Recruiting slaves had been an inspired move, if one that consumed twice the resources and work, but another year and they'd be as loyal as he was.

A knock on the door interrupted his train of thought, making him tisk. "Come in."

"My Lord Caro." He stood rapidly, bowing deep. Not so deep as to appear sycophantic, but not so shallow as to be seen disrespecting the man. "Apologies, time slipped away from me."

His Lord nodded but remained silent, studying him. Elarius did the same, even focussing his perception on the man. And then shutting it off again very quickly, fighting to keep the wince off his face. Shields were not supposed to wink at people.

Then, finally, the man spoke. "Major Elarius, second battalion. Unofficial leader and spokesperson of the Reborn. I am here as a favour, you understand, and have promised to keep an open mind. I have also been assured you are not a cult, which I will be verifying myself."

"Please do." He said, spreading his hands. "I have nothing to hide, and we are most certainly not a cult."

His Lord seemed amused. "We will see. Why am I here, major? Why did Zethix ask me to speak to you?"

"I would like to offer a proposal." Elarius folded his hands on the desk, taking a breath. "One that, in essence, sees you returning to the Enosis."

"You don't know me. Owe me nothing. The Enosis, when I trained and fought with them, was not even two dozen strong. Now my friend leads armies I do not know, those few I trained commanding thousands. You overestimate how much I could offer the organisation, especially that which it does not already possess."

"I owe the Enosis everything." He said, trying to keep his tone even. By the way his Lord's eyes narrowed, he failed. "Anything and everything. They pulled me from a bad marriage, taught me to control the power I couldn't. Introduced me to like minded people, those that knew what I was going through. I won't pretend my story is the worst, it isn't, but it means everything to me. This organisation means everything to me. Did you know Lord Zethix credits you with its success?"

"I did not, and I disagree with the notion."

Elarius shrugged. "That's your right, sir. But it happened all the same. About how you and him raised each other up, which gave him the strength to teach. The drive to excel. You say you have nothing to offer, I think that's untrue. What few lessons on fleshcrafting you have transcribed allow us to train hard, uncaring about injury. It makes us stronger, so those who harness the aggression of the Dark can't overpower us. I believe, should you return, that the Enosis will become greater than ever."

"I will see about making a lesson plan." Morgan allowed, leaning forward. "But I will not be returning. My course is set, one that I will not drag the Enosis down on. The answer is no, major."

"I see. Unfortunate, but I can accept that. One favour, sir."

"No promises."

Elarius nodded. "Of course. I would only ask that you keep us in mind. We, and by that I mean the Reborn, are growing. Not to leverage numbers or apply pressure, but because we follow your legend. Don't dismiss us before learning what we have to offer."

"I will keep that in mind."

His Lord left without another word, Elarius leaning back. That could have gone better.

Could have gone worse, too. He straightened, reaching for his datapad. His Lord believed they had little he wanted, or were unable to help in his mission. He would have to assure the man this was not the case. Plans formed and notes were written down, rough drafts being sent to his fellow leaders.

The Reborn would become something their Lord could use, damn the price. His debt would be cleared, that which pulled him from the void offered to others.

He would make him understand, no matter what.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

Soft Voice hummed as his friend entered the chamber, dismissing the group he was teaching. It helped, he found, to meditate with those that struggled. Let them see, properly and clearly, what it was supposed to look like. The initiates shuffled past Morgan with deep bows, the soon-to-be sith Lord ignoring them. "Mad Mouse, my friend. Any particular reason you interrupted my lesson?"

"Apologies, but this is important. I had that talk you wanted me to have, with the Reborn ring-leader. He said you've been telling people the Enosis flourished because of me, not you. Seeing as I've been absent since its creation, I find this both untrue and deeply strange."

He hummed again, standing. A practise saber snapped to hand easily enough, a swift check ensuring it would hold. Pouring the Force into it strengthened it further, so it wouldn't snap the moment he applied proper pressure. "I will answer that question, but only if we spar. Do not think I will let you run to Tatooine without one."

"I am not running." Mad Mouse protested, summoning a weapon himself. "And if that's the price, fine. Rules?"

"Let's go hard, yes? I wish to test myself, see how far you've come."

"Sure. Try not to pulverise any bones, regrowing them is annoying."

Soft Voice nodded, though he felt like smiling. If his suspicion was correct that wouldn't be necessary. He surged forward the next moment, going for a simple but powerful strike. His reinforcements thrummed as he squeezed every inch of power out of it, unworried. If his friend couldn't block, he would dodge. If he could not dodge, he would heal. It was nice, not having to be so gentle.

His friend blocked, arm bending to accommodate for the strain. But not very far, Soft Voice noted, and grunted as he redirected the kick. Always with the kicking.

Then he froze, mind rebelling as he redirected the Force. The hold broke a moment later, but too late. The saber was at his neck, his friend shrugging apologetically. "One for me. Won't use that again, and I'll send some exercises over. Astara should be good at attacking the mind, if you want to practise."

Soft Voice nodded, interested already, and used double the power to overload his mental shields. An interesting technique he'd picked up from a priest, of all people. Stopping that natural disaster, on a primitive world of all things, had been good for morale, and like all beings they'd practised the Force. Crudely, in most areas, but they practised.

"That won't work." His friend said, not unkindly. A feeling of wrongness descended again, making his hand shake. He stilled it with some effort. "Power, even that much of it, has no place without control."

Mad Mouse attacked as he bowed his head, forcing him back while ignoring the counter move. The saber hit hard enough bone should have cracked, reinforcements or not. His friend grunted as Soft Voice pushed him away, using a wasteful amount of power but guaranteeing a hit, and braced against the wall.

A loud, sickening sound echoed as his friend shrugged, rotating his shoulder. So he hadn't shrugged off the hit, but neither had it done as much damage as anticipated. Strange.

As they fought, though, one thing became clear. Mad Mouse was beating him. Not dramatically, not all at once, but by the time they'd called it a day his friend was up by six points. A far cry from their usual even split, and that was without his friend using one of his better tools. He himself never did explore mental attacks much, too easy to protect against, but maybe that had been foolish. He'd never had the control to slip past instead of break, and at that point it had been easier to snap their necks by hand.

He grunted as Mad Mouse broke his arm, raising the other one. His suspicions had been well confirmed, at this point, and his friend was starting to look irritated. Probably thought he was holding back, because the man could be blind to the most inane things.

"Enough, enough. My point is made."

"The only point I see is that you're not giving it your all." Mad Mouse folded his arms, displeased. Soft Voice smiled, a touch nostalgic, as his friend healed his arm. "Contrary to what you said, too. What?"

"I remember when you couldn't even hold a blade properly, much less strike others with it. How I taught you most of what you knew, and my natural resilience mattered."

"Speak plainly, you know I despise riddles."

"You've surpassed me." Soft Voice admitted, the first time he'd done so out loud. "Became better. More skilled and more experienced. You are the better fighter, my friend. The prodigy."

Mad Mouse blinked, shaking his head. "I've had good instruction, and learned well, but any would have done so in my place."

"Would they have?" Soft Voice pressed, standing. His eyes bored into his friends, probing defences. He deflected one of his better attacks without pause, not seeming to struggle. "Really? You've told me of Teacher, how he coaches you, but he is a holocron. Able to talk, yes, but nothing more. He is no Dark Lord of the sith, showing you every secret. Little more than a memory, really, giving a glimpse of the past. You learned what he spoke of, and better than most."

His friend grunted, dropping the saber. "I won't tolerate this, not from you."

"You are the better fighter." He repeated, smiling. "I was your first teacher, the one that taught you the basics. Allow me some pride."

"Enough. I'm surrounded by those who worship the ground I walk on, uncaring for my flaws. Don't join them. Please."

Soft Voice sighed, shaking his head. "You don't understand. We walk among mortals like gods, able to do what they cannot. To terrify armies and inspire faith, breaking any that oppose us. You need to accept that, now that you wear the crown. You are better, my friend. I have no doubt about that. Accept it, or face the disappointment of those you love."

"You are my equal." The man ground out, taking a step forward. Soft Voice took a step back, bowing his head. His friend hissed, eyes narrowing. "You are. Don't you dare leave me."

"I am good, better than most. You are better still, and my purpose is clear. I'm sorry, Mad Mouse, but this has been a long time coming. Ever since we threatened the Overseer and guaranteed our future, though I didn't know it then."

"Enough." His friend was angry, he couldn't blame the man, and Soft Voice wished he could have planned this better. But he had to see the truth, even if it hurt. "I. I don't want to do this alone. Not now, not when everything is this fragile. Not when I need you to keep them together."

"You'll have my support, and that of the Enosis."

"Fuck you. Fuck you and the cult you've build around a fiction." Morgan took a breath, deep and thorough, before speaking again. "I'm just barely stumbling along, terrified of a future I can't predict anymore. Don't you dare leave me to walk that alone."

Soft Voice titled his head, curious despite his own sombre mood. "So I was right, even back then. Your knowledge always did seem a tad strange, making jokes no one understood. I'm sorry, for what it's worth. I wish I could have protected you properly. But strength never comes without a price, power never without sacrifice. You are the man I always thought you could be, and I am proud of you."

"Fuck." Mad Mouse seemed to be speaking more to himself than anyone else, fingers twisting. "Stop looking at me like that."

"Apologies, but you know the feeling. Cheer up, my friend. You have people that love you, underlings to protect you and allies that come when needed. I simply joined the second rather than third, a small change."

"Not so small, and you know just as well as I do that power doesn't mean competence. You built this, Soft Voice. They know you, not me. I won't take that, couldn't even if I did."

He grunted. "No one is taking anything. I'll lead the Enosis, as I've done since the beginning, and you'll do what you need to do. Nothing we haven't done before."

"That was different." His friend sighed, and Soft Voice knew he'd won. "But for all that everyone insists I'm in charge, I haven't been able to stop any of you."

Lord Zethix straightened, bowing his head. He might have done it just for the irritated glare he was rewarded with, though that was just a bonus. "My Lord."

"Say that again and I'm removing your ability to speak."

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

"Problem?" Bundu asked, raising an eyebrow. The sith Lord shrugged, rejoining their inwards facing triangle. "I don't know what that means."

"There was a problem, but not a large one. I solved it, and it was not so important as to waste time on it now. That, or I preferred to keep it private."

The jedi Master inspected his hand as Bundu tilted his head. "Which one?"

"The former. Jeasa was being rebellious, pushing boundaries. I set her straight."

"Such a terrifying thing to hear coming from a sith Lord." Volryder said, carefully lifting one coin atop the other; thin sides touching. They stayed there for a moment before falling, making him scowl. "This is impossible. I am a jedi Master, not some padawan. Coins will not be the end of me"

Morgan grinned, reaching out and taking the small pieces of metal. They stacked themselves neatly on his hand, no hint of imbalance. "It's all about fine control, allowing for the perfect placement. Master or not, few focus on it. Telekinesis like this is why my knives don't slip, and why I keep control over them even if you slap them away."

"I do remember you using them well enough, thank you. Going for my knees was dirty."

"You're doing better now than before." Bundu praised. "He is only beating you three to one."

"Bah. I am a man of diplomacy. Stopped wars without ever wielding a lightsaber, negotiated settlements that ended planet wide famine. Even married two corporate dynasties to each other, though I'll admit that one was for fun. Still have that account they gave me, I think. Don't use it much."

Bundu shrugged, appropriating the coins. It was an interesting exercise, he would admit, and one he intended to perfect. "And now you realise that to do good you need strength, and took the opportunity to learn more about the sith."

"You mean I got my ass handed to me by a child and people would mock me if I don't shape up." Volryder grinned, though it dimmed after a moment. "Not my smartest move, I'll admit. I heard stories, same as the rest of the jedi, about an up and coming apprentice. Darth for a master, conquering and cutting away until he leaves for, seemingly, no reason. When I looked at the information we had with the possibility he was trying to do good, as much as he could, some things clicked. It made me want to meet him, and I'm glad I wasn't entirely wrong."

"When he healed you, yes. There are those specialised in the art, I have been under their care more often than I wish to admit, and still he surprised me."

The Lord flicked a stone at his head, a small turn all that was needed to dodge. "Can you two stop talking like I'm not here, please? I didn't come halfway across the galaxy to be gossiped about."

"We came here to meditate and train, yes." Bundu said, shrugging. "Tatooine always was strong in the Force. Before we do another session, and please refrain from making any more abominations as we do so, I have something to ask."

"That was an accident. Also, not an abomination. Simply a manifestation of the Force, curious about my shields. I'm pretty sure it called my defences sister, which I will admit is worrying, but it left in peace."

"It was wrong and should not exist. Refrain from doing it again."

"Fine, be that way. Honestly, you spend a few months teaching people your perspective on the Force and they think they know better. You had a question?"

"Yes. Your master is stalling, working on neutralising the effectiveness of your blackmail, and it won't last forever. After this he plans to kill you, which he most assuredly has the power to accomplish. Do you have a plan to prevent this?"

"Of course. Baras wants to use me for Plan Zero, he'll tell me more soon enough, and leverage that to expose his own master. Kill the man, he gains a seat on the Dark Council. Small problem, Plan Zero calls for me to effectively start a war with the Republic. Not doing that. But he still needs me, since his other apprentices are dead, busy or found to be lacking."

"Your plan is to hope?"

Morgan send him an insulted glare, straightening his back. "It is not. My plan makes use of accurate character analysis, slight sabotage and his own hunger for power. He wants me dead before I become strong enough to challenge him, but since the hopefuls on Korriban died he doesn't have anyone else to send. Can't exactly go himself, he's currently more than able to snap my neck and so plans to wring every ounce of usefulness from me before my untimely demise."

"Your plan is to nearly start a war, where any wrong move could reignite a conflict that would see billions dead, and buy more time doing so?"

"Pretty much. You know what they say, nothing ventured."

"Pardon?"

"Nevermind. Anyway, that's the plan. I sure could use a few jedi here and there, making sure the whole thing doesn't go tits up. Oh, I will be planning to kidnap some very high ranking military people. Fair warning."

"I'm starting to realise I may have bargained badly."

"That's the spirit. Can't have a life-changing event without some regret. But that's weeks off, so let's stop boring Volryder and get some work done."

The jedi Master coughed. "Yes, bored. Stars forbid this sort of information could interest anyone."

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

She nodded to the server, taking another glass of something red. Not quite wine, if tasting like it, and she didn't waste any brain power on figuring it out further. It was tasty enough, anyway, and she looked up.

The infamous Chosen stood like gargoyles on the plateau, featureless helmets staring unerringly ahead. A second of effort had her see their emotions, and all she found was resolve. Not boredom, seeing as they'd been here a few hours already, or nerves. Just purpose.

Maybe the story of how'd they killed a sith Lord hadn't been overblown after all.

Another sip and the last of their important guests arrived, fashionably late. But making up for it with presence, it seemed. Lord Zethix always had cut an imposing figure, being a head or two taller than everyone else in the room, but maybe he was feeling the need to overcompensate. He was rather new himself, there were more than a few Lords here, but the sith he brought wouldn't be able to do much against them.

Four, to be precise, and not counting the devaronian. One in her, wishing to see Darth Baras's apprentice in the flesh, and three more to spy. To take his measure and report to their masters, a task normally reserved for lesser apprentices. But not with the Enosis having taken over security, turning away as many sith as they could get away with.

Funny little sect. Liars, too, by her estimate. Stuffing sith in a soldier's armour wasn't a new concept, exactly, but she had found it curious all the same. Mostly on how the sith in question allowed it, especially for a long period of time. She'd refrained from looking too closely, though. No need to poke the hornet's nest.

Well, that and the fact she didn't exactly have an army herself. Never found anyone that fit her criteria, and the one time she had she'd gotten them all killed. That little experience had been clear on her ability to command, though she was rethinking that decision now.

Because the Chosen were the perfect retinue, in a sense. Strong and durable, unlikely to break if not handled with care, and perfectly loyal. She wondered if he sold his services, their soon-to-be sith Lord, but shrugged. Probably not. She sure wouldn't, in his place. No need to strengthen a possible rival's powerbase.

Sith. Even now the three spies were probing, being horribly unsubtle about it, and Morgan had been spending most of his time running interference. Without seeming intimidated in the slightest, too. Three to one were horrible odds for anyone, yet she hadn't found a hint of fear.

Now his friend had arrived, they seemed actually happy to see each other, and the Lords backed off. Cowards. But it seemed they were finally getting to the point of this, so she supposed she should be thankful.

The ceremony itself was more religion than anything else, a robed woman stepping from the plateau. Morgan bowed politely to her, which made one of the Lords scoff, and she resisted the urge to sigh. This was tedious, yes, but the priests held power. Real power, too, backed as they were by the Dark Council. She'd only seen them once herself, when one came to officiate her own promotion.

Not that she'd done so on Korriban, of course. That honour was reserved for the important sith. She hadn't cared much for the title anyway, so it was fine. Let him have his moment, and let her learn as much as she could.

Because she was curious, both about him and his friendship. Curious how it survived Korriban and seemed to flourish after, strengthening each other instead of becoming bitter enemies. Those closest to oneself always had made for the worst rivals.

She pushed dark memories away as the priest started chanting, tuning out the words. They used the Force, in a sense, but wielded no weapons. It made many dismiss them wholesale, nevermind that they were one of the very few possessing a complete record of every Lord, Darth and Master within the Empire. Answering only to the Dark Council, she planned to stay well away. That was a level of politics she had no interest in.

An official tried to talk to her, she was pretty sure she'd just gotten invited to some function or another, and she flickered her eyes to the man. Whatever he saw made him hesitate, excusing himself after a second of silent panic. Honestly, like she was going to decapitate him here and now or something.

No one else tried, nor with any of the other Lords. They were islands onto themselves, people flowing around and past but never too close, and she raised an eyebrow as Lord Zethix met her gaze. He smiled, inclining his head ever so slightly, and she nodded back. No need to be impolite.

The priest, at least, seemed to be getting to the point. There had been lots of soft whispering to objects, sweeping gestures and searching looks, but her speech was pitching towards the end. The tomb-hall fell silent as she turned her full attention to it.

"And so, by these Hallowed Stones and the blood soaked within, I proclaim you a Lord of the sith. I proclaim you master over those lesser, treasured aid to those greater." The woman's voice climbed into religious fervour, tone pitching low. "I proclaim you Caro, the shaper of Flesh. I proclaim you Conqueror, Victor and Ruler. Raise, raise high, and behold those who would die on your command. Who would raze worlds and dominate the stars, be it on your word alone."

Half a hundred sith, all those who belonged to the Enosis, snapped to attention. She narrowed her eyes as they chanted the name, over and over, and looked more like soldiers than sith doing so. Even their Master, a sith Lord himself, bowed his head. Rather low, too, which turned something in her stomach.

Lord Caro cut an imposing figure, she would admit, and she silently praised his sense of style. Or those of his people, anyway. But impressions mattered, and his armour conveyed one of strength. War. Then his eyes turned to her, briefly, and she tilted her head.

That had been recognition. Not impossible, perhaps, but she wasn't well known. Wasn't involved in anything he might be, since she kept away from Darth's and their power games. Many Lords found themselves quite strongly shackled to their masters, dancing to their tune alone, and she was more than happy to have slipped between the cracks.

But that had been recognition, and she found herself intrigued. About the Enosis and their Master, the Chosen and their Fleshcrafter Lord.

Lana Beniko turned and left, uncaring about the looks she drew. She would have to find out where the man was going, see if she couldn't bump into him.

She never had been able to resist a mystery.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

Tried something a little different for the first interlude, though they won't crop up too much. The chapter takes place over a roughly four month period, just in case I managed to confuse some of you. 

See you all next time!