Epilogue [2/2]

Part 8: Coruscant blues

Jedi Temple

Coruscant

While the Clone Wars continued to rage across the galaxy, the situation on Coruscant began calming down. When the primary sources of jamming were removed from orbit, all military, law enforcement and emergency channels were swarmed by cries for help.

Thousands of LAATs and assault shuttles descended from the heavens and landed at all important Republic facilities on the planet. Heavy armored Clones charged out of their transports with a single mission in mind – restore order and ensure the security of vital installations and personnel at all cost.

Most of the soldiers were met by confused if relieved citizens, especially among those in position to see the Senate and Jedi Temple – which were both burning.

While the former was secured post-haste when the assassins responsible for the murder of the Chancellor fled, the situation at the later remained grim.

Despite the best efforts of certain Jedi Masters, the evacuation of the Jedi Temple was anything but bloodless. Most Clones stationed there turned out to possess unusually strong minds which inevitably led to confrontations which soon erupted in all out warfare. It wasn't until heavy reinforcements arrived that the building could be finally secured.

The Jedi Masters and younglings vanished shortly after the troubles began – whisked away by their ONI allies. Most of them managed to leave Coruscant before the Republic Navy could properly blockade the capital and many others succeeded in vanishing within the city-planet's lower levels.

Yet, nearly a third of the Jedi present at the Temple when the coup began were less fortunate. A lot of them were confused, cut off and forced to fight overwhelming numbers. Then Order 66 came down…

When a concerned Bail Organa arrived to check what in the name of everything unholy was happening, he certainly didn't expect to see Republic soldiers engaging Jedi. He didn't know it, yet his actions resembled those he would have taken in a different timeline – a couple of years later in the aftermath of a very different yet uncomfortably similar coup.

Organa landed his aircar at on of the visitor platforms on the west of the Temple and for a few seconds simply stared in confusion. A terrible accident, another Separatist attack – that's what he feared when communications were suddenly cut. Seeing smoke raising from both the Senate and Jedi Temple all but confirmed those suspicions.

However the truth turned out to be much more bizarre and terrible. On his final approach Bail followed in a flight of Republic gunships which were descending like a flock of avenging angels. He intended to request information once the immediate area was secured, yet any such thoughts flew away when he landed.

There was a boy sprinting towards the landing pad. The lad was a teenager – certainly no older than fourteen at best. He was dragging a crying girl by the hand and brandishing a lightsaber in jerky, desperate motions.

A LAAT flew in front of the Padawan and disgorged a squad of Clones who immediately opened fire on the Jedi. The same was happening behind the lad and he soon was gunned down. It was a miracle that no one hit the girl who curled next to her protector and appeared to go catatonic.

The Clones shouting at her to surrender didn't help things either.

"What the kriff is happening?!" Organa snapped, shocked by what he just saw.

"Identify yourself!" A trooper whirled around and pointed a heavy blaster at the Bail's face.

"Senator Organa from Alderaan. Explain yourself, soldier!"

"Order 66 is in effect, sir. The Jedi attempted a coup. As far as we know they managed to take out the Chancellor, we've got confirmation about multiple generals including Kenobi being wounded and we've lost contact with our men stationed at the Temple. We're here to neutralize the threat and restore order." The soldier paused. "Hex, Lida, on the Senator. Keeping him in one piece is your only priority. The rest, form on me. We've got traitors to hunt."

"What about her?" A Clone asked and pointed at the little girl.

"She's a Jedi." A trooper grunted.

"She's obviously surrendering and thus following Order 66." Another shot back.

"I don't care. A Jedi's a Jedi." Another grunted.

"We're good soldiers and good soldiers follow orders." The sergeant who spoke with Organa interjected.

"I'll look after the kid." Bail butted in the conversation. He didn't like where a few of the Clones were pushing the conversation.

"As you will, sir. Hex, the rest of your squad remains to keep an eye at the prisoner. Make sure she doesn't escape." The sergeant shrugged and jogged towards the Temple.

"Are you sure about this, Senator? She's a Jedi and they just betrayed us all!" Hex grumbled.

"She's just a kid." Organa glared at the soldier.

"A Jedi too." Hex shrugged. "Your responsibility, sir."

Bail glared at the soldiers and went to check up on the little girl. He needed to get her out of here and then figure out what was really happening. The very thought of the Jedi pulling off a coup – an obviously unsuccessful one at that… Organa's mind refused to accept it.

=RK=

GAR Hospital

Undisclosed location

It was quiet at the hospital. The only sounds Satine could hear were the quiet beeps of the equipment and a few whispered conversations coming from the doctors who just got her husband out of surgery.

Obi-Wan was going to live and was expected to make a full recovery, even if he was going to spent at least twenty four hours stuck sedated within a bacta tank.

Bo on the other hand… Satine shook with fury. Her sister was still under the knife and was expected to remain there for the rest of the day – if she was lucky. Bo died twice on the way to the hospital. If she survived the operation, Satine's sister was going to be crippled and relying on life-support tech to continue living. The damage to her chest and spine was so much that the doctors would have to turn her into a cyborg if she was to live.

The Duchess looked around in derision. There already was a Clone company on the floor with the rest of its battalion securing the building. She was pretty sure there were more soldiers coming in – both Mandalorian and Republic.

It was too little too late. None of them managed to keep either her husband or sister intact.

Satine's hands fell to her belly where her child was growing. She shuddered with a very different emotion when she thought of suffering Bo's fate. Her child wouldn't have survived such a trauma and it was only luck she didn't run into Windu herself.

The Duchess was terrified of that prospect. Scared that her daughter might not be born. Of the world she might be born too.

Satine looked at Obi-Wan who was peacefully floating in the bacta. Even after being repaired during the surgery, his wounds were gruesome. Her husband was lucky to be alive.

This… It was unacceptable! The war needed to be over as soon as possible. It needed to be won in such terms as to ensure no one would dare threaten her loves ones again!

For her daughter's sake if nothing else.

That simple thought put things in perspective for Satine. Mandalore needed the Republic in order to survive. Barring that, it needed an alliance that could keep her home safe for long enough to be fully self-sufficient military wise. Satine's mind went to the implications of the coup, its inevitable fallout and to whatever she would need to do to spin things in Mandalore's advantage.

=RK=

Republica 500

Coruscant

For once in her life, Padme Amidala missed all the excitement. It was embracing really – with no Senate meetings or really anything else of importance until the afternoon, she decided to sleep in. With communications jammed, there was no one to warn her of the coup or really whatever else was happening on Coruscant.

That's why she slept in. C3PO was busy recharging and there was no one else at hand to give her the news so she could do something to mitigate the madness gripping Coruscant. Not until it was too late anyway.

Once the jamming was up and a message from Bail got through, Padme was suddenly awake and stunned. The news channels were going crazy, comm lines were in disarray and the GAR was announcing martial law until they could restore order and ensure there would be no more fighting on Coruscant.

Naturally a furious Padme got clothed ASAP and went straight to the senate… where she was barred entrance while the building was being secured by an even increasing number of soldiers.

"What do you mean the Senate's sealed?!" Padme exclaimed.

"We're still sweeping the building for enemy combatants, wounded and any unpleasant surprises, ma'am." A harried sounding lieutenant explained. "You might want to try at HQ. Someone there should have more information." The Clone paused. "Max, the Senator needs security detail, get on it!"

"I don't!" Padme shot back.

"Standing orders, ma'am. We're to ensure no more government officials are lost. You're getting a security detail and that's that. If you want to do something about it, you should go to HQ."

Amidala fumed. Tried to go to her aircar before her minders arrived, though she was unsuccessful and found herself being driven to GAR HQ by a group of polite Clones who paid no heed to her orders to leave her alone. They even had the gall to sound amused, the bastards!

That's how Padme got a security detail as a consolation prize and a driver on her way to GAR HQ where she wanted to get more information and to lose the Clones if at all possible.

"No can do, Senator." Another grumpy lieutenant met her at the doors. Well, a good distance from them, because the entrance was currently blocked by a pair of walkers and a small army of Clones who were busy fortifying the place as if they expected the whole Separatist army to drop for a visit.

"What about my husband? Do you know if he's all right?" Padme pressed on.

"Skywalker? He's in the brig." The lieutenant sighed. "He didn't have the good manners to resist. I would advise that you head home until we can finish securing Coruscant against the Jedi and the other traitors. Sergeant, please escort the Senator home."

"What do you mean?!" Padme exclaimed.

"Weren't you informed, Senator?" The officer proceeded to explain what little he did know.

That's how a shell-shocked Padme ended up back at Republica 500 in the company of five Clones who were very polite but firm in their request that she stay put and doesn't go out to get herself shot at - again.

That was… for once Padme was at loss of words in her indignation.

She hadn't seen eye to eye with Palpatine for years, but to think that he was dead – assassinated by the Jedi because he obviously supported the Sith in the face of Veil… Padme sat down on the couch in her living room and stared blankly through the window. She found it hard to believe what the Clones told her. The very thought of the Jedi turning against the Republic was unthinkable… yet… That wasn't how they saw it, was it?

Padme shuddered. If it was true… If the Jedi went and murdered Sheev just because he worked with and supported Veil… what about her? It wasn't that long ago when that man proposed an alliance that ultimately might have made her the most powerful woman in the Republic if she and Anakin allied with him. If things had turned differently, would the Jedi had gone after her?!

Padme shook her head in sick fascination. How could things go so wrong so fast? She was afraid to even contemplate the political consequences of the Coup.

=RK=

Senator Mothma's home

Coruscant

Senator Mon Mothma sat in her darkened study and was afraid. The initial reports she could get pointed at one inescapable conclusion – the coup she tactically backed was less than successful.

The only good news was that Palpatine apparently didn't survive. Mothma knew that the senators who offered direct help were already scrambling and leaving Coruscant – well those who weren't prudent enough to find a good reason to make themselves scarce earlier. That put her in an awkward position. Mothma didn't know if one of the people who orchestrated the coup and knew of her tactic support was going to be caught alive. She thought about running but dismissed that idea.

If she had to Mothma would fall on her sword in order to protect Chandrila. Thanks to her deal with the devil, there were a lot of new munitions and arms factories being constructed back home. If it came to that, the nucleus of resistance against tyranny was already being formed by ONI and SIB loyalists. However, if she was lucky, Mothma might yet make such a thing very much not needed. With Palpatine out of the picture it was possible to get someone not corrupt confirmed as a Chancellor. The Republic might yet be saved from both itself and the Sith – something Mothma couldn't do while on the run.

And if she had to fall on her sword, then she would die a martyr inspiring those who knew the truth.

=RK=

Lower levels

Coruscant

Mas Amedda was on the run. He's been doing so from the moment he got confirmation that Palpatine was dead. Amedda was possibly the only one who really knew the depth and breadth of the blackmail material the Chancellor had gathered on everyone.

Mas knew Palpatine better than anyone else too. He had no doubt that the Chancellor had placed more than one dead man switch as a final kriff you to his enemies. The Republic was in for some very interesting times. Amedda too, unless he managed to disappear before the files were released – after all he featured in many of them.

The ViceChair of the Senate was too busy with his own thoughts to pay much attention to the people around him. People who looked quite scruffy and dangerous. People who were examining his expensive clothes with speculation in their minds.

That's why being grabbed by the shoulders before a massive fist impacted in his gut came as such a rude and terrible surprise. Something hit his knee and Amedda found himself falling to the ground.

"Another rich boy coming down here for the thrill, eh?" A gruff voice growled.

A spiked fist sunk in Mas' kidneys, then someone kicked him in the ribs hard enough to break them.

Two days later, the brutalized body of Mas Amedda was found in the gutter by a Clone patrol, which explained how the last man who could have possibly prevented the Republic spinning out of control was not available to do it in the first critical hours after the Coup.

Ultimately, Amedda ended up hailed as a hero and another victim of the traitors, despite being posthumously being implicated in corruption, trading influence and blackmail.

=RK=

Part 9: The Confederacy ascendant

Trest Ilroth's residence

Raxulon City

Raxus Prime

The Triumvirate which for all intents and purposes ran the Confederacy of Independent systems got together for one of their frequent gatherings where they discussed the state of the galaxy and how to go forward. Usually all they really did at their meetings was to straighten some details and ensure they presented a united front to the rest of the Council. Most of the really important discussions and decisions, at leas as far as the war was concerned were usually made at one of the beyond secure conference rooms at the primary military complex on the planet.

Trest and his two guests did precisely that early in the morning before retiring to the Neimoidians residence for further discussion before meeting the rest of the Council in the late afternoon. San Hill and Kleo Vombra got their chosen poison following Ilroth's example and sat on comfortable armchairs next to a low table in the corner of the study. They were soon joined by their host after he made sure that the room was sealed and the built in jammers running.

Ilroth crashed on the soft couch, sipped his tea and looked at his colleagues.

"Who wants to start?" Trest asked.

"Our latest military successes are going to be troublesome." Hill grunted. The tall being took a swing from his Corellian Brandy and sighed. "One look at the maps and people would begin asking why haven't won yet."

Trest winced. He was the one to ask that precise question to their military leaders, which earned him a nasty tirade. At a first glance, the Confederacy currently controlled most of the galaxy. Since yesterday the Corellian system was under the firm control of admiral Trest, though his forces had been able to capture only one of the Five Brothers. There were battles raging all over three more, though Corellia itself was merely blockaded for the time being.

Kamino had not only fallen but utterly destroyed by Veil's forces. It still wasn't clear why or what exactly happened there. All living people in the CIS fleet were in need of medical attention thanks to various mental issues. They were all raving about hearing Kamino scream as it died. The recording from automated systems and droid reports weren't enlightening.

No matter the details, the burning of Kamino was a huge boon for the Confederate propaganda… or would have been if most people outside the CIS were willing to believe it on face value.

By any reasonable standards, the offensives all across the galaxy were an unparalleled success. The Triumvirate put their trust in their new military commanders and they delivered. However, that success had the potential to turn into a two-edged sword.

"I can guarantee that our fellow Council members would push for a swift end of the war – either military or diplomatic." Trest agreed.

"That's just Mai. She won't get enough support for a peace to be a problem." Vombra dismissed that particular concern. "Those pushing to carry on with the attacks right now would be the problem. Both in the Council and Senate."

The Confederate Senate was largely neutered. However it was chock full with people supporting the war. Making them not scream for a continued offensive at this time was going to be troublesome.

"I know where they're coming from." Ilroth snorted. "You two were all ready to order Tresk to jump at either Kamino or deeper in the Core too."

Vombra grumbled. The cyborg was very grumpy since it became clear he hadn't run certain numbers which made the Confederacy's situation crystal clear.

Yes, the offensive achieved a stunning success. The Jedi's unsuccessful coup – and wasn't that thought amusing – further crippled the Republic. Whatever caused GAR and Corellian units to shoot at each other was just the icing on the cake.

By any reckoning, this was the ideal moment to push deeper in the Core and end the war.

There was just one tiny problem – the Confederacy simply couldn't.

"Once Tresk pointed it out, I ran the numbers. I've been doing it on the way here too. They don't lie." Vombra let out an electronic whine. "We've used too much fuel and ammunition. Fleet losses are higher than estimated and we've got more than a Sector Fleet worth of Republic ships unaccounted for in sectors we supposedly control."

"Not higher than we could afford." Hill pointed out.

"True that." Trest agreed.

"We can throw another seven, perhaps eight thousand ships at Kuat. However, doing so would strip our garrisons in the Core and leave Fondor vulnerable. We lack logistic capacity to shift a significant number of ships from other theaters. It would be a mistake anyway. Veil's on the lose with a large fleet, Eriadu's still a major thorn in our side, and we're engaged all over the east side of the galaxy."

"Eight thousand more ships might be enough to reduce Kuat's industry." Hill mused.

"The GAR strategic reserve in the Core remains intact. Even if we take out Kuat, they might still be in position to reduce Fondor in which case we're back at square one." Ilroth countered.

It got back to those three systems – Kuat, Corellia and Fondor. They were the three largest industrial hubs in the galaxy. The places where capital ships could be built with ease. With Corellia neutralized, Fondor and Kuat were the targets both sides had to protect and neutralize in order to win the war. Each of those systems alone accounted for at least fifty percent of the capital ship production for their respective factions.

If both were lost, the Republic would have a slight edge in cruiser production while the CIS would remain ahead in its capacity to build escorts. It was tempting to throw everything at Kuat. If everything went right such a gamble could be a war winner. If it failed, a counter strike at Fondor would spell disaster.

"What will we 'recommend'?" Ilroth asked.

"We need to build up our logistics. Fortify our gains in the Core, build more FOBs and supply depots. Secure the control we've got over most of the galaxy before the enemy comes knocking." Vombra said.

"The Republic needs to kick us out of the Core. We can bleed the, wait for our next major construction cycle to finish and end the war when our new fleets are ready." Hill added. "Meanwhile we can see how much political trouble we can stir in the Republic."

"We're in an agreement then." Ilroth smiled and raised his cup in a toast. "To victory!"

"Victory!" The rest of the Triumvirate chorused.

The galaxy was within reach and soon would be in their grasp.

=RK=

Part 10: The twilight of the Jedi

Passenger area

Republic transport Swift

Hyperspace

Master Yaddle watched like a bird of prey over the younglings she managed to get away from Coruscant. Officially, she and a few Jedi Knights who were with her were teachers on a school trip with their charges. They had all the documents claiming so in order with a few loyal SIB agents back at the capital ready to confirm it if anyone bothered to do in depth check.

The ancient Jedi was glad she succeeded in saving as many of the younglings as she did. In the same time her heart tore at the thought of those who were left behind. All she knew for sure was that about half of the Jedi who were at the Temple when the coup went down managed to get away from the building itself. How many reached the transports waiting to spirit them away of found alternative means of leaving Coruscant, she didn't know.

Yaddle smiled at the younglings. They were the future. Not of the Order, because as far as she was concerned, it was death. The Sith, the Jedi themselves – they were all to blame. They got complacent. Blind. Arrogant.

It was hard to admit it to herself… It was easy to blame the Sith – Sidious, Veil and Dooku. It was easy to resent the Senate for not listening. To hate the galaxy for letting the Jedi fail.

Yaddle couldn't afford to continue with such self-delusions. The younglings counted on her to keep them safe. To train them as proper Jedi. To do that, she had to be brutally honest to herself. The Sith evolved while the Jedi stagnated.

The Jedi had to change too, otherwise the blood of the younglins in her care would be on her hands.

=RK=

Mon Calamari Star Cruiser Liberty

Hyperspace

Kit Fisto frowned at a small pile of knocked out Clones. Beside him, one Gial Ackbar, the ships captain and the Mon Calamari prince were looking between the Jedi and the Republic soldiers with confusion.

"What's Order 66?" Lee-Char finally asked and sheathed his sonic blaster.

"I'll be asking them when they're awake." Fisto grumbled.

"They'll be awakening in the brig." Ackbar sounded far from amused. "I want a marine detail to the bridge. What about the other Clones? There's two companies worth of them on board."

"I'll go have a friendly chat with them too." Fisto smiled grimly.

"Not alone." The Prince shook his head.

"Certainly not. I'll be sending as many marines as we can spare, Master Jedi." Ackbar agreed.

"That might be for the best." Fisto nodded and looked back at the Clones. He knew every single one of them. They had been fighting beside him for months now.

They were his friends.

What in the name of the Force was happening? Wasn't it bad enough that hundreds of Jedi died in the last few hours?!

=RK=

"What do you mean treason?!" Fisto exclaimed.

The rest of the Clones on board were disarmed, most stunned thanks to liberal use of concussion grenades and sonic blasters. Those who still had their wits with them were being asked some pointed questions and weren't particularly shy in answering.

Order 66. It was meant to neutralize all Jedi in case of treason. By refusing to surrender without a damn good explanation, Fisto apparently marked himself for death in the eyes of the Clones.

The Jedi was at loss at the sheer insanity of the idea. The Jedi betraying the Republic? Just what in the name of the Dark Waters possessed the Clones to believe in such madness? What about those who gave the order in the first place?!

Fisto needed information. However, firs the Liberty had to reach friendly space and that was going to be problematic. They were still dodging Separatist patrols, then there was Hutt space to content with…

=RK=

Lower levels

Coruscant

"I don't think we'll be getting out that way, master." Serra Keto glowered at the secluded hangar where their way out of Coruscant waited.

Her master put a placating hand on her shoulder.

"Calm down, Serra. We'll figure something out." Cin Driilag's voice sounded as if he had no care in the world.

"Calm down?! There's a small army waiting for us don there!"

"Down there. Not up here. So we're going to calmly turn around, smile and get away. Then we'll figure out a place to lay low and plan what to do." Cin shrugged.

"What about..." Serra trailed off and looked around.

"We'll need to get the cargo to our clients ASAP or there might be penalties. So we'll need to find a fast freighter or something."

Serra grimaced, but nodded. They were obviously going to play the role of merchants or smugglers with cargo that needed to reach their clients – somewhere that was far away from Coruscant.

Keto looked at the dark street and all the gloomy looking beings minding their own business. If she hadn't met her master on her way out of the Temple with a pack full with holocrons, Serra wasn't sure what she would have done. Neither her Padawan training, nor her missions with her master or even the war truly prepared her to survive on her own without help from either the Jedi Order or the Republic.

It was unpleasant to admit it, but she would have been lost if Cin didn't find her.

=RK=

SIB Safe house

Coruscant

Two crippled men were hiding in off the books apartment on the other side of Coruscant from the Senate. The suburb was a very ordinary and serene place – not a location one would expect to find a disgraced Jedi and a Sith Lord.

If they weren't on the run from practically everyone, Dooku would have been highly amused. Mace Windu of all people was stuck here with him and the way the man felt in the Force meant only one thing – the former Jedi Master was falling to the Dark Side.

That might prove quite useful. Or dangerous. Windu had always been quite insufferable as a Jedi. The Count only hoped that a close connection with the Dark Side would make the man easier to be around. That or drive him around the bend which would be problematic. Without hands, Dooku was at a significant disadvantage. Not to mention that being stuck in the small apartment waiting for their contact to procure a few prosthetic and way off Coruscant was proving highly unpleasant.

On the bright side, Sidious was very dead. Dooku felt his master perish through the Force, Windu confirmed it. Even better, Order 66 was in effect and the Jedi were on the run, thus the Count not only had his vengeance but also a reasonable chance to get away.

After months of captivity, things were finally beginning to look up.

=RK=

Abandoned basement

Cidra City

Malastare

Ki-Adi-Mundi contemplated his situation. He didn't like it at all. Three days ago, his soldiers suddenly attempted to arrest him in the middle of a firefight. As if that wasn't enough, apparently one of the Clones had different idea and simply opened fire. Only the shields built in Mundi's armor saved his life. In the ensuring battle, he had to cut down half a platoon before managing to break contact and vanishing in the war-torn city.

That's how the Jedi Master found himself in the basement under an abandoned food store while the Republic and CIS forces were busy fighting for control of the planet.

He had to dodge both sides for long enough to get to safety – whatever that meant nowadays and then contact the Order so this mistake could be straightened out. After all he certainly never betrayed the Republic. However, first Adi-Mundi needed to find a way off world. He wondered which would be easier – trying to snag a Separatist transport or a Republic one?

=RK=

Part 11: The last Lord of the Sith

Observation lounge

Corellian cruiser Freedom

Hyperspace

The chaotic light of hyperspace was the only thing that could be seen from the former bridge of the Freedom. As a part of her refit, she had outfitted with a proper CIC before we left to deal with Crimson just a few short months ago.

Its strange how long ago that feels. The galaxy is a different place nowadays. The Republic is reeling from repeated blows. The Corellian system had fallen. The Jedi went on the deep end in their hatred of anything Sith, the kriffing hypocrites. Palpatine was dead. My former master was either finally dead or the next best thing because I couldn't sense Zash either. The Jedi were being hunted down like the rabid dogs they are.

Kamino was a dead cursed world just like Malachor V.

I would love to say that I planned it all. That I caused all that chaos.

Yet, Kamino's the only thing I could take credit for. All the rest's nothing more than unintended consequences. At least I got the war I needed. With the Jedi and so called Sith of this era broken, I was finally free to act as I saw fit.

The events of the last few weeks were a great boon for me. Or would have been if it wasn't for a few not so tiny problems. Sooner or later I would need to explain why Kamino was destroyed by a fleet under my command. I already had a few versions of events hashed out with Joanna and Wilhuff. It remained to be seen which one would serve me best.

Then there was the clock I was on. My time was running out fast. We wold soon arrive on Belsavis and the future would be shaped by what we would find there. If the Mother Machine was still operational I could restore my body. Otherwise, I would be forced to possess Shaak Ti who was still kept under sedation in the brig. In that case, I would have to discard most of my current goals and play a long game of conquest and subversion against both the Republic and Confederacy.

Yet, I still could get lucky in which case my primary problem would be explaining the destruction of Kamino. With the whole fleet being mine body and soul, I had good odds of blaming it all on the CIS and their pet Jedi disrupting my Battle Meditation to disastrous effect. There were a few other contingencies we planned too.

Those were all practical considerations. Planning for the future. Plotting. It kept me from thinking about Bo. I couldn't sense her. Barring a miracle my wife was dead. Murdered. Again.

It was tempting to throw away my goals. Lately I found it hard to particularly care about them. What I wanted was to see the galaxy burn. To make it suffer just as I did. To hunt the Jedi and see every last one of them die screaming.

I could sense Joanna's delicious distress, which brought my mind back to the present. We were the only occupants of the observation lounge, sitting on a table next to the windows.

My admiral continued to both loathe and be almost bestowed with me. Breaking her along with everyone else in the fleet did what I needed it – they were all mine, yet retained most of their personality and all their skills. However… after shattering someones mind and then putting it back together… there were consequences which went both ways in this case.

Joanna Holt was blind to the Force. Yet, there was a weak connection formed between us. I didn't need to be in her presence to sense her emotions. What I did to her… It made the little piece of the man I was before becoming a Sith loathe me for it. Made me pity her.

Yet, in the same situation I would have done it again without second thoughts.

"I don't need your pity!" Joanna glared at me.

Ah, yes. The other downside of my stunt – if she was nearby and I wasn't shielding myself, Joanna could feel my emotions too.

"Being pitied infuriates you." I looked at her eyes, who stared back defiantly. Anger, need, fear – she felt it all at once and I was the heart of those emotions.

I stood up and went to Joanna, then cupped her cheek in my hand. She leaned in the touch and sighed in content. Shook in revulsion. Moaned in pleasure.

"You broke me." Joanna whimpered. "I need you." She whined. "I hate you!" The admiral growled. "Make the pain go away..."

"I wish I knew how." I sighed. Experiencing the roller-coaster of her emotions wasn't fun even if I could use them to fuel my powers.

Need. Hatred. Adoration.

"I feel your pain..." Joanna sighed.

"And I yours."

Losing Bo just as I fell in love with her… What was I supposed to do now? Why did I fight for a nation which was never mine, for people who aren't my own? Even the Mandalorians – the closest people to temperament and culture to what I would call mine, weren't really my own.

Why did I care about the Vong turning this galaxy into hell? So that I might be able to return to a woman I once loved? Natarle was in a different reality. She would loathe the man I chose to become all those years ago on Korriban.

Joanna startled me when she pulled me into a hug.

"I could hear you, you know." She muttered. "You aren't alone. If you believe you have nothing left, you're wrong. Know this – we will be with you until our last breath; every single man and woman in this fleet. We are your people, Delkatar."

I could hear the truth ringing in her words. Joanna hated herself for admitting it aloud, yet that truth set her free.

"Yes, you are." A small smile tugged my lips.

"Not long ago you asked me why I fought." Joanna looked me in the eyes. "For my people. For my family and home. And now for you, general. You have a home. A place to belong. Its with us. We will fight for you, no matter the odds. No matter the enemy. Will you fight for us?" Joanna looked up at me with hope shinning in her eyes.