Chapter 34: A Life Day Miracle

The cold stars blurred into streaks of light before snapping back into focus as the Sleepy Cosby shuddered out of hyperspace. I felt that familiar lurch in my chest, not from the jump. I'm used to that, but from what the day represented. Life Day. Star Wars Christmas. Last year's feels so recent.

Despite giving her blessing Mother still seemed deeply unhappy as we departed earlier. Sola assured me that her parents held no such intense devotion to Life day so for her it wasn't a problem.

"Artus Prime," Darth Tempest announced from beside me, her voice a mix of excitement and disdain, "Duke Kesyk's little kingdom." We were Dark Lords first today, Citizens of the empire second.

I nodded, gazing at the planet looming ahead, its surface a swirl of clouds and colors, unsuspecting of our arrival. This was no time for Life Day cheer, not when there were scores to settle and power to seize. Yet somewhere deep inside, where Vex Eras still whispered against the dark shroud of Darth Relic, I felt a twinge. A ghost of warmth for those select few who mattered, their faces flickering like distant stars in the void of my thoughts.

'I choose to only show compassion for those I Love.'

"Prepare for the approach," I said, pushing aside the softness. It had no place here, not today. My hands moved over the worn-out controls of the Sleepy Cosby with practiced ease, the ancient ship responding to my touch as if it understood the gravity of our mission.

"Shall we send Duke Kesyk a Life Day gift?" Tempest jested with a smirk, her eyes alight with cruel anticipation through her mask.

"Only the kind that keeps on giving," I replied.

As the Sleepy Cosby glided toward the orbital defense station, I could almost hear the heartbeat of Artus Prime below us, blissfully unaware of the genocide we were about to unleash. The thrill of the impending chaos sent a surge of adrenaline through me, but I kept calm. After all, The galaxy would no longer think of me as a mere shadow after today.

We approached Artus's orbital defense station. Space around us felt tight, expectant, like the galaxy was holding its breath for the chaos I'd come to deliver.

"Transmission incoming," Darth Tempest called out from her console, her voice a melody through the hum of the ship. "They're asking for clearance codes."

A smirk tugged at the corner of my mouth. Those codes have been burning a hole in my pocket, a gift from dear Ya-ta Kesyk herself, though she was blissfully unaware of her generosity. I pulled them up, fingers tapping deftly on the display to send them through.

"Clearance Codes confirmed," the droid's monotone voice crackled over the comm. "Welcome to Artus Prime Orbital defense grid's main station, Ya-ta Kesyk, and esteemed guests."

"Esteemed guests," Tempest echoed, laughter bubbling in her voice like a cauldron of dark promises. "Did you hear that, Relic? We're practically royalty with these codes."

"Royalty or not," I muttered, pushing down the gnawing anxiety that always came with the brink of destruction. "Let's not overstay our welcome."

I eased the Sleepy Cosby into the docking bay. A forcefield covered opening in the station. This was it the moment just before the plunge. There was no turning back now, and truth be told, I reveled in it. The pressure, the turmoil of it all disappeared in the face of action, replaced by the pure clarity of purpose.

I strode across the Sleepy Cosby's metal grated gangway, my boots clinking softly against the cold steel. The air was thick with anticipation. I paused to glance down at Flipper, the spherical astromech dog droid leisurely, clomping his cute little paws along beside me.

'God, this dog is hype as fuck. It's a bummer I can't feed him treats.'

"Good job, Flip," I murmured, reaching out a gloved hand to pat the gleaming dome head that bobbed with each beep of exertion. "Your astrogation was smoother than a Hutt's lie." The droid trilled a series of high-pitched beeps that could've been mistaken for pride.

'I would die for this little guy.'

With each step closer to the docking bay doors, my heart pounded against my chest like a drum of anticipation. The platform loomed outside the transparent durasteel viewport.

"Alright, let's not keep them waiting." I pressed the panel, and the doors hissed open, revealing the main docking section of Artus Prime's orbital defense platform. I stepped onto the dock, my eyes scanning the area with the efficiency of a predator surveying its domain.

"Come on, Four-Twenty," I called over my shoulder without looking back, knowing she'd be right there, her steps eerily quiet for a droid of her size. Her devotion to our cause especially when it involved slicing through defenses was unwavering, and unsettlingly enthusiastic.

"Looking forward to this, Darth Relic," Four-Twenty replied, her voice tinged with that bizarre excitement unique to her programming. "Chaos is an art, and today, we paint with broad strokes."

'This droid, so eager to do heists.' I laugh.

"Let's make it a masterpiece," I said, the corner of my mouth lifting in a dark smile behind my helmet as we made our way toward the heart of the station. Today, Artus Prime would bear witness to the power of the dark side.

The station's droids gave us as much attention as you'd give a speck of dust on your boot. I almost felt insulted, but it played right into our hands. "You there, assistant droid," I called to one with a less grimy sheen than the others. It turned, its photoreceptors locking onto my helmet.

"Affirmative. How may I be of assistance?" it chirped all servile politeness that grated against my nerves.

"Main control room," I said curtly, not in the mood for pleasantries. The droid beeped an acknowledgement and began to lead the way, oblivious to the storm it ushered in.

We followed the metallic minion through the sterile corridors, each step bringing us closer to our goal. The control room loomed ahead, a high-security vault pulsing with the lifeblood of the station's defenses. It was time for Four-Twenty to do what she did best.

"Four-Twenty, work your magic," I instructed, stepping aside to give her full reign over the console.

With a flourish that seemed almost theatrical, Four-Twenty connected to the terminal. Her fingers danced across the interface with a speed that blurred metal and light. She also shoved one of her fingers into a socket and then moaned like a sicko as she did it. "Hacking is like seduction," she quipped, her voice a disturbing mix of concentration and glee. "It's all about finding the right... touches."

Darth Tempest nodded as if she was learning something important.

'Sola, don't listen to the weird droid.'

"Okay, I'm in. Also did you know that Chiss pussy has no smell?"

'Why is everyone I meet like this? Is it me?' I sighed.

"Okay, Four-Oh-Two-Oh," I muttered, deciding to be more formal with the creepy droid. "Let's turn their orbital defense system into an orbital execution system. Target Artus Prime with its own defensive weapons."

"An unexpected twist for them, sir," Four-Twenty responded, her voice crackling with static-laced mirth. "How deliciously cruel."

Her slender droid fingers pirouetted across the console, initiating command sequences with a grace that betrayed the carnage they would unleash. I could feel the anticipation, pure and dark, in my heart.

"Turbo lasers and ion cannons ready," she announced triumphantly.

"Fire," I commanded, the word tasting like blood in my mouth.

The orbital station shuddered as it obeyed, the hum of charged particles building to a crescendo before lashing out. Through the thick transparisteel viewports, beams of destruction speared down toward the unsuspecting planet below. Hundreds if not thousands of satellites rained hell onto the surface of Artus prime.

Artus Prime had no idea what hit it. One moment, serene in the void, just families enjoying Life Day Dinner. The next, a canvas of fire and smoke, painted by the very systems meant to protect it. I stood there, transfixed by the blossoming chaos, feeling the weight of my actions and yet strangely liberated from them.

"It's strangely beautiful." I looked over at Darth Tempest, who was staring at the genocide through the viewport, her mask hiding her expression.

"Indeed," Tempest remarked, voice a little different sounding through her

helmet.

"Quite the spectacle, sir," Four-Twenty agreed too, tilting her head as if admiring the artistry of our destruction.

We watched Artus Prime burn, its surface alight with explosions that, even at this distance, seemed to roar in my ears. My fingers curled into fists on the railing, a sense of power surging through me as I gazed upon the destruction we'd unleashed.

'Is this what the emperor felt? Power to wield as you please?'

"Sir," Four-Twenty's voice crackled with static, a hint of satisfaction bleeding through her usual protocol droid serenity. "All internal droids are now under our command."

I turned from the viewport, a smirk twisting my lips. The thrill of control sparked within me, chasing away the shadows that clung to the recesses of my mind. "Good work, Four-Twenty." I praised her with her nickname again. She didn't say anything weird this time. Good behavior deserves praise. "Let's see how they enjoy the show."

With a flick of my wrist, screens around us lit up, displaying various angles of the station, droids halting mid-task, then resuming with newfound purpose. They scurried about, instruments of chaos under our directive, unbeknownst to their creators who'd programmed them for servitude.

Laughter bubbled up from within me, a sound so foreign yet fitting for the moment. The irony was too rich, the power too intoxicating. Here I was, the conductor of an orchestra of devastation. Each droid, now an extension of my will, danced to the tune I played, a symphony of ruination for Artus Prime.

'It's so perfect I could almost cry.'

"Make sure none escape," I ordered, eyes returning to the fiery spectacle outside the viewport. "No ship leaves the atmosphere."

"Understood, sir." Four-Twenty's affirmation was punctuated by another explosion, brilliant against the dark tapestry of space.

As the planet below continued to unravel, the pressure that had built within me dissipated like mist. I was free here, among the stars and the dying embers of worlds.

"Four-Twenty pause the barrage for now." The barrage ceased as I leaned back, feeling the weight of satisfaction press against my chest. My fingers stilled on the control panel, a temporary reprieve from the relentless assault. Then, the holo-projector flickered to life, casting a blue glow across the dimly lit control room.

'Took him long enough!' I clicked a button on the console.

Duke Kesyk's figure materialized before me, his Twi'lek features twisted in anger and arrogance, a cocktail of emotions that amused me more than it should. His lips curled into a sneer, slicing through the holographic static with venom in his voice.

"Relic! This is madness! You violate the sanctity of Life Day…"

"Sanctitude?" I cut him off, voice dripping with mockery. "Your sanctity crumbles beneath my feet, Kesyk. You stand defiant, yet your world burns."

His eyes narrowed, the false bravado slipping for just an instant, revealing the fear beneath. It was delicious, that glimpse of vulnerability. He stood taller, though, trying to reclaim his stature even in defeat.

"Enough of these games," he spat. "What do you want?"

"Simple," I said, each word deliberate, heavy with intent. "You and your precious daughter, Ya-ta. Surrender yourselves or watch Artus Prime turn to ash."

'Let's see if he takes the bait or takes the coward's way out.'

He hesitated, and I could almost hear the cogs turning in his head, calculating odds that didn't exist. Duke Kesyk was no stranger to playing the long game, but today wasn't his day to win.

"Very well," he conceded the reluctance in his tone was music to my ears. "We will come."

'What a bad dad.' I muse in my mind.

"Smart choice," I replied, though we both knew it was anything but a choice. The holo-image flickered once more and then faded, leaving me alone with the ghosts of flames reflected in my eyes.

"Prepare for their arrival," I commanded, my voice echoing slightly in the hollow chamber. Today, Artus Prime would learn the true cost of crossing Darth Relic.

"Kesyk won't come quietly," Darth Tempest murmured, her hands flexing unconsciously at her sides. "He might try to slip away."

I snorted, the sound echoing slightly in the chamber. "Let him try. There's no way he's getting by his own array of lasers." My confidence wasn't just bravado. We have the entirety of the orbital defense weapons trained on him.

With my assurances, Darth Tempest's unease receded like a dead jedi's blue Lightsaber.