Prologue – 6 months after Grave Affairs:

"Master Yoda, you can't die."

"Strong am I in the Force... But not that strong..."

The tall, slim woman known as Rynn Mariel aimlessly made her way along the streets of Vectur, the capital city of Varnus, emerging into an expansive marketplace. Here, near the center of Vectur and not far from the massive Royal Palace itself, the streets were bustling with people dressed in brightly colored clothes and robes. They moved in and out of the aisles of wooden stands with blue, green and red awnings. The din of hawkers crying their wares, of butchers selling meat and farmers offering samples of fruit and vegetable all mixed together in a hubbub that filled the crisp, clean air. It was cool outside, the last vestiges of winter having not yet given way to full spring. Rynn took a deep breath of the air, paused at one of the stands to examine the large melons there, brushing back her long, auburn hair with one hand. The fruit seemed quite ripe, but was expensive; she had little coin or credits, having spent most of what she had to gain passage to Varnus. She set the melon back down; food could come later. Her thoughts were on other things. The events of the last month or so all seemed to blur together in her mind. She still wondered exactly why she was doing this, why she was coming here. She remembered it all so clearly...

"So, big sister, where are we going today?"

Rynn looked down at her brother, who was peering at her from underneath his long brown bangs. Actually he was about as tall as she was, though at seventeen he was four years younger than she herself. Jen had always admired her, always looked up to her as his role model. It wasn't always easy to be that, she had to admit.

She strapped the safety belt around her and started the small hovercar they owned. "Just another trip into the city," she said, starting the craft forward.

After the Empire had suddenly come, taking their parents and everything they'd owned three years before, the two had had to make it on their own. They'd been able to escape, seen the results of what the Imperials had done to their home. They'd had to travel from place to place, booking passage on whatever means they could to make their way across the sector, finding temporary jobs until they had enough money to move on. Trying to stay one step ahead of the Imperials they knew were behind them, looking for them. They said their parents were Rebels; they'd had sympathies, had been against the hostile takeover of government the Empire had instilled. But the Empire's wrath had caught them. Now Rynn and Jen were on the run, looking for some place of refuge. Of course, they'd considered joining the Rebels themselves... But that way lay the same fate as their parents, only closer, more imminent.

Now they had to find another job here on Fornous so they could keep traveling. Word was that Imperial activity was low here; they shouldn't have much trouble. Of course, she had learned how to fight, how to hold her own before their parents had been taken, but facing a squad of Imperial Stormtroopers wasn't quite in her league. She didn't even have a weapon, save her own hands and feet. Enough perhaps to stop a would-be thief, but not an armored soldier. But hopefully she wouldn't have to use it here. Hopefully.

She moved away from the fruit stand, her thoughts far from food. She didn't want to remember... But the thoughts just kept coming on their own, against her will. She shook her head to clear it, but nothing changed.

"When can we stop running?" Jen asked suddenly.

Rynn looked over at her brother, feeling a twinge of sadness. She hesitated before answering. "I... I don't know," she said finally. "We've got to find someplace safe."

"You've kept us safe so far," Jen said, pride in his voice. "Being able to tell when the trouble's coming so we can avoid it. I'm glad I've got a Jedi for a sister."

"I'm not a Jedi," she said, but smiled anyway.

"You could be one. If we could just find somewhere you could learn."

"Maybe. But first we've got to make sure the Imps don't find us. After this, we should be all right..."

Rynn walked through the throng of people in the square, barely noticing them. Ahead, towering over most of the cities' other skyscrapers, was the massive Royal Palace of Varnus. She'd lived in Epsilon Sector all her life, but only recently had she heard of this place. Of this new chance, of hope. No more running. It was calling, beckoning.

A new life. They said this place was a refuge for Jedi, for those running from the turmoil plaguing the galaxy. From the Empire. A chance to become a Jedi, a guardian and protector of truth, justice, the innocent. Of people like what she and her brother had been.

"Oh no!! They're here! The Imps are here!" Jen shouted.

Rynn closed her eyes, tried to shut out the pain.

"Rynn.." Jen looked up at her, his eyes weak.

"Jen?" she asked. Her vision was blurry from the tears filling her eyes. She felt them run down her cheeks and drip to the floor. With a piece of cloth she'd ripped from her dress she covered the blaster wound in his stomach.

"Rynn... Promise me... you'll learn to use the Force... Promise me you be... a Jedi. You have a great… gift. Please, make me proud…."

Rynn felt another tear roll down her cheek as she stood there.

"Ma'am? Are you all right?"

She opened her eyes. An elderly man was there, looking at her concernedly. "I'm fine," she managed. Assuring the man she was okay, she cleared her thoughts. She was just delaying the inevitable. She looked up at the massive edifice in front of her. The thought of what she had to do sent her nerves reeling. She took at deep breath.

Well, enough of this. She'd dawdled long enough. Time to do what she came for. Settling her nerves, she approached the huge stairway that led up to the main entrance. The palace was a massive pyramidal structure blended with more modern architecture, and made an imposing site as the noon sun bore shone down on it. Slowly she ascended, approaching the entrance, each step moving her away from her past and nearer to an uncertain future. But you have to go on with this, she thought. As she reached the top, she moved into one of the side entrances beside the main doors, where a small security station was set up to check visitors. A young woman with blonde hair that didn't quite reach her shoulders saw her and smiled.

"Hello," the attendant said. "What can I do for you?"

Rynn returned the smile. "My name is Rynn Mariel. I'm here to see about joining the New Imperium. I'd like to speak with the Grand Master about training to become a Jedi."

"How nice," the woman said in a cheerful voice. "We do have a lot of volunteers, though they usually don't walk right in the front door. Unfortunately, the Grand Master is not here presently. He is..." The attendant checked something in front of her. "Away, on business." She gave an apologetic smile.

A perturbing , and elusive answer, at the least. "I... see. Well, who could I talk to then? I'm sorry, I don't really know how to go about this."

"Okay, it's no problem. I'll just set you up a testing and counseling appointment. Leave us your information and we'll get back with you when we can."

"What do you mean?" Rynn asked, feeling a bit out of the loop.

"Well, they'll have to test you for Force-sensitivity, interview you, set things up. It's pretty routine. You're basically starting a new life here, making a new home. It could take a while. I suggest you find a place to stay for a few days, spend some time around Vectur, enjoy the sites. We'll contact you. That is, if you really want to go through with this."

"I do," Rynn told her, shaking her head. It was obvious she wasn't being taken seriously. With all the people out there who dreamed of using the Force and becoming a Jedi, she could almost understand. She grinned. "But I don't think you understand. I am Force-sensitive." She reached out with the Force, with what she'd been able to learn on her own, and the attendant's datapad lifted into the air.

"Oh," the woman said quietly. "Well, that makes a bit of difference. Please, come right in."

His footsteps echoed throughout the empty corridor, booted soles striking the metal floor with a distinct clank. His black robe rustled softly behind him as he moved, his dark eyes surveying every crevice and passageway around him, watchful of any movement. This ancient space station, constructed in the early days of the Old Republic, had been abandoned for centuries. Nevertheless, many of its ancient devices were still operational, and the few dim glowlamps spaced along the corridors offered sparse lighting. The dimly-lit hallway wasn't any hindrance to his Force-enhanced vision, however. And, he knew, it was inhabited. At least, by one being: the man he was looking for.

Coming up to the end of the passageway, he emerged in a large circular chamber with a high, vaunted ceiling. Several yellow glowlamps hung on the walls over the other three passageways into the room. At the other end of the chamber stood another dark robed figure. He gave a slight smile, reassured at the weight of the sword under his cloak. One of the station's defense systems was in creating a dampening field around all its occupants, rendering all energy weapons harmless. Blasters, as well as lightsabers. Another high technology that had vanished through the cracks of neglect during the Old Republic's corrupt latter days. Amazing that it still worked, but he had a way past it.

Across from him the other being, a mid-sized, bald man with tanned skin and dark eyes smiled. It didn't do anything to make his ugly visage look better. The man was actually Melgus, a supposed Dark Jedi Master who had made this ancient station his hermitage. What he'd been able find out was that a number of hushed operations went on there with the station as some kind of staging or meeting point. Melgus was the man he was looking for.

"This isn't tourist season," Melgus said in a deep, rough voice. "What are you doing here?"

Xar came to a stop in the center of the room and shook his head. He wasn't in the mood for idle conversation, nor to reveal anything about himself to this man. "Where is Akira?" he asked gravely.

For a moment confusion seemed to appear on the man's dark face, but it quickly vanished as he shook his head. "Don't meddle in things you don't understand," he warned in a grim tone.

Xar's eyes narrowed. It had taken him a long time to find a lead that had actually come to fruition, to some tangible evidence of Akira's existence. There had been painfully little to go on, but he had been very resourceful in his studies. This man had ties to the group Dasok Krun had led during the attack on House Ar’Kell. He was the liaison with the Dark Brotherhood’s Dark Council. He knew something about what Xar sought. Now it was time to try another ploy. Suddenly he dropped the Force mask which had been hiding the vast majority of his Force power, something that a trained Jedi learned how to sense. It not only told someone how powerful another user was, but allowed one to identify that person's identity, through time, by the tale-tale traces it gave off. Now he dropped the guard, revealing his full Force imprint to the Dark Jedi across from him. He was mildly pleased by the reaction.

Melgus' eyes widened in surprise. So. He could also sense Xar's True Force power, not the Dark Side-clouded perversion that Melgus broadcast around him. Interesting. "I suggest you tell me what I want to know," Xar said more authoritatively.

For a second the man seemed to pause indecisively. Then suddenly he gave a cold grin. "You are a Varnusian," he said, giving a satisfied nod. "I can tell by your accent. You had me for a second. Now I understand; you’re not Altarin’Dakor." He shook his head. "No, I don't feel like talking about that right now. Why don't you leave now and keep yourself in one piece?"

The man's face was set, now. Xar had failed to trick him into revealing his hand early. Now there was only one other choice. "Not an option," he said. "In any case, maybe this will help change your mind." Reaching inside his robe, Xar pulled out his sword and brought it up to bear. Its curved dark metal blade coldly reflected the light. "I know about your little operations, Melgus. It is over."

"Not quite, my friend." Throwing his cloak back, the other man pulled out a similar blade. Xar gave a grunt of surprise. It looked like there would be a fight, after all. Melgus brought his blade up and began moving forward.

"Still, one thing. You know my name, but who are you? Who can wish for death so flagrantly?"

"My name… Is Kerensky." Xar stated. He stepped forward into a ready stance. He wasn't going to explain himself to this lowlife. Especially not to someone he was about to kill.

"Ah, how interesting. I'll be sure to put it on your grave!"

"Then come and die!" Xar urged, bringing his blade up eagerly.

Both men ran forward. Melgus swung first, and Xar blocked the clumsy attack, their blades meeting with a distinct metal crack. For a moment they moved back and forth, making small strikes, testing one another out. Then Xar attacked with a vengeance. He moved in swiftly, striking on one side, then the other. The Dark Jedi met him stroke for stroke, then suddenly moved in, locking blades, and pushing Xar's down and to the side. The man was strong, that much was certain. Then Melgus' hand disappeared beneath his cloak. A vibroblade flashed back out, striking at Xar's face. He drew back, but too late. Xar felt the blade slice through the skin on his cheek and cut into the bone as the blade passed though. Screaming, he pushed back, disengaging, trying not to touch the deep cut across the side of his face.

"Ah... It hurts?" the man snickered evilly. "Not as much as when I'm done with you."

"Aargh..." Xar grunted, wild-eyed. He reached up to his cheek, wiped the profusely bleeding cut, licked the blood. "You're dead..." Gritting his teeth, he came back in and attacked with all of his might. Melgus struck high, locking against Xar's blade and moving in again with the vibroknife, but Xar deftly kicked the weapon out of his hand and swung his sword down, pushing Melgus' down with the momentum and cutting across the man's arm as he moved out of range. Melgus hissed in pain and gave a curse, then moved in, but Xar slid back out of reach. He would let this rat come to him. Holding his blade up higher than normal, gripping the bloody handle tight, he smiled. A grimacing Meglus moved in, striking down hard, but Xar gave way and dropped down. Blocking the strike high, he ducked down and slid past the Dark Jedi, bringing his sword across to slice across the man's middle as he passed. Melgus' strike passed behind him and scraped the floor as he bent over, gasping in pain. Xar stepped back, bringing his guard back up, and watched the man warily.

Melgus turned, looking down in astonishment at the cut across his midsection. Xar hadn't struck too deeply, going through the fabric of his cloak and clothes it probably hadn't cut more deeply than two centimeters. But, to the apparent surprise of Melgus as well as Xar's, when the man removed his hand, under the thin streak of blood was a thin, white line of light. Xar met eyes with Melgus again. He knew what it was. Energy, the Dark Side power embodied in the Dark Jedi Master. Realization painted Melgus' face as well, then turned into a mask of rage.

Melgus gave a raspy breath, but surprisingly, he attacked again, a growing roar emanating from his throat. He didn't have a chance. He moved in, striking wildly and clumsily. Xar brought his blade up, blocking, then pushed the man's blade to the side, breaking his double-handed grip on the hilt. Then Xar brought his blade around and struck down, slicing the man deeply across his body. Melgus staggered, a wild look on his face, the shock too much for him to even scream. A much wider slash of energy crossed his front.

Xar swung his blade down hard, knocking the man's sword to the floor, then kicked it off into the distance. He slowly spun as Melgus fell to his knees, turned quickly, and with one clean stroke cut the man's head off. The severed head flew off, bouncing on the floor, and the headless body fell forward and spilt Dark Force energy onto the floor in a torrent. Yelling in surprise, Xar turned, dropping his sword, and ran from the room as the storm exploded behind him.

Xar dropped into the cockpit seat of his ship, the Black Star, and threw the ship into forward, calling himself nine kinds of fool for what he'd done. Idiot, you just killed your only lead! he berated himself. Bringing the ship up to full speed, he sped away from the abandoned space station. Behind, lightning struck between the latticework corridors connecting the different sections, exploding in blue Force energy. Leaving the storm behind, he took the ship forward into hyperspace, and was gone.

Sector Admiral Ryskar "Scourge" Dlarit sat behind his desk, shuffling through pile of official documents littering the surface. One of his first days as the new Speaker, or Diktat, of the New Imperium Senate. Six months had passed since Xar had filled in the position for the first term, doing a more than ample job of guiding the NI through its fledgling stages and keeping the various groups that comprised the NI from each other’s throats. But it had been more of an interim position for the man, and he’d opted to end after six months seeing how quickly the New Imperium had gotten on its feet. Now, with the second formal election done, Ryskar found himself in the position of Diktat, this time for a two-year term, along with a mountain-sized pile of paperwork and agendas in his lap that he hadn’t known existed a week before.

The Senate was in an uproar over the "incident" at Caledon, and rightly so. What in the galaxy could wipe out everything in a star system like that? Visions of the Death Star swam in his head, horrible visions of Alderaan being blown to smithereens he'd seen in the news. But the Death Stars were long gone, and they would have been able to tell from the debris if it had been another one. Besides, why way out here in the middle of nowhere, in the dredges of the galaxy? Nobody but the locals would even notice, except for the NI. And then there was the odd timing, just before the NI was about to make its final strike on the Blackhawk Pirate Clan. But why destroy pirates anyway, and why so completely thoroughly? It just didn't add up, and it was making the Senate jittery, as well. If something was out there that could empty entire star systems out, it obviously posed a clear and present danger to the NI, especially since nobody knew what it even was. Senators were bringing up the reports that Commander Maarek Stele had made six months ago when he'd reportedly seen a ship larger than anything ever encountered in the Danube System, only two Quadrants away. The thought of alien powers on such a scale to make the NI seem insignificant sent a chill of fear through Ryskar. But if such powers existed, why hadn't they revealed themselves to the rest of the galaxy? What was the agenda? It just didn't add up. "If I could just get some answers here," he mused aloud.

"Perhaps I could shed some light," a strange, deep voice answered him. Ryskar flicked his eyes up to the doorway, which framed the form of a dark haired man staring at him with a slight smile on his face.

"I'm not accepting visitors right now," Ryskar put in. "Come back later."

"Oh, but I think you'll be interested in what I have to tell you," the man began. Suddenly he stepped to the side, admitting Ryskar's secretary Brucmack into the room. Brucmack took a wide-eyed glance at the newcomer, then turned to Ryskar. "Sir, I'm sorry! I don't know how he got in here! We didn't even see him."

Ryskar waved the man off. "It's all right, Bruc. One moment, then. What can I do for you?" he asked the still-grinning man standing beside the doorway.

The man moved forward and stopped in front of the desk, shaking his head. "I'm afraid you're mistaken, Diktat. It's what I can do for you."

"Who are you?"

"My name is Moren Zein. I am an Ambassador, for my associates, though they choose to remain anonymous at this time."

Ryskar frowned, confused. Unnamed? "An Ambassador? Well why didn't you go through the normal channels? May I see your identification and pertinent information?"

"Of course." The man procured a small datapad and slid it to Ryskar, who took it and studied it briefly. Indeed, he seemed to have all the required criteria met for NI Ambassadors for the Senate. And there was a brief, basic readout for this Zein and the species he supposedly represented. They supposedly held territory in Delta Sector, in the Unknown Regions away from NI space.

"I haven't heard of this race before," he told the man.

"We are a relatively new species to this part of space," the man replied.

Ryskar frowned again. "We? But you're human." The species on the datapad showed a group of reptile-looking aliens.

Moren Zein gave a small laugh. "Nevertheless I am their duly appointed Ambassador. I have full authority to speak for them."

"Okay," Ryskar agreed, deciding to let it pass for the sake of argument. "So what do you need?"

"I told you, it's what you need," the man replied. "My associates are very interested in the number of species and governments in this area, and are very excited about meeting you and establishing relations with your government."

Ryskar nodded idly, flipping through the data on the handheld datapad he held. No information on the race was included, and no images. Strange that this man would come so under-prepared. Unless there was something he wanted to keep hidden. But if they wanted an alliance, like it seemed this man was suggesting, he was going to need a lot of information. "Well, this is all well and good," he said, "but if it's an alignment you're seeking, I am afraid I'm going to need some concrete information, and for you to go through the proper channels this time. The Senate is quite busy at the moment over trouble in the Caledon System..."

"Ah yes, so I've heard," the man replied, an amused look on his face. "I wouldn't call it trouble, though, not anymore. You were having problems with those pirates, were you not?"

"Yes. Your point being?"

The man smiled. "Your pirate problems have been solved. You needn’t worry about them anymore.”

Ryskar frowned. “What are you saying?”

“As a token of our goodwill, we chose to eliminate this threat for you. To prove our intentions, we destroyed the Caledon System and your enemies within it. We have many services to offer you, Speaker. I believe you would be interested in what we have to offer?"

The datapad fell from Ryskar's limp fingers and clattered to the desktop with a clang. As he looked on in wide-eyed disbelief, Zein took the datapad, turned, and left the office.

Moments, later, Ryskar recovered, and stared up at his befuddled Secretary. "Call a Senate meeting… I… think we've got a problem..." he managed.

Grathkar Korealis sat in his command center, inside the secret main base of the Eyes of Elfodd. The name, he reflected, meant somewhat less that it had before. When his fleet was strong, his organization a massive tide against the pathetic government that called themselves the New Imperium, then the Eyes had been unstoppable. Now, countless struggles and confrontations with the blasted NI had dropped them down to almost nothing. This base and a small assortment of craft were all the resources he had left, along with the short-handed crew that was a mere shadow of his once-mighty force. Curse that Mathis Organa, anyway. Would that he had died on Alderaan with his relatives, where all of his race should have been when the planet was blown into oblivion. As he would be, once Grathkar's new plan was implemented. His material and personnel losses were setbacks, but problems he could rectify, as he would Organa's petty existence. He had only one thought at the moment: Revenge. The Elfodd Contingency would occur, of course; nothing could stop that from happening. But before it did, he would see Organa in his grave.

Grathkar shuddered slightly, reminiscing of his last confrontation with that sinuous, slimy maggot. His recently-healed wounds reminded him how close he'd come. But Grathkar knew his life wasn't the important issue. The Contingency would occur, by the Core, and right under the New Imperium's nose! There they sat, gorging themselves on other’s belongings, their territory, oblivious to the fact that their very destruction was imminent. How could they be so blind? But, of course, they were the Lesser. Only Grathkar knew the truth about the Elfodd Contingency. And when it occurred, he would be all-powerful, an Emperor in his own right. Immortal. It was written that way.

"Sire."

Glancing throughout the command room, seeing his crewmen hard at work at their stations, he smiled slyly. Yes, his new plan was flawless. With the Scepter of Karanishma in his hands, stolen from under his enemies' noses half a year earlier, he could finish them off for good. The Scepter allowed a Jedi to see nearly anything in the galaxy, perhaps further, and glimpse the present, the past, the future, all ten times clearer than one could do on his own. It was like comparing the vision of a blind worm to that of a predatory hawk in the skies. He liked that analogy. Of course, Grathkar himself couldn't use the Force, but that was no problem. Soon he would rule more than the NI ever hoped to attain. He, Grathkar Korealis, would be an Emperor. His destiny lay before him, and nothing would stop it from happening.

"Sire," one of the crew repeated, finally attracting Grathkar's attention. "There's been a security breach. Someone is inside the compound, and is heading this way!"

Grathkar swore. Could Organa have found him already? Did he not know that to enter the domain of the Emperor of Elfodd meant certain death? A laughable event. Organa was his. Ignoring the jabbering crewman, Grathkar turned toward the entrance. A scuffle could be heard outside, the sound of blaster fire penetrating through the closed door. Then, abruptly, the doors parted.

Several strange-looking, armored men filed in, sweeping their blaster rifles across the room, covering all its occupants. Grathkar watched with amusement as they moved in to take the crew in the back of the room, as two more men covered him and the two crew nearest him with their blasters.

Then another man entered, immediately attracting Grathkar's full attention. The man had short blonde hair, and a clean-shaven faced that was crisscrossed with strange tattoos. His cold eyes came to rest immediately upon Grathkar. He spoke.

"Grathkar Korealis, your time is up."

"How dare you barge in here unannounced!" Grathkar retorted. "How did you find this place? It's a secret." Not anymore, but he wasn't really interested in the question anyway. Strange man, he noted, but not all bad. He had good taste in clothing, at least, wearing a loose, beige tunic and comfortable-looking pants. Grathkar suddenly remembered; he needed to buy some more gum at the market the next time he went. He wished he had something to chew.

"Your question is irrelevant," the man retorted. Rude, though, despite seemingly good taste. The man drew himself up to this full height and glared down at Grathkar. His voice held a strange accent, one Grathkar couldn't place. Another intriguing aspect.

"Master Turles says that you have the Scepter of Karanishma," the tattooed man said firmly. His words held a strange accent that Grathkar couldn’t match. "Where is it?"

So, they wanted his prize, eh? Probably Force-Sensitive, the buggers. Well, they could just jump into a black hole if they wanted that from him. "Nope, I don't feel like talking today," he said in a lighthearted voice.

"Is that so?" Blindingly fast, the man whipped out a shiny weapon from his waist holster. Grathkar's two men tried to move, but the man quickly raised the gun and fired. The weapon made little noise, and fired projectiles, not blaster bolts. A mass driver, Grathkar thought with interest. The first shot blew through the crewman's heart, killing him instantly and spinning his body around. Then, turning, the man sent another shot through the other man's stomach. The man cried out, crouching down, then slowly sank to his knees and down to his face. Blood splattered the console behind him.

The intruder held his gun up and pointed it directly at Grathkar's face. "Where is the Scepter of Karanishma?" he asked firmly. Grathkar didn't answer. He knew death was staring at him, and strangely, knowing the man had the power of death over him, he found it to be pretty darn hilarious. He began laughing, softly at first, then harder, unable to stop, tears streaming down his cheeks. His mad cackles reverberated throughout the command center. Stang, he wanted some gum.

The man fired.

Carefully replacing his weapon, Kletian turned away from the bloody mess and brain matter splattered all over the console and screen behind the dead man. The faceless body still convulsed wildly. What a madman he'd been.

Kletian turned to his subordinates, who lowered their gazes in respect to him. "We'll do it the hard way, then. Tear this place apart until you find the Scepter. It's here, all right. Master Turles wants it as soon as possible." He turned his head, glancing back at the mess on the controls behind him. "Do not fail..."

* * *

Varnusian Productions Presents:

Grand Master's Office

Royal Palace, Vectur

Planet Varnus, Epsilon Sector

1040 Hours

Deputy Grand Master Mathis Organa stood relaxed beside the Grand Master's desk. Icis Novitaar, the Traveler, stood by the corner, invisible, watching.

Xar Kerensky, sitting in his usual spot behind the desk, set down a now-empty glass of liquid on the desk and folded his hands in front of him, watching Organa. He seemed in an even less jovial mood today. In fact, he seemed more serious than normal. His dark gray eyes watched Organa intently, the imposing gaze enhanced by the new, long scar cutting across his cheek. Xar had returned from his latest expedition with that little memento, refusing to have it removed. The man was losing it, Icis knew. Someone had to bring him back, before the whole NI suffered from it. It might not be easy, convincing the man, as he always thought he was right. And why not; he’d been nothing but successful so far, even during his brief tenure as Diktat of the New Imperium. But if the work of reaching Xar could be done, Icis knew to whom the task would probably fall upon.

From his cloak pocket the long-haired, almost rough-looking Mathis produced a datapad which he laid in the center of Xar's desk. Icis noted the demeanor of the man, outwardly calm yet having an aura of danger and unpredictability around him, like a wild animal pretending to be tame. At least for the time being. He held an odd half-grin on his face as he looked down at the man seated at the desk. A grin he always bore. But at the moment, despite the grin, his expression looked downright dour. Probably still upset at the Grand Master's latest little excursion; he hadn't told anyone where he was going or when he'd be back, and it had nearly driven his subordinates over the edge.

"Here are the latest recruits, along with the Jedi Knight promotions that I made while you were gone. Only two for the latter, but they're good ones." He slid the datapad over to Xar, who picked it up and seemed to study it. A moment later he sat it back down, facing the Deputy. Icis moved near the desk for a closer look, his Force-enhanced vision picking out clearly the small, flat screen.

"Who is she?" Xar asked. The screen held an image of a striking woman with red hair and very green eyes. Icis supposed most men, including himself if he hadn't lost his love long ago, would find her quite attractive.

Leaning over, Organa studied the screen, tapped a few keys. "That's Rynn Mariel. Joined a few days ago. She picks up quickly, since she already had some knowledge when she joined, simply walked in through the front door, so to speak. We tested her power level, and it's respectable. She learns fast, faster than most."

Xar nodded. "Reasons for joining?"

Organa shrugged. "She says it's to become a Jedi, as if we didn't already know that. A guardian of peace, justice, and the innocent; that sort of thing. The real reason? From what we can infer, she lost someone close, a friend or relative maybe."

"Join the club."

"Right."

"What about the Knights?"

The DGM hit a few keys, and the screen changed to a graphic text readout. "Two of them. Valuable additions. Malik Raven, recruited from the Dark Lightning Strike Fleet, you know, and Atridd Xoan, home planet unknown."

"Unknown?"

"Not even he knows." Organa reached up to scratch his ear.

"Bring him up."

Organa complied, and a new dossier file came up. On the screen was the image of a large, impressive-looking black man. It only showed his top half, dressed in dark clothes and a robe, but the man clearly had a build about him. His head was bald, except for a thin mustache that went from his top lip down to his chin, ending in sharp points. The figure looked very distinctive, and impressively dangerous. The most striking aspect of the man was his eyes, an intense, fearsome look in them. They were a deep blue, almost violet.

"Are his eyes really that color?" Xar asked, mimicking Icis' thoughts.

"Hmm... He wears colored lenses, I think," Organa replied.

"Interesting."

"He's a really valuable addition, very experienced. You may have met him before, when he joined, but he's opened up a lot more in the past six months you’ve been busy as Diktat. A good man to train with."

"Yes, perhaps I will. I have been planning on working with the Knights and some of the newer members..." Xar was interrupted as a new person strode into the office. A mid-sized, robed man with a strange look in his eyes and wildly unkempt hair, Vynd Archaron was the new Warden of the Jedi Division on the Council, since Nico Flygras had been promoted after his difficult mission to find Kurt. Now Nico was helping run the DLSF after D’larit became the new Diktat.

Icis studied Vynd Archaron as he entered. He had been chosen by Xar to personally take the mysterious Jedi they'd revived from stasis, guide him back to health, teach him Basic and bring him into the Force-sensitive aspects of the Society, and generally make him an acceptable citizen. Icis shook his head in disbelief, even after all this time. What had Xar been thinking, letting Vynd take care of him? The man was clearly insane.

Icis scowled, an expression that didn't lessen as the man didn't even bow in front of his superiors. He actually had to concentrate to keep his thoughts and emotions masked, less he might be noticed or cause his mask to falter. The sight of this man could do such things to him. It was strange; after all, Icis’ official position was the man's Attaché... unfortunately. But, truth be told, he couldn't stand the man, and he knew Archaron didn't hold any more liking for him, either. In fact, he'd tried to get a replacement, but Xar had been adamant that Icis keep a position which would make him inconspicuous yet leave him few duties... to Archaron's apparent dismay. But his Force Mask held, and the man didn't even notice him as he stood there purposefully.

"Greetings, Grand Master," the man drawled out. "I am here, as you requested."

"Good morning, Vynd," Xar waved the man forward. "So, what do you have for me today?"

"How about a knuckle sandwich, chump?"

"What?" Xar blinked.

Archaron cleared his throat. "Um… Just kidding, Grand Master, sir."

Xar just stared blankly at the other man. Several seconds later, as if by some delayed reaction, Organa burst out laughing. He slapped the desktop and leaned over, holding his middle. Xar turned, arching an eyebrow. "Please."

"Hey, where's your sense of humor?" Archaron said mock-seriously. Icis shook his head; he didn't find it very funny either.

"I left it in my other robe," Xar said, drumming his fingers on the desktop.

"You're not wearing a robe," Archaron pointed out.

"Get on with it, Vynd!"

Archaron shrugged. "Well then. Really, as you asked, I'm here to report about the Jedi... er... Bren, as he's called now."

"So he has chosen a name for himself? No memories coming back yet, then," he stated more than asked.

Archaron shook his head. "Nope. Well, he says he has dreams. Flashbacks, that sort of thing. Totally unfamiliar to him, though. He doesn't understand them a bit."

"A mind probe showed nothing either?" Mathis asked hopefully. One method by which they had originally hoped to revive the man's memories was to deeply probe his mind with the Force to try and reach those locked-up memories. While it worked on some patients, no one in known history had ever been in circumstances like the ones this man had. The worst part about the situation, from the Jedi’s historical point of view, was that everything this man had learned about the Force, at least ten thousand years ago, tapping into a Force neither Light nor Dark... All was gone, and completely useless to them now. Of course, Icis thought, he could have simply told them everything about the True Force... But no, it wasn't the right time yet. They weren't ready. Xar and Mathis had only begun to use it, and had barely scratched the surface of what was truly possible. Icis continued to listen in, and watch the conversation unfold, though he moved back toward the wall and the bookcase there.

"Afraid not," Archaron replied to Mathis’ question. "Though Doctor Vannik - who's still treating him a bit, checkups, that sort of thing - still believes his memory will return in time. But there is good news, too. He's learned Basic - or most of it, I guess. Which of course, is easy to learn, but still, he learns fast. Very fast. And he's got this weird accent... Anyway, as you know, he regained his vision a couple weeks after being revived, so that's fine now. As for everything else... He's learning... About us, about the NI, about the galaxy as a whole. This hasn't been easy, I'll tell you that much. He had general knowledge, feelings, tendencies... but he knew nothing about what the galaxy is like nowadays. Although I suppose some things might be familiar to him..."

"What about the Force?" Xar put in.

Archaron gave a short laugh. "By the Core, man, he's learning as fast as we can show the stuff to him. His power level - his strength in the Force - seems to be rising, too. Refraining from teaching him stuff he's not supposed to know, I really can't show him anymore. He's learned all I can teach him. Maybe he needs to move on up, I think you'd find it interesting to work more closely with him."

Xar nodded. "I will stop by and spent some time with him now and again. Hopefully get him to trust me, to gain his confidence. You are right, there."

"That was my professional recommendation, by the way," Archaron said with a wide, toothy grin.

Organa gave him a wary look. "Vynd, now come on... No tricks, right? You haven't been teaching this guy any of your antics, have you?"

"My dear Mathis! I'm hurt that you'd even imply such a thing!" the man said in feigned surprise. Icis shook his head; he could read the man like a book. But then, he could read most people. Archaron, surprisingly, used to be in the Sith Order – though such distinctions were moot at this point anyway. He’d also been weapons master of the old House Ar'Kell. He'd been quite stable then, or at least seemed that way. Then he'd come up with the Ar'Kell Academy, and even before it was finished he left and went there to stay and study. He'd promptly disappeared then, for several months. When he finally came back and was welcomed by Xar with open arms, he'd changed, saying he was a Krath, had a completely different attitude and personality, and often hinted at the 'scars' and effects that Frigg's 'creatures' had inflicted on him. Whatever had happened, it hadn't been pleasant. Icis had heard tales of the Mortigena... the death beast that preyed on Frigg's primitive, native tribes by stealing their life energy... There had only been one living survivor of Ar'Kell that had encountered a Mortigena. Kurt. But he was gone now, as well, defected to some force they had no knowledge about whatsoever. Icis had his hunches, of course, but he wasn’t yet ready to reveal all of that.

Archaron continued indignantly... "You shouldn't imply such things. To think that you'd imply I have been teaching my little secrets to your test subject. You could have just said it outright." Suddenly he broke into a wild grin. "He's actually enjoyed gleaning the finer points of humor from me," he said.

"All right, enough about that," Xar interrupted, not looking at all amused. "That is all I needed, except, well... Is he... all right?" he asked concernedly. "Is he mentally healthy?"

Archaron gave another laugh. "Quite stable. In fact, as sane as I am, I would say." Suddenly he gave an unnatural shake of his head; his left eye blinked several times. Then with a cocky smile and a bow, he turned and made his way out of the office as quickly and purposely as he'd entered, leaving the two men at the desk staring after him.

Xar dropped his head. "I hate my life," he moaned, a painful expression on his face.

"Stang. I know what you mean," Organa replied. "You really shouldn't have left him with Archaron. I hope he'll be okay." He didn't say which one, but he obviously meant the recovered Jedi. Archaron wasn't okay, that much Icis was sure of.

"Heh. Who knows what we will do if he has picked up some of Vynd's habits," Xar replied. "As for... 'Bren' as he calls himself now... I should go check up on him when I do the same for our new recruits and Knights. As you know, I like to spend some time with them personally, fine-tuning their abilities and getting them to know me and to trust me. If they don't know me, they will not be loyal to me; they will only trust those directly over them."

"Of course. But as Grand Master you can't be taking all of your time up in regular duties. You have to look after more broad affairs."

Xar nodded. "I know that, from trying to steer this crazy ship we call the NI the past six months.” Suddenly he raised an eyebrow. “Hmm. You would not be referring to my recent absence, would you?" he asked quizzically.

"No, not just now. Frankly sir, I don't really want to start that conversation."

"Ah, I see," Xar said flatly. "I knew it would come up. Are you trying to avoid an argument over the issue? To agree to disagree, as it were?"

Organa shook his head. "No, but it is one thing we will have to discuss eventually. Some of us are starting to worry."

"Worry? About what? You think I am having problems leading?"

"No, but I am concerned about your leaving without even telling us where you are or when you would be back..." Organa began. “Oh well, there, I’ve said it.”

"What I do is my business, Mathis. My missions are my own. I cannot have people following me around all the time."

"What do you expect, with already two failed assassination attempts? You’re our leader. You’re too important to risk on missions."

"I can take care of myself."

"I know you can. Stang, you're the most powerful Jedi I know of! But what if you're jumped by just one too many next time? What if an assassin's bullet finds its mark when you don't even expect it? You're not immortal."

"I know that!" Xar snapped. "But what do you want, a squad of Stormtroopers surrounding me everywhere I go watching my back? Fighter cover from the air? Do I have to order tables for twenty now at restaurants, for me and my bodyguards?"

"You're exaggerating," Organa said, shaking his head.

"Am I? Can you tell me you would not have people following me all the time?"

"Two guards," Organa interjected, "is hardly a large number. They only need to be in the vicinity. That's not what I'm talking about anyway, and we both know it. It's not that you've been gone a long time - you haven't, really. But this search of yours is taking up too much of you, Xar. I can see it."

"Here we go again," Xar sighed, throwing his hands up.

"Listen to me... People are noticing this. Then you suddenly disappear without telling us where you've gone or anything? You could have been abducted for all we knew!"

"I am the Grand Master here. I will go where I want to. I do not have to report to you like some child."

"Xar, this is hurting you too much. We both know that's not the point. Leave vengeance aside for once. You've got to leave Akira alone. He's dead!"

"He is not dead!" Xar snapped.

"I've been through this, Xar! You know, Alderaan? I know what it leads to. It destroys you from the inside. Don't you think I can see that in you now? You've got to give it up!"

"I cannot! He constitutes a serious threat to us," Xar warned, shaking a finger at his Deputy Grand Master.

"We don't even know if he's on this side of the galaxy!" Mathis countered.

Xar slammed his fist down on the desktop, causing a cat that had been lounging on the couch to jump up in surprise and scurry underneath. "I will not be patronized by you, Mathis. That is enough. You are dismissed."

"Xar, I..." He began...

"I said get out!!"

Mathis gave the man a vicious stare, then turned and stormed out of the office. "It won’t be on my conscience when some assassin finds you!!" he shouted outside, slamming the door behind him. Icis shook his head after the departing man. He knew what Organa was going through... he'd experienced the same thing, long ago. But Xar had been changing in the last year and a half, changes that were becoming more and more visible, especially as his never-ending search for the killer of his family and world continued.

Well, Organa had tried, and, as Icis had expected, the task had fallen to him. Time for his turn. He moved over to Xar's desk, where the man was viciously scribbling something on a piece of paper. Icis dropped the Force mask which had kept him invisible from all but the few who knew how to pierce through his barrier and see him. Becoming visible.

"I figured you were here. What do you want?" Xar said flatly, not even looking up from his desk.

"We need to talk," Icis said dryly.

Xar didn't answer.

"Do you know who I am?"

Xar let the pen stylus fall to the table and stared up at him. The new scar on his face was very prominent. "What are you talking about, man?"

"Mathis is right," Icis said instead.

Xar just shook his head.

Icis sighed. "Xar, I haven't lived as long as I have without taking a few risks, nor without learning a few things. If you continue your present course... You will die."

Xar arched an eyebrow. "How do you figure that?"

"Because I've seen it happen too many times. Because you will never be satisfied with your revenge. Because you will continue taking it out on your own men."

Xar gave an exasperated sigh and looked back down at his papers. "You are wrong," he said. "You do not understand." Icis shook his head. That was about the most ignorant thing Icis had ever heard in his life.

Icis made as if to turn away, speaking into the air softly so he'd know Xar would listen for him. "It strikes me as odd, that when you want my advice, you try and beat it out of me, but when you really need it, you ignore what I have to say, and throw me out."

A hesitant pause, then there was loud sigh behind him, but this one of resignation. Icis turned back to the man, and saw that it was as if all the energy had left the man.

"What can I do?" he asked simply. "I do want to stop this, Icis, but I cannot. It is what drives me onward. What do you want to say?"

Inwardly, Icis smiled. Maybe there was hope for the man, after all. "You have to give up your anger, your hard feelings. And you must not take them out on your friends. Or do you have any friends? If you lose Mathis, will there be anyone left? Tell me."

Slowly, sadly, Xar shook his head.

Icis continued. "You'll go looking after this man until it gets you killed or you kill him. But that won't be enough, because there will always be someone else to transfer that revenge to. It will not end. You have to change, Xar. Give up your hate, listen to your heart and do what you know is right."

Xar's hung his head, a weary look on his face. The distant, regal air he usually projected about himself faded. "But what if General Akira really is a threat? This is not just revenge. What of all that happened at Ravenspyre?"

"It's a chance you're going to have to take, Xar. Let it go."

Xar nodded slowly. "I tried to, at Ravenspyre. When I killed Krun."

"But you couldn't let it go while you were, even then, avenging those you cared about. At first you were content with simply taking out Dasok Krun. Until you learned that General Akira was behind it, and that he might be alive. But this isn't what your parents would have wanted. . Dasok Krun was enough; let it go. Leave them in peace."

Xar looked up at Icis strangely. "How can you know so much about me? How can you know what I feel?"

Icis just nodded. "Come. We should talk more." Turning, he made his way out of the office, knowing that Xar would be following behind.

* * *

Senate Complex

Tralaria, NI Capital

1215 Hours

“Congratulations, Diktat,” Sector Admiral Arfann Dogar’s cheerful voice greeting Ryskar D’larit as he entered the conference room. “I know the NI is in good hands now.”

“I speak for all of us when I say we are thankful that you took the initiative to lead in spite of pressing duties in your own fleet,” Caramon Majere added. Thank you for taking the burden off of all of us.”

Ryskar nodded to the two other men besides himself who were present at their private meeting. He felt sorry for the latter; he knew that Majere’s fleet was still battling it out with pirate clans holed up in Matacious Quadrant, along with the Star Vipers, their allies. “Thank you, gentlemen,” he addressed the two of them. “It is an honor.”

He gestured them to sit at the small conference table, and followed suit himself. “I’ll make this brief,” he said. “We have been contacted by a new alien race that claims to have wiped out the Blackhawk pirates in the Caledon System.”

His words were met with a look of surprise from Dogar, a frown of concern from Majere. “So someone has come forward to claim responsibility?” the latter mused aloud.

“And they are requesting an alliance with us, claiming their act as a gesture of goodwill,” D’larit added. “Frankly, I’m not sure what to believe, myself.”

“It’s too dangerous a claim to make,” Dogar said, shaking his head. “No, I believe it.”

The room was silent for a moment. D’larit looked from face to face. “What should our course of action be?” he finally asked.

“Well, they certainly helped us by eliminating the enemy,” Majere pointed out.

“But they took many lives to do it,” D’larit countered. “They don’t sound like the kind of people we want to deal with. We’re too young as a government to have a scandal break exposing corruption in the government.”

“I say do nothing, for now,” Majere offered thoughtfully. “Wait them out, see what their next move is. If they are seeking something from us, that puts us in a position of advantage. Wait a while and see what they’re really up to.”

Ryskar looked at the other man. “And your opinion, Arfann?”

The other shrugged. “I’d say find out as much about them as you can,” he replied. “And frankly I’d like to roll out the fleet for a little display and scare them back into their little hidey-holes. We could have wiped out the pirates just as efficiently. We just chose not to employ that way.” He shook his head slowly. “But in this case I’m inclined to agree with Caramon: wait them out and force them to move, next. Get them to reveal more information than they want to, and we’ll keep the pressure on them. Sooner or later we’ll find out what they’re about.”

Ryskar nodded, feeling better having his two most trusted advisors with him on this. “Good. Then that’s what we’ll do. Gentlemen, please keep me informed of everything you hear on this matter. Together we’ll get to the bottom of this, I’m sure.”

* * *

Royal Palace Halls

Vectur, Planet Varnus

1120 Hours

Rynn Mariel sat at the table, alone, slowly working on her plate of cooked vegetables and fruits. The food here in the Royal Palace was actually very good, most of the time, but it wasn't taste that was preoccupying her. She was deep in thought.

So, she was finally here. Five days had passed, and she'd already begun the new life of an apprentice. Everything seemed different here, almost like a martial discipline that pervaded the atmosphere. For the apprentices, at least. The palace seemed a bright place, not at all the dreary fortress she had expected. There were much more than Jedi here, in fact, the Jedi seemed pretty scarce compared to the myriad of people moving about, on countless tasks and jobs. Though situated in the center of the capital of Varnus, the palace was almost a city unto itself. She still wondered at how quickly recent events had transpired to bring her here. But, she couldn't think on that. Her new life would be taking a lot of her time from now on.

Sitting there in thought, chewing her food mechanically, she barely noticed an approaching figure until a large, broad-shouldered man sat down opposite her, setting his tray on the table. Rynn started and stared for a moment before catching herself. The figure's dark brown skin immediately set him apart from most people she'd seen around the palace, as did his sparkling, blue eyes. He had a single, gold speck of an earring in his left ear, and a black mustache that traced above his upper lip and came down into points below his mouth. The man seemed in his mid thirties, and though Rynn wouldn't bet money on her skill at age-guessing, she didn't think she was far off from that guess. “May I sit?” he asked in a deep, pleasant voice.

Rynn nodded meekly. The man settled down into the seat, dark Jedi robes rustling quietly, and put his big arms up on the table. More than intimidated, Rynn started to get up, but the man broke the unease with a wide grin that showed his pearl-white teeth.

"I'm Atridd Xoan," the dark man said, nodding. "Jedi Knight and Mentor. Hi."

"Rynn... Mariel... I'm new here. How... do you do?" Rynn spoke, offering a weak smile.

"Fine, thanks.” The man nodded, and, taking an eating utensil from the tray, began digging into a large plate of ribenes. "Yes, I know you're new," he said, looking back up at her. "I'm your assigned mentor."

Suddenly the room seemed a bit stuffier, and Rynn took a large swallow of her water to help her suddenly-dry mouth.

There was a low, pleasant-sounding chuckle from across the table at her. "Oh, come on, I'm not that bad. I am a Jedi Knight, you know."

The words took a moment to register, but Rynn found herself feeling a little better once they sunk in. A Jedi. A real Jedi. Disciplined and skillfully trained in the use of the Force, and what she had secretly aspired to be since she'd first learned of her latent Force abilities. A spark of interest in learning more, from this man who was apparently her teacher for the time being, caused her to relax and continue eating, and brought up a few questions she had as well.

But Xoan spoke first, after wiping his mouth with his napkin. "You're pretty strong in the Force, aren't you? I can sense it, a bit, and I'm not especially trained to do that."

Rynn nodded curtly. "I... suppose so. They told me when they tested me that I was a level fifty."

"A level fifty! At testing?" His eyes widened in surprise. "You already had some control yourself, didn't you?"

Rynn shrugged. "I knew some, not really that much, though."

"No need to be so modest. It's quite an accomplishment, learning on your own. Have they taught you to contain your Force-presence? Otherwise you'd be sending out signals to everyone around you, bombarding them with your thoughts, feelings, and all other kinds of stuff that goes on in your brain. It can give people quite a headache, especially if you're fairly strong in the Force. It really has an effect on regular people who can't use the Force. Here we learn to shut out such interference, of course. If not, we'd be catching glimpses of people's thoughts as they pass by in the hallways. Not a pleasant experience, mind you."

"But isn't that something you learn to do with the Force, read people's minds?" Rynn asked curiously.

"Oh, no! We do learn it, of course, but we never use it unless it's absolutely necessary. There are strict privacy rules here, stuff that just makes sense to do, you know?"

"I... see," Rynn answered. "I guess I have a lot to learn. Will you be teaching me?"

"Part of the time," the man nodded. "Others will help, as well. We have a cooperative society here, where we believe in helping one another out and making things better. Even the Grand Master himself will probably want to teach you something, or train a bit with you. It's usually very important to him that he gets to know his students well, develop a relationship of trust and loyalty with them." He nodded and took another bite of ribenes, but Rynn noticed a thoughtful look on his face.

There was a brief chain of movement around the room, and the din of voices died down considerably. Rynn turned to see where most people were looking, and caught a glimpse of a robed, dark-haired man striding by in the hallway, coming from the direction of the main hallway. He didn't look around, but kept straight on his path, his face full of concentration.

"Is that...?" Rynn began.

Xoan nodded. watching the figure disappear around a corner. "Speaking of the man himself. That was the Grand Master."

"Ah." Rynn kept watching the place where he'd vanished, wondering where he'd been going, and why he'd looked that way.

The black man looked at her and raised an eyebrow. "What is your perception of him?" he asked simply, turning back to his plate.

"I..." she began, then hesitated, wondering if she could just speak her mind. She decided to. "He seems very occupied, yet alert. By himself, yet not alone. Intriguing. Am I going meet him?"

"Very perceptive, for an Initiate," Xoan studied her. "Yes, I'm sure you shall. But in the meantime, how about we get this mentoring under way? There is much for you to learn and fill your time with."

Rynn nodded. "Yes, I am ready to begin. The sooner and faster I learn, the sooner I will become a Jedi."

Atridd gave a deep laugh as he rose. "That you shall..."

* * *

Xar studied the object in his hands, a sleek, black cylinder with several small knobs and buttons, ending in a wicked-looking claw that housed the emitter nozzle for the lightsaber blade. The dark blade had belonged to a man named Dasok Krun, the man who had personally killed Xar's family and assisted in the ruination of his home here on Varnus. Xar had only found that information out after Krun had led an assault on Ravenspyre, the palace of House Ar'Kell before its flight from the enemy. When they'd come to Varnus to rebuild, Xar had taken along the various artifacts and mementos from his exploits and adventures. Many of them had been harrowing experiences and close calls. It had been almost two years since they’d arrived, but through the assistance of the rapidly-growing NI, the planet had been modernized, and its capital city of Vectur had been restored to its former beauty, perhaps even surpassing it. But in spite of that accomplishment, the fact of what had happened had always loomed like a shadow over everything he'd done, never quite making up for the damage that had been wreaked. Things he could have prevented.

But there was more. When he'd killed Krun at last, he had sensed the man's power in the Force, and had been consumed with thoughts of vengeance. Killing him wasn't just enough punishment. Just before he'd finished Krun, Xar had used a power so terrible it had been forbidden even by Dark Jedi. Reaching into his enemy's being, connecting with him and his connection to the Force, he had drawn the man's Force energy, his life energy, and claimed it as his own. Absorb Force Energy was perhaps the most shocking power ever developed, one Xar had only come across on Runis' secret files. Runis had studied the power extensively, though it was unclear whether or not he had used it before. But there were drawbacks. The person's Force-potential wasn't the only thing that was absorbed; also were the person's memories, and to a certain extent, his personality. Xar knew he wasn't completely himself anymore... He had only used the power once, and immediately vowed never to do so again. Part of Dasok Krun was inside him, and it seemed to be coming out lately. He knew he had become more volatile, more violent since the absorbing. It wasn't just Xar's giving up of the pain of his family's death, but part of Krun's personality itself which had turned him around and brought his emotions out like never before. He had gone from concealing and suppressing his emotions to letting them out, allowing them to control him, and that was what had caused him to yell at Mathis the day before. That was what he was fighting against, he realized. It was made harder, as it wasn't two personalities fighting one another, but both had integrated into the person he was now. Some of it, perhaps, had changed him for the better, but some was for the worse.

Sighing, he placed the hilt back inside the case with the others. His eye fell on the picture frame sitting on one of the shelves, the picture inside faded, a tear running across part of it. But he could clearly see the woman in it, smiling, fiery red hair framing her beautiful face. What wasn't clearly shown in the image was like crystal in his mind. It was the woman he'd loved more than anything else in the world, the woman he'd been going to marry. His betrothed from childhood, Illiana had always been around the palace. They'd grown up together, first as friends, not really knowing what the word ‘betrothed’ meant, thinking marriage was worlds and lifetimes away. But as they grew older, their friendship turned into love, to their parents' great delight as well. They had been close, sharing everything with one another, but as the most strict Varnusian rule of law for the Royal Family, had committed themselves not to be together until their wedding night. But then his capture by Runis came. And by the time he returned to Varnus, everything he'd known was gone forever. His parents; his brothers and sisters; including Rydon Kerensky, with whom he’d also grown up; his home; and Illiana. Old memories called out at him, but he shook them away harshly.

Since then, he hadn't ever opened himself up to anyone, especially a woman. There had been women, of course, but none that had captured his heart. And the few friends he had seemed to be dwindling. His uncle Aron was dead, murdered by Krun. Iver had recently left for prospective business in the Core; Kurt turned away to some enemy as of yet unknown. Now he had practically thrown Mathis out, and all around him were people that he was training to be living weapons. How could he afford to trust any of them? No. He shook away the thought. Without trust, paranoia set in. Without trust, he might as well not live. He wasn't going to lose his friends.

So long, so much of my life has been consumed by this. Could he really give up everything that had been driving him for the past seventeen years, since he'd first left Varnus, been injured, and captured by Runis? Things had come between him and his quest for vengeance, of course; Runis had pushed it into the background, the Imperial Navy had covered it for a while with its glory, then his time in Ar'Kell... But it was there all the time, lurking in the shadows. He had thought he'd overcome it before, when he defeated Krun, the murderer of his family. But then that need for vengeance had been transferred to the next enemy, then the next, and finally to the mastermind behind the devastation of Varnus: General Akira. And then, he knew, it would continue on forever, consume him for the rest of his existence. Icis was right; he had to let it go. He had to change. But it wouldn't be an easy task. It would have to be a continuous, conscious decision. And it had to begin now.

"Computer," he spoke aloud, slowly. He hesitated. Once he did this, there would be no going back. But that was what he had to do, what he wanted to do. It was his choice. Time to let the past rest, and to meet the future. Maybe he did have a destiny, but now, whatever it was, he wouldn't let it be driven by the past.

"Computer, delete all files regarding or in reference to the name Akira, from all records including the main database." The first step, albeit one of the largest. No temptation to go back to the past, to bring back those shadows on his life. The future lay ahead, and he would it meet as a new, free being.

Getting up, he steeled himself to head immediately for Mathis' quarters and apologize before he went any further. That was one friend he wasn't going to lose...

West Palisade

Royal Palace, Vectur

1900 Hours

Rynn slid back across the top of the ten-meter-wide wall, bringing her practice sword back up in front of her in a guard position. Opposing her, the huge Atridd Xoan advanced cautiously, his blade at the ready in front of him. "Come on," he said. "Don't run, attack."

Rynn attacked. Running forward, she lunged at the larger man with her blade extended. But Xoan easily parried her attack, allowing her to slip past him, then extended one leg, tripping her. She pitched forward, but turned the movement into a roll across the stone. She came up and spun back around, expecting an attack, but none came. Xoan stood watching her, shaking his head. "Never come straight in," he said.

Rynn nodded, standing. Then, barring her blade in front of her, she charged in again, this time striking hard and fast at him, but he managed to block every move. Backing away, she surveyed her surroundings to try and find some place of leverage. The wide palisade they stood on dropped off shortly behind her, forming part of the west wall. Below, other buildings rose and continued off into the distance. The west side of the city was not as repaired or developed from the damage that had been done years ago. Many of the buildings seemed uninhabited, rising to end in broken roofs and shattered tops of structures. Across from her, opposite the wall, a building rose almost as high, its roof slanting down to end two stories above the street below.

Xoan's attack brought her back just in time to parry his strike, but his blade hit her arm anyway. If it had been a lightsaber, she knew, he arm would have been rendered useless or gone altogether. Grimacing, she struck back at him, but her skills just couldn't match a Jedi Knight's. Of course, they weren't supposed to, but that knowledge frustrated her and fueled her energy to lash at him.

He'd backed her up against the ten-meter drop to the street below, now. Refusing to give up, she struck to one side, then the other, but he blocked and swung his wooden practice sword so fast it moved as a blur. She ducked instinctively, the blade missing her by less than two centimeters. Then, in a sudden decision, she drew on the Force, gathered it under her, and leaped backwards as hard as she could, performing a back flip worthy of a gymnast. His blade passed through the air she'd vacated, missing by far.

As pretty as she knew her flip to be, the landing wasn't something she'd considered very clearly. Her feet hit the roof on the opposite building and slid right out from under her as they hit the slanted surface. Her back hit hard, and she found herself sliding downwards at a frightening pace. Then the roof suddenly gave out, and she dropped. The ground came all too soon. She tried to roll, but hit hard anyway, and ended up falling back to the duracrete street outside the palace, feeling pain shoot through her and her breath flash out of her lungs, leaving her gasping for air.

It had seemed like forever, but she knew only seconds had passed. And suddenly Xoan was there, though how he'd made it down so much easier she had no idea. Air seemed to come, ever so slowly, as her eyes focused on his concerned face.

"That... was very foolish," he said sternly.

As her breath returned, she forced herself to sit up and gasped air. "No... kidding... Tell me something... new, why don't you..." she panted.

She saw him frown, then shake his head in dismissal. "Forget it. Are you all right?"

Rynn managed a weak laugh. "Oh yeah, sure. Just had my insides turned to mush. Just give me a minute, okay?"

His eyes widened, then he stood back and looked at her with a stern expression. "Fine. If you can find your way back into the palace, I guess you're training will continue. Good luck," he said as if she needed it. Then he turned and moved out of her vision.

She shook her head. It hadn't been a good idea, but she wasn't about to give in one bit. After all she'd been through, she was going to train herself harder than anyone else. She would be the fastest growing, best Jedi of all. As much as she knew Xoan was right, and wanted to help, she couldn't concede that much pride.

Standing, she surveyed the street she'd fallen onto. She couldn't see her wooden training sword; either Xoan had taken it, or it hadn't come down with her. No matter. Up above, the west wall of the Varnusan Royal Palace extended for at least ten meters, further than any Jedi could probably jump. But then again, she didn't know. But she did know there was no way she'd be getting back up that way. This section must not have needed repairs after the devastation, as it looked much older than the newer edifice that towered over the city of Vectur. The street ran right up to the wall, where creeping vines had made their holdings in the cracks along it, but they wouldn't be any help in getting up. Some trash was piled against the wall, which was made of large stones, not the duracrete which composed the newer sections. Yes, this was an older part of the city. She didn't hear any signs of life around, so she decided to walk around and eventually wander her way back into the palace somehow. Getting back around to one of the entrances wasn't as easy as it sounded, as the perimeter wasn't squared off, and might follow whole city blocks leading to roads that had been piled with towering rubble. But, a walk would do her good. She needed to get her frustrations at her failure out, and she still had much to learn about this new home of hers. Yes, a walk sounded good.

Grand Master's Office

Royal Palace, Varnus

0930 Hours

Xar smiled widely as the door opened, admitting a familiar figure. His elation was true, he really was glad to see his visitor, though he was still trying to make a conscious effort for his change. "Maarek, good morning! How have you been..." He paused, noticing the new change in the visage of his old comrade. "By the Core, man.... You shaved!"

His old friend gave a grin as he entered and ran a hand along his clean-shaven face. "Yep. Got tired of it, I guess. Got it just after I left the Empire, to help disguise myself. Now that I'm in the NI, think it's safe to go back to my old self?"

Xar gave a short laugh, and shook his head." Absolutely. It looks good. I suppose I could not quite accept it was you at first. This sure brings back a few things."

Maarek nodded. "Yeah. How about a walk? I just finished my morning jog. It's a nice day out."

Xar smiled. "Sounds good to me."

"So how is the training going, Wing Commander?" Xar asked once they were outside. From the office, the two men had passed through the sparsely-trafficked corridors of the upper class, and emerged outside on the long balconies on the south side of the palace. Ahead in the morning sunlight shone the skyline of skyscrapers and parks that had been rebuilt. It had only been a few years since the reconstruction had gotten underway full scale, but the city had been restored to more beauty than Xar had ever remembered. It had been a quick period, as well, so occupied by all the events and problems plaguing the new NI government that it was a wonder they could make it where they were. But it was beautiful, the new city of Vectur. He glanced over at his friend.

"Going great, actually," Maarek replied. "The squads onboard the Stormwatch have shown a real increase in efficiency, and I think they're almost worthy to fly those fancy ships you've got afforded to them. And I've finally got my personal squadron together. Hand-picked from all across the NI. These were the best I could find, and I've trained 'em with everything I know. Well, just about everything. I have to admit, these are some of the best I have ever seen. This whole area seems to produce great pilots, and, if I can take a guess, good warriors in general."

"Must be genetics," Xar shrugged.

"Either that, or their ancestors were really accustomed to war," Maarek pointed out. He glanced around the balcony, out at the city. The veranda they were on stretched the entire south side of the palace on this level, and was a great place for anyone to sit quietly and enjoy the atmosphere. Various flora had been set up around the balconies, and rugs, pictures, and banners of various colors adorned the floor, walls, and ceiling as one glanced down the hallways inside. Xar took a deep breath, enjoying for a moment the simple, yet complex being of life itself. He hadn't done that in a very long time.

"Grand Master?" a sudden voice interrupted his thoughts. With an annoyed sigh, he turned to face the Novice who had come up to them.

"Yes? What is it?"

The young man looked nervous at seeing the leader of the Jedi Order. Xar didn't recall seeing him before, so he must have been new. The Novice hesitated, then spoke in a rush.

"Sir, Ambassador Hursis of the Ssither would like to speak with you at your convenience, sir." The man seemed to falter over the alien's name, and an embarrassed look came over his face.

"Of course," Xar replied. "Thank you, that will be all."

The Novice bowed and left, and Xar looked down in the direction they'd been walking, to were a serpentine form was crouching near a tall fern plant. Beside him, Maarek seemed to be looking on in confusion. Xar gestured toward the snake form. "Come on. There is someone I want you to meet." Maarek seemed to hesitate, but gave a curt nod and followed.

Hrrssiss, as the Ambassador was really named, was the official representative of the Ssither to the New Imperium. Unbeknownst to most, however, he was also an acquaintance of Xar himself. The Ssither, while usually quite bright, could speak vocally, but also had a natural telepathy which was