Satellite Inos, Capella System
Year -19 BSW, four days after the end of the
clone wars
The
moon Inos hung silently in the black void of space
above its parent. From where the Hall of Darkness lay, in the center of a giant
crater, the planet Capella filled the starlit sky as
the shuttle came in on its approach vector. As the shuttle drew close to the sunken
circle of ground upon which the Hall lay, a square of vectoring lights came to
life, revealing a landing pad. The newly designed, sterile white Tyderium-class
shuttle set down in a smooth landing, then began to
descend as it was lowered down into a small underground hanger. Small enough
for only a few of such ships, it was nonetheless occupied by several technicians
and a score of storm troopers. The former rushed forward as soon as the shuttle
came to floor-level, securing the landing docks as the overhead trapdoor slid
closed once more. As the room was enveloped in darkness, the storm troopers
lined up parallel to the cockpit, forming a pathway that lead to the envoy
waiting at the exit. When the red auxiliary lights came on, the troopers were
in perfect order.
The
shuttle’s boarding ramp descended, and a dark figure appeared in the hatchway.
After a few seconds, it strode down the ramp, booted feet barely making a
sound. Envoy Mas felt more than uneasy at seeing the
newcomer, and he wiped his sweaty palms on the sides of his pants, knowing it
betrayed his nervousness. As the figure approached, Mas
could make him out more clearly. The visitor wore a cloak, black as night,
covering his hands and extending down to his heels. Standing two meters tall,
his head was hooded and his face was so far in shadow that Mas
couldn’t see anything of it.
Standing
as straight as he could, Mas gave the figure a
respectable bow. After all, the visitor was still to be treated as a dark lord.
“Welcome to Inos, sir. I’ll escort you to the main
hallway.”
He
waited a full five seconds for a response, but got none. Turning on his heel, Mas started off, leading the way into the turbolift, not
knowing whether he was followed or not. Entering the enclosed lift, Mas turned around. The black-cloaked figure had indeed
followed and now stood before him, barely a meter away, yet Mas
hadn’t heard a sound. The figure moved near the side of the lift as Envoy Mas punched in the command to take them to surface level.
The doors closed, and the turbolift started upward.
The
dark visitor reached up and threw the hood back, revealing his face. Mas involuntarily went back a step. Although he couldn’t
tell the age of a Jedi, he guessed that this one was fairly old. The man had
short-cropped gray hair, and likewise grew his mustache and beard fairly short
over his stern-looking face and squared-off jaw. Only a few spots of black on
the gray hinted at its former color. His once handsome face had a small number
of scars decorating it.
“Time
to pacify the elders,” said the Dark Jedi in a sarcastic tone. “I hate crowded
places. Don’t you?”
Envoy
Mas swallowed hard, then
nodded once.
* * *
The
ten-meter high, elaborately carved double doors split down an otherwise
invisible seam, and slowly opened. As soon as there was enough room for his
wide frame to fit through, Dark Jedi Master Runis strode into the Grand Hall of
the Brotherhood of Darkness. Protected by his cloak from the stares from the
sub-level seating area to each side, he made his way across the hundred meter
long red carpet, leading like a red lightsaber shaft to the black stone bench
behind which sat the members of the Dark Council. The Grand Hall was a massive
chamber with room for over a thousand visitors and Jedi. The number of such
Dark Jedi had been significantly reduced by this time, however. Countless years of war and brutal conflict had
all but decimated what had once been a powerful order of Dark Jedi. In truth,
they had nearly been wiped out to a man by Lord Kaan’s
folly in the war between Jedi and Sith a thousand
years before. Fortunately, history always forgot a few details, and there had
been more survivors, those not on Ruusan, that the
galaxy at large was unaware of. Now their descendents were in hiding, banished
from the rest of the galaxy and prevented from acting by the rise of a powerful
rogue, an adherent of the Rule of Two named Darth Sidious,
who had wiped out the Jedi in one clever stroke and had now risen to become
Emperor of the newly formed Galactic Empire.
Now
in the chamber only the first three rows of seats were filled, and not full at
that. Some were masters; more were merely apprentices. The glory days had
passed.
To either side of Runis, above the area
for the dark brothers, sat a large balcony on each side, intended for VIPs and
other special visitors. A few beings sat up there, their faces hidden in
shadow.
Directly
ahead was the massive stone bench. Behind it sat the five members of the Dark
Council, each diverse from each another in his or her own way. Runis could
sense the tale-tell traces through the Force that distinguished them each as
unique, like snowflakes. He doubted any of them were aware such subtleties even
existed, however. His studies, considered arcane by most, had taught him many
new and forbidden things.
Above
and behind their position sat the Grand Master. The crooked, ancient figure sat
stone still, and his white beard extended downward from under his hood, onto
his chest. His eyes were not visible, but the heavy, drooping bags under them
could be seen. Known more for his devotion to tradition than anything else, he
had presided over many years of stagnation in the Brotherhood. Old coot, Runis thought. You’ve been in office too long. But your time
will be over soon.
Behind
the Grand Master hung the banners of the Brotherhood, and the Grand Master, and
those before him, though the current one had been in power for a hundred years.
Runis stopped a few meters away from the bench and waited patiently.
The Deputy Grand Master, a gray-bearded man who sat at
the center of the bench, stood and addressed everyone present in a grave tone.
“Dark
brothers,” he spoke, “We are gathered here to pronounce judgment on an
audacious member of our order, who is charged with the most serious of crimes.
Master at Arms Estod, present the charges.”
Cernis, my old friend,
I knew you couldn’t convict me yourself, Runis thought. After all these
years, I know you did not wish to see me thus. But your concern for me is a
waste. I have no such admonitions about you.
Estod
stood beside Cernis, and began after swallowing once.
The dim light shone palely on his balding head.
“Brothers assembled here, we have before us a traitor the likes of which
the Sith Lords have never known. Master Runis, standing here before us, has
conspired against the Sith - and has, in secret, attempted
to create his own order, apart from ours…” He waited for a moment to let the
words sink in, his eyes trying to bore straight through Runis.
“Rebellion in itself is nothing new to us. However,” Estod continued, looking around at the assemblage, “It is not as much this fact as to the nature of Runis’ supposed order. Runis has ventured into ancient places, forbidden to our Brotherhood, tapping into the forbidden powers older than recorded history. He no longer summons the Dark Side of the Force…” He paused to let the words have the desired effect, a ripple of murmurs emanating from those seated to either side of Runis. Fool, Runis thought. They didn’t understand anything about him after all this time.
Estod’s
eyes narrowed. “Obviously, this idea cannot be allowed to stray into the hands
of our apprentices here, nor to escape into the galaxy
to become a threat such as it once was, as recorded in the most ancient
Holocron. As entailed by our honorable Grand Master’s laws, such a crime is
punishable by nothing other than death.”
Now we go into the long debates. Perhaps
I can sway Cernis to my side. “If I may be
allowed to speak…” he began.
“The
Council members will now vote,” Estod announced.
What!? Runis made no effort to hide his shock. They have already decided to
kill him. They were going to put him to death in total ignorance. “What kind of
trickery is this?” he challenged. “You’re all dooming yourselves. My methods
will save the Brotherhood, and the rest of the entire galaxy! Your nearsighted
schemes have degraded the Brotherhood through all these years!”
“No!
Things have been on a downward spiral since our predecessors were wiped out at Ruusan,” Another Council member, Judicator Distrun, a broad-shouldered Togarian,
spouted angrily. “We cannot allow your heresy to destroy the remains of our
order!”
“Show
respect for our leaders, heretic!” another voice called out to Runis.
Distrun’s
words struck at Runis like a viper. He continued. “And now the war is over, and
the galaxy has been handed over to that ill-trained rogue, Sidious.”
“Actually…”
Farn, the always logical and precise Warden,
interrupted quietly. “Sidious’ master, Plagueis, was ultimately a descendent of Darth Bane…”
“It
doesn’t matter,” Distrun shot back. “The point is
still the same. Now the galaxy is ruled by one who is not one of us. If there
can only be two Sith, what of the rest of us? Things
will only become more…”
“Silence!” Estod called out, ending the argument. “There is more going
on here than most of you realize. The new Emperor may not be our enemy. And he
has done a great work for our cause by removing the scourge of rule under the
Jedi. No Sith in history has achieved such a complete victory. To keep an eye on this… Palpatine,
we had to take care of his former advisor, Kinman Doriana. Soon we will be moving in a new one to replace him.
“So,
as you can see,” he said confidently, now addressing Runis. “We have all the
power we need. Never before has the galaxy been dominated so completely by the
Dark Side. We have no use for you or your heresy. Your use of forbidden methods
has condemned you already. Now, the Council shall render its vote.”
Runis
remained silent as, one by one, the council members spoke into Estod’s ear. He hesitated, then, standing once again, he
pronounced the decision with a look of resignation on his face that Runis knew
was as much a lie as the legalities were.
“The
verdict… is guilty.” His eyes met Runis’. “Master Runis, you must be terminated
for the sake of the Brotherhood. Guards, you will escort Runis out of the
chamber and to the detention level for disintegration.”
Runis
stiffened, preparing his escape plan.
As
two armored guards came up on either side, Runis called out a plea. “Cernis,
do not do this. You know I am not involved in such heresy. This is against all
tradition. I demand a fair trial, by a council of my peers.”
Estod
shook his head and spoke up instead. “Your request is denied. You have been tried, and you consider us to
be your inferiors. We have more than
enough proof of what you’ve done. I’m sorry, my onetime friend. Guards, take
him away.”
The
guards went to grab his sleeves, but Runis shrugged them off. “I know the way. Cernis, I cannot believe you think I would cause trouble
here. I do have enough honor to accept my fate,” he lied.
Cernis
turned his head away, no longer meeting Runis’ baleful gaze. Then Runis turned
and strode toward the entrance doors, flanked by the guards.
Halfway
down the carpet, Runis cocked his head toward the guards. “What’s wrong?” he
whispered. “Do you think I could overpower the whole Brotherhood?”
One
of the guards swallowed at that, but the other said sternly, “Move.”
Shaking
his head, Runis dropped his hands to his sides, the lightsaber in the arm of
his cloak dropping into his right hand. He spun as he ignited the blade, its
violet edge slicing cleanly through both of the guards effortlessly.
The
Council members stood almost as one and Runis turned to face them. Each showed
an expression of outrage, shock, anger. The Grand Master had mysteriously not
moved from his position. Runis smiled to himself. The crowd members were all
turned back in their seats in shock that Runis had concealed a lightsaber past
all their security. Runis knew they were all probably angry enough to crush him
flat with the Dark Side, but he was faster. Without warning, he cast Blackness, a dark side power. A
camouflaging veil of black smoke enshrouded Runis, and he vanished from sight.
Seconds
after the dark cloud obscured him from their view, Deputy Grand Master Cernis sent the black screen into the air vents with the
Force, but when floor was clear again, Runis was gone.
“Red
alert!” he yelled. “We have an escaped prisoner. Secure all exits; we must find
him!”
* * *
Envoy
Mas heard the alert as he was about to order the
Shuttle’s departure. He turned to the troops around him. “Listen up, troopers! There’s
an escaped convict heading our way! He is a Jedi Master, so shoot first and
don’t ask questions!”
He
reached into his holster and pulled out his modified hand-held blaster. Setting
it for full power, he turned toward turbolift.
Just
then the turbolift started downward. A chill involuntarily shot up his spine.
“All
right, men, this is it!” he called.
The
turbolift descended. The troops gathered beside him, watching as time seemed to
slow and the turbolift seemed to take forever. Finally it reached the bottom,
and the doors opened. All guns were upon the interior.
The
turbolift was empty.
Mas
looked up just as Runis dropped from the rafters, over fifty meters above. He
landed lightly behind the stunned envoy, and as Mas
turned around to face him, Runis reached out and calmly took the blaster from
his hand.
Runis
turned toward the troops, who hadn’t yet recovered from their shock. Quickly he
wrapped them all in tendrils of the Force, holding them in place, and with a
smile he drove his fist back into Mas’ face, hearing
a cracking noise. He felt the man fall back. The gun in his other hand, he
switched it over to stun, and with a few shots put all the troopers down onto
the floor. Then he calmly walked over them and up the Shuttle’s ramp even as it
began lifting up.
Runis
moved into the cockpit as the Shuttle cleared the floor. “Thanks for the
assistance,” he told the skinny human pilot.
“No
problem,” the mercenary Runis had hired replied stiffly. “You’re money’s good, and…” the blaster shot into his head silenced him.
Pulling
the pilot’s body out of the seat, Runis sat down and proceeded to lead the shuttle
away from the moon. As he pulled out, the Shuttle’s backwash provided the
hanger’s inhabitants a clean, private crematory.
The
shuttle left the planet’s gravity well as the Imperial fighters that Runis had
betrayed the council to came in on their approach
vector. The laser batteries and missile launchers of the Hall of Darkness
opened up, offering stiff resistance, but the fighters were coming in too fast
to target accurately. Locking torpedoes on the Hall, they fired without mercy.
The first torpedo streamed in toward the Dark Hall and hit the ceiling
viewport. It entered the main chamber and detonated in midair, incinerating
everything and everyone that remained inside by that point. More missiles hit
the exterior of the Hall, pulverizing stone and duracrete,
and wiping out the weapons batteries. Then, defenseless, the Hall succumbed to
an endless wave of fire that tore through the interior and ripped it apart. As
the fighters pulled away from their attack runs and sped away into space, the
Dark Hall was a pile of smoldering ruins.
*
* *
And so it began.
By Joshua Ausley
a.k.a. Xar “Sauron” Kerensky
New Imperium
Copyright 1997