"So, before we get to Belsavis, we'll be going over our objective." Morgan looked to see no one disagree, nodding. Quinn and Kala were paying close attention, each with an officer to keep notes, while his three apprentices were doing it themselves. Soft Voice and Lana were standing at the back, another Enosis woman he didn't know tapping away on her datapad. "Which, to keep it short, is Baras's sister. Goes by the name of Darth Ekkage, rumoured to be the greatest sith assassin to ever live. I somewhat doubt that claim, since she got captured, but all the same she used to be a member of the Dark Council. Her powers will have weakened substantially, fortunately for us, but I will not make the mistake of underestimating her."
Jaesa raised her hand, speaking after he waved at her. "Belsavis is a prison planet, housing some of their most dangerous. The Republic keeps a heavy guard there, do they not?"
"They do. Quinn was informed some time ago a grand breakout was being organised, something that went into effect eleven days ago. The main objective is to free high value targets, such as the Dread Masters, while giving the Republic a black eye. This, for those uninterested in politics, will start a war. One that, this time, I cannot stop."
"We will not be going after the Dread Masters unless an opportunity presents itself, since we will be having our hands full with Ekkage, but I'll be taking command over as many Imperial forces as I can once we arrive. There is only one person there that can outrank me, according to reports, but prepare for a potential struggle. I will be cleaning house, so to speak, and ask that you prepare your people appropriately. And yes, we will be doing that even should Darth Synar object."
Everyone nodded, Soft Voice grinned lazily at the prospect, and Morgan moved on. "We will also be using the opportunity to recruit, though specifics will be postponed until first hand accounts can be taken. Many, many sentients live on the planet that were not sentenced, though a hard environment breeds hard people. The Enosis will take point in all such matters."
"Colonel Quinn has received the potential military compositions of the force sent to take Belsavis, though we are unaware of which one was chosen. As such, his officers have compiled an estimate. Combined with this is the likely resistance faced on the planet, courtesy of contacts within the Republic."
He tapped the holo-screen, showing a list of ships, people of interest and locations. "Everyone here will receive a copy, but keep in mind the accuracy of information can vary. Target's marked with an asterisk are something for Lana, Zethix or me to deal with. Mostly concerning other Lords, high ranked imperial elements, that kind of thing. Don't get yourselves killed trying."
"Should you need any resources outside of what we already possess, speak to Quinn's people. Our supply-line is somewhat unorthodox, mostly made possible by a vast amount of smugglers, so get informed about schedules. Time of delivery may vary. Now, as for the recruits picked up on Quesh. Zethix, care to fill us in?"
The devaronian pushed off from the wall. "At eleven thousand, four hundred and nine, they were judged too great in number to take with us. A moon has been selected where they will train, mostly serving as regulars, and construction has already begun. A shipyard has been procured, providing us with capable if non-standard warships and the ability to repair them. The location of both is classified, though a request for unrestricted details can be submitted. It will take an estimated four months before basic training is complete, coinciding when the first of the vessels will be ready."
"None of which will help here and now." Morgan picked up, making his friend lean on the wall again. "But very helpful for long term stability. It is, to understate the matter, expensive. A number of people will be assigned to acquire rakata artefacts while on planet, which will either be used as production boosters or sold for credits. For those unaware, the prison the Republic uses is built atop an old one. A very old one. Why they thought it was in any way a good idea to reuse rakatan ruins is beyond me. Moving on, Baras."
Quinn stood, Morgan nodding as he ceded the floor. The colonel cleared his throat. "My people, especially captain Forsair, and major Astara have thoroughly vetted our ranks after the information concerning Darth Baras's plan came to mind. The fleet reassigned to track and destroy us raised security concerns, especially for intelligence leaks. Both my own internal investigation unit and that of the Enosis have combined their efforts to eliminate this."
"These are our findings, made during our journey through hyperspace." The projector flickered, showing a list of six individuals. "Lady Jaesa has since verified our suspects, confirming our suspicion. All are trained in emotional control, underwent memory alteration therapy and have shielded implants in their hippocampus. In other words, sleeper agents."
Jaesa stood, though she didn't take the floor. Her face was blank. "The combination of all these elements meant my usual methods of detecting subterfuge were ineffective. This has since been remedied, and a full sweep of all officers has been conducted. Further screening of rank and file personnel is still ongoing, but has yielded no new suspects."
"Thank you." Quinn continued, pointing at the leftmost infiltrator. "So far our strategy of shuttling personnel during hyperspace calculations has been enough, though captain Forsair has been working on new procedure which would lessen our reliability on unique talent. We have kept our destination secure, none of these agents knew where we were going, but I do not expect that to hold once we make contact with the wider Imperial military. The moment we arrive on Belsavis our time will be limited."
Morgan spoke as Quinn sat, inclining his head. "It will be. The enemy fleet, however, will be playing catch-up. Even if they rerouted the moment we left Quesh, which is unlikely, and knew where we were going, even less so, we have six days at the very least. A more reasonable estimate puts us at fourteen. Fourteen days to kill Darth Ekkage and enrich ourselves with very powerful artefacts, all of which will be going through proper quarantine protocol. We don't know exactly what flavour of the Force the rakata used, but the Empire seems convinced it was the Dark. We will not take any chances regarding this. Three more days until we arrive, I expect everyone to make the most of them."
The meeting went on for a little while longer, going over details and backup plans and more, and as it ended he walked back to his room. Vette was on the ship, for a change, and nearly giddy about being able to rob an ancient civilization. It had tapered off over the last few days, going from excited to merely thrilled, but as he entered she wasn't there to be found.
He shrugged, taking a shower before settling down. Relaxing was nearly as important as training, allowing the mind to rest and the stress to dissipate, so he did what he normally did when he was alone.
Meditate.
Never thought that would become a hobby, really. Still, it was something else. Like that blunt he'd once smoked, a lifetime ago, but without the nausea. Instead it granted peace, bone deep and so thorough as to be addicting. If he went deeper, though as Sadow had pointed out that wasn't exactly a concept that applied, the strange would happen. The Other.
But here? In the shallow end before all the horrors and twisted senses? Just peace. Breathing in the Force and letting it out again, a simple pattern repeated a thousand times over. It would, just like any other technique using the Force, slowly increase his reserves. Make him stronger. Which, with his resistance, meant a five times increase concerning defence.
Not that he wasn't doing it for that. All the good parts of sleep, the rest and relaxation, combined with a warm shower and a filling meal. Dozing in a field with the sun on one's face, a hound curled at your feet and wine in hand. A hundred little pleasures he'd mostly given up, either through lack of time or necessity.
This was a good substitute. Hell, he could see how people got addicted to it. Jedi Master's basking in this for months at the time, uncaring about the outside world. When the Force infused the body enough, for reserves weren't some pool in the stomach, and suppressed hunger. Thirst. The need for sleep and the urge for distraction. All taken away, leaving nothing but the mind and endless bliss.
Morgan exhaled, long and deep, before calling over the holocron. Not Teacher's one, that was locked away, but the one containing people like him. The ones that appeared one day, without rhyme or reason.
Mark Fisher, who wasn't a fisherman, and claimed to be from a planet where they had never heard of the Force. Of a planet with cars and planes, rudimentary space exploration and reality tv. Where a species of bird called the ok'atta laid eggs the size of minivans, the enormous things as docile as could be, and fed a third of the population.
Not from earth, unless Morgan had missed something rather extreme.
Omirka, no last name given, from a planet made of islands. Some who, thanks to a strange gravitational quirk, floated a thousand feet into the air. Where they trained flying fish to ferry people across, and one nation ruled forty billion souls.
On and on it went. Some had admitted it, like Mark and Omirka, while with others the information was second hand. Journals from loved ones, mutterings made while asleep recorded and compiled. Of drunken stories and deathbed confessions, most of them dismissed as figments of their imagination.
Interesting, to be sure. Informative even. But nothing critical. Nothing that pointed to some central directive, a pattern or plan. Just people appearing where they shouldn't, knowing nothing about how they got there.
Was it just coincidence, then, that he knew the future? That he was, as far as he could tell, the only one that had heard of lightsabers and the Force before he got here? A one-in-a-trillion multiplied by a billion creating odds so vanishingly small as to be zero?
"Not that I mind you meditating, I really don't, but could you stop flying? It's distracting."
Morgan snapped his eyes open, finding Vette watching him from the couch. He dropped with a shrug, disengaging the ten thousand threads keeping him aloft. "Practise never hurts."
"And neither does smiling to yourself creepily, I'd imagine."
"Says the one eyeing me like a piece of candy." He muttered, sending the holocron back to where it should be. "Doing something fun?"
"Ensuring your army has enough supplies to last the week, sure. Food, water and oxygen is easy enough. Heavy duty ammunitions not so much. Few smugglers are willing to risk their life transporting that, so I have to use my own people. But, as I always say, nothing is too good for my Messiah."
Morgan glared at her, moving into the kitchen. "Don't call me that."
"Religious appropriation suits you." She called. "I'm sure cults have been built on less."
"It's not a cult. It won't be a cult. Not if I have something to say about it."
She waved her hand dismissively. "And all that personal attention will only make them more zealous. Gotta accept people like following the strong, those that help and protect them. Promise them a better future. It's in our nature."
"And I don't want to talk about it, so there."
Vette fell silent, increasingly smug, and he contemplated throwing an egg at her. He refrained, mostly because she would probably dodge, but the next idea brought a smile to his face.
She yelped as her feet were yanked off the table, staring at him with wide eyes. Morgan wagged his finger at her. "The Massiah says no feet on the furniture."
"Misuse of power." She accused, a little slower than she normally would have. "Since when can you use the Force on me?"
"Since I practised with a Force ghost of unknown power and terrifying skill. Could before that, but it would have been wasteful. Who knew training with one of the greatest Alchemists to ever live would be so useful?"
"Useful for being mean." She grumbled. "And insensitive. Have a spiritual awakening without me, why don't you."
Morgan send her a dry look. "Next time I meet with him I'll ask if he could tear reality apart to come say hello."
"Good." Vette looked around in the way she did when she wanted to say something but was looking for an excuse not to, her eyes landing on the ball of fur hiding atop the closet. "Why is Fortuna sulking?"
He moved over, making the little cricet jump on his shoulder. "She's not doing so well in captivity. Bit of a dick move on my part, really. I think I'll be setting her free on Belsavis, let her terrorise the small game bracket. Poor thing has been bored to death."
"But letting her live alone, never to find a mate, is kinder? Could send someone to put her back on Hoth, if you want."
"They reproduce asexually. Interesting to study, if not all that helpful. Making myself a clone isn't high on my list of priorities."
"So you're setting an endless swarm of Force infused predators loose on the planet?"
"Stick to one point of complaint, if you please." He petted Fortuna as she nuzzled, frowning as he practised fine control through her flesh. An annoyingly hard exercise, though she seemed to enjoy it. "You're giving me whiplash. Though, if any planet can handle it, Belsavis would be it."
"Why'd you even take her in the first place?"
Morgan grinned at her condescendingly. "No need to be jealous just because she likes me more than you."
"You're the only one she likes. Bit two people coming to clean, had to capture her and put her in another room."
"Oh. Yeah, you need to go. Would you like that, another mostly frozen wasteland for you to skulk about in? Yes you would."
Vette rolled her eyes as he put her down, the little terror jumping back on the closet, and he opened the fridge again. She perked up. "Making lunch?"
"I'll make double."
﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌
Arriving in a system was always a tense moment. They had informed the Empire they were coming, of course, but only a short while ago. Back then the communicator had assured them no Republic ships were present, but it was the sight of active battle.
Imperial victory or not, Belsavis was a Republic prison. The early stages were done, the enemy routed and planetary access secured, but it was doubtful that would remain. Plenty of elements in the prison were hostile to their arrival, be it Republic or prisoner. And on a rakatan world you never knew what someone dug up and decided to activate.
Usually followed by their death, yet active all the same.
But everything had gone smoothly. The Enosis fleet had arrived, Imperial command insisted they were more than pleased with the reinforcements, and Morgan had been invited to discuss his role aboard the flown-in orbital station.
In attendance were no less than four high ranked sith, one of which was Darth Synar. Not someone he knew, though from what resources he could access she wasn't directly attached to the Dark Council and its politics.
Lord Thos and Medechas were garden variety sith, sent to aid with the mission. Their Master's were uncaring and distant, kept more for the prestige than anything else. Either would be unlikely to start something.
Melicoste, on the other hand, was an operative of Baras. A well hidden one, at that, but one all the same. John had been more than fine with sharing his impressive intelligence collection on the man. Not the fact he was here for Baras' sister, that he already knew, but more general info. Background, confirmed kills, that sort of thing.
Slightly treasonous, digging into the business of a Dark Council member, but then the old man grew bored. Morgan profited either way, so he wasn't going to complain. Baras probably would, but if John trusted himself to keep under the radar, Morgan would trust in the man.
The fact Lord Melicoste stayed, feeling secure in his cover, was interesting. Hoping for safety in numbers, perhaps? The man was going to be disappointed if that was the case. It would all depend, in the end, on Darth Synar. If she was as apathetic as her file suggested then he could probably get away with pruning problems before they became such, most notably a certain non-Force sensitive pureblood.
Executor Krannus. The one in charge of the entire invasion, to which even Darth Synar owed allegiance. Technically speaking, of course. It was somewhat doubtful she would be all that pleased by being put under someone that couldn't use the Force.
The file on that particular man had been illuminating, and not just for the information it contained. Not someone he remembered, in truth much of Belsavis' finer detail was unknown to him, but one had sparked. About a death-cult wishing to perform an early Ziost, cracking the planet and starting a cascade of reactions that would leave much of the galaxy lifeless. All to fuel the Emperor, who had raised the man since birth.
He was going to die. And the best part? No one was going to stop him. Hell, some of the Lord's might even help. No one wanted to be part of any of that, no matter if the man was in charge or not. Best case? Morgan would reveal the man's intentions and let his own people do the rest.
Which led him to the here and now. Walking to the bridge of the orbital station, Lana and Soft Voice at his side. A shame he couldn't bring Jaesa, she would have been useful, but regular people skills would have to be enough. None of his apprentices were ready for a fight on that level, not now and probably not for a while. Together, maybe, but either way.
Neither did he bring any of his regular soldiers. No Chosen, Enosis sith or rank-and-file infantry. Just the three of them, which, by the look of things, was more than enough.
One sith Lord and Imperial officers got very cooperative. Two and people started bending over backwards. Three? Morgan could start hacking and slashing the moment he entered the bridge and none of them would move a muscle. Too busy crafting excuses for whomever walked out alive, pretending to be blind and deaf in the meanwhile.
Power and reputation had its advantages.
His boots clicked on the floor as the enormous hangar doors opened and closed, letting them pass before sealing them in. A worrisome sign, normally, but Morgan found it suited him just fine. Less witnessed would make it easier to spin the story later.
Everyone who was invited was there, along with some eighteen regular soldiers. Ones who didn't feel afraid, burning with a dedication Morgan judged almost sickly.
That would be the cult, then.
Executor Krannus was the one who invited him, and also the one who spoke. There was an admiral right next to him, two officers at his side. "Lord Caro, the glorious victor of Hoth. Be welcome, and be assured. Your quarrel with Darth Baras will not reach you here. Indeed, there is work to be done, work you and your people will be most well compensated for."
"I think you misunderstand my purpose here." Morgan replied, finding the man surprisingly well balanced. Nothing like his men. A result of being raised instead of inducted into the cult? "I am no mercenary."
"Yet I have the supreme authority over any within this system. I was being polite, sith. You and your people are under my command. The Emperor's command."
"Is he here?"
Krannus raised an eyebrow. "Fall in, Lord Caro. Before you meet an untimely fate aboard this station."
"Is. He. Here?" Morgan repeated, emphasising each word by taking a step closer. Soft Voice was angling to the right, blocking Lord Thos as Lana did the same with Medechas. Melicoste, the spy that he was, looked uncertainly to Darth Synar. "It really is a simple question, executor."
The man flickered his eyes to the only one present that might stabilise things, finding the Darth eying Morgan with a blank mask. "Do not be foolish. You avoided treasonous charges by sheer luck alone, a thing they will not overlook twice. My death would see you hunted down and slaughtered."
"Treason?" Morgan asked, playing up surprise. He looked to Synar, tilting his head. "Is it treason to stop a mad hound from detonating a planet's core, causing a chain reaction that would annihilate system after system? Would your fleet support your mission here, if they knew it was to assist the Emperor in consuming every living soul in our galaxy? Why, my dear executor. I think you'll find no mention of my treasonous actions will leave this room."
Krannus controlled himself well, really. No flinching, no surge of emotion or ordering his people to attack. It was the younger officer of the admiral that gave it away, hand flickering to his blaster before he caught himself. Morgan let a smile break over his face as Synar narrowed her eyes.
"What is this, Krannus? Speak Truth."
The pureblood grew wide-eyed as the command sank deep, Morgan feeling the edge of it roll off his mental shields. They held, rather easily once his resistance bled it dry, but an impressive technique all the same.
"I. Im. Immortality." The man stammered, shaking from the effort. His eyes widened more, pupils dilating as his body convulsed. "It. It is for the Emperor's glory. For his Asc. Ascension. It is an honour to die for him."
Synar sniffed, the pureblood's neck breaking without any visible gestures. His admiral, soldiers and officers joined him with perfect synchronicity. "Do not speak for me. The fleet will have to be purged, my own people summoned. Tiresome."
"A moment, Darth Synar." Morgan interrupted. Her face had reverted to the same blank slate it had been before, making an out-with-it gesture. "Thank you. Melicoste is a spy sent by Darth Baras, one whose purpose I find disagreeable. I ask your permission to kill him."
She waved her hand dismissively. "Just him. Probably more trouble than he's worth anyway, but I need the other two."
Melicoste moved first, hesitation gone along with his cover. The man's lightsaber snapped to hand as he cleared the room in the time it took one to blink, his supposed allies backing down as Soft Voice shook his head. Reluctantly, but they backed down.
Morgan leaned to the side, letting the lightsaber go wide. "Don't telegraph your strikes like that."
A construct of Force was pulled apart before it could form, making the man hiss, and Melicoste growled as Morgan kicked him in the back. Not hard, either, but just enough to stumble. To make a point.
Left, step and twist. Left, step and lean back. Pull apart another technique, one that did something nasty to the throat, and chide the man for being slow. Slap him over the head and twirl, an ineffective dodge that nonetheless made the sith miss.
Make him trip by sacrificing first blood, the burn on Morgan's arm closing slowly as he concentrated. Bait a charge by seeming more distracted than he was, chuckling mockingly when fingers closed over nothing but air.
To think he once found sith Lords intimidating. Then again, maybe he'd been fighting apprentices for too long. The ones actually worth something.
"You've made your point, Lord Caro." Darth Synar said, impatient but sounding however slightly off. "Don't waste my time."
Morgan's hand snapped out, catching Melicoste by the shoulder. A twist and sweep, disarming the man and putting him in a secure hold, let Morgan whisper in his ear. "And they say I fight without skill. You should have spent more time sparring, my slow friend."
Melicoste grew still as Morgan wrestled control away from the man, locking muscle as he disconnected the spine. The sith Lord fell, boneless, as Morgan straightened. His leg filled with energy to the point he could just about control it, stomping down.
The detonation of blood hadn't been intentional, his skull exploding rather than shattering, but he managed to play it off as intentional. Soft Voice didn't seem convinced, then he wasn't the target audience.
Thos and Medechas seemed properly intimidated, at least.
Synar walked closer, ignoring the blood and bone as she smiled. "Well, you're just everything they say, aren't you? I think I'll leave this mess to you, hunting down the cultist and all that. There shouldn't be more than five thousand or so, if my reasoning isn't off."
"It's about time someone created chaos." She whispered, walking past. It seemed strangely flat, until he realised she created the sound just outside his ear. "Sowed some disorder. This Empire of ours is stagnating, forgetting strife in favour of fanaticism. Do visit me if you grow bored of leading this invasion, oh Lord of mine. I've always had an interest in biology."
She didn't quite wink, Morgan was thankful she didn't, but her tone bordered on the flirtatious. He chose to ignore it, nodding instead, and turned to the other two sith Lords. "Are either of you dissatisfied with me taking charge?"
"No." Thos muttered, the word seeming to pain him. He bowed his head, followed a moment later by Medechas. Morgan raised an eyebrow. "No, Lord Caro."
"Good. Find me someone who doesn't want to drain this galaxy of life and has some authority in the invasion. My people will be in contact."
Morgan turned, followed by his two silent friends. That lasted until they got to the hangar housing the Aurora, Chosen and Enosis guarding the perimeter. A good show of unity, he found.
Soft Voice spoke with the tone of someone hiding their mirth. "You know, I'm starting to think you took us just because you wanted to show off. Flirt with your new lady friend."
"If you mean the hundred and twenty pounds of killing machine pretending to be one, then no. I most assuredly was not."
"Then why'd you humiliate the poor man? Because, just for clarity, that was a peace time Lord. Someone who doesn't spend much time sparring with equals, let alone hone their skills against jedi Masters and prodigious Lords."
Morgan snorted. "If you want to be alone with your ego, just say the word."
"I was talking about dear Lady Beniko, of course. Though I'm not so bad myself."
"People don't have an answer to his enhanced strength." Lana replied, ignoring Soft Voice's remark. "Nor durability. Now that he has resistance their best weapon is blunted, let alone the fact he fights unconventionally. Lightsabers are used because any not wielding one is dead after a single mistake. Few are prepared to fight one that doesn't care, build his style on it, and then spend most of his time perfecting said style."
"I can't tell if you're complimenting me or not."
Lana ignored him. "Darth Synar hesitated. Not while you were humiliating the man, that brought little but amusement, but afterwards. When you killed him like you did. She hesitated, though I could only speculate on why."
"Because few Darth's are used to seeing someone like him?" Soft Voice mused. "Could be she wasn't sure she could take all three of us."
Morgan shrugged. "Maybe she saw an Other. A few of them are lurking around, though not doing much. Remember what happened when I showed you one last week?"
"I do." The devaronian shuddered, scowling at him. "You ambushed me."
"I was preparing you for the unexpected."
"That sure fucking counted. Next time you feel like playing with the eldritch, leave me out of it. I don't think they share the same fondness for me as they do you."
"Be like that. Lana?"
"I do not wish to be hollowed out and possessed by an entity from beyond, no. I think I shall pass."
Morgan slowed, tilting his head. "That can happen?"
"What?" She snapped her head around to face him, scowling when she saw him grin. "You play the fool almost as well as you play the warrior."
"Ouch."
Soft Voice shrugged. "She isn't wrong. Either way, the station is yours. As is the invasion, for that matter. Don't think Synar wanted to be in charge of that anyway, but all the same. What now?"
"Now we purge the cultists, which will conveniently necessitate recalling all Imperial forces to our established beachheads, then ensure no one wakes something they shouldn't have. You know, since the rakata put stuff here they either couldn't, or didn't want to, eliminate. Inform Quinn there's a standing kill order on anyone messing with shit they don't have clearance for. I'm not dying because someone accidently released the World Eater Nine Thousand."
Soft Voice grinned. "But think of the treasures found within."
"I'm sure no one will be that stupid." Lana reasoned. Morgan shot her an encouraging smile, glad for the voice of reason. "Greed and a lust for power always combine to create reasonable, level headed individuals, after all."
Morgan abandoned his encouragement, striding towards the Aurora with renewed speed. "I hope both of you die down in a tomb. Now, let's go ensure Krannus's cult doesn't carry on his mission, shall we? I, personally, find saving the galaxy a good use of my time."
﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌
"Can you people stop struggling?" Inara asked, glaring down at the row of prisoners. Nearly four dozen, everything from navy-engineers to soldiers to cooks. "No? Lieutenant, shoot anyone that looks to be escaping."
Chosen raised their blasters as a third continued to fight, restraints be damned. The rest flinched back, staring at faceless soldiers as they prepared to obey the order. "Better. Your admiral, the new one, has given my Lord his full cooperation. He, in turn, tasked me with rooting out the people that think draining the galaxy of life is a good idea. Trust me, he isn't going to care if I get a little thorough."
"Glory in death!" One of the prisoners screamed, having managed to dislodge his gag. "Honour in service!"
He stood, a surge of suicidal strength letting him slip past the Chosen moving to intercept, and Inara slapped him down. Hard enough he bounced, too, though only once. Two of her men wrestled him back into place, shackling him to the woman in front.
Inara looked them over one last time, nodding. "Good. We're going to move, now, and anyone that tries to run will get shot. Lieutenant?"
"Squad one, lead. Squad three, herd. Two and four to the side. Let's get these prisoners to interrogation in one piece."
She tuned out the man as they got moving, watching the madness-touched souls closely. She had the easy job, really. Just collect and escort. Sure, since she was sith she got the high risk prisoners, those where the cult had numbers, but it was nothing compared to Jaesa's job.
She had the dubious honour of ensuring no sleeper agents remained behind, a crucial but draining task. Still, her Lord was right. Leaving them be, poised to turn on them, was a non-starter.
And hey, soon she, Alyssa and Jeasa were going down to the planet. With their Master, no less. That usually meant he was going to kill time by imparting wisdom on them. Always a good day.
Especially when Jaesa got flustered by being given knowledge she deemed restricted. Like the rules applied to apprentices of Lord Caro. Honestly.
The only thing to complain about was the mounting pressure to keep up. Of internalising lessons he himself learned in days, if not figured out on his own, but which took them weeks. When working together, even.
Something as simple as 'create an extra spleen', and she sounded sarcastic even in her own head, had been nearly impossible. Until he'd realised that, simplified the steps, and they managed it on the trip over. Bit strange, having extra organs, but useful.
If only it hadn't come with the shame of being found wanting.
"You look glum." Alyssa noted as she arrived at the drop-off point, making her smile. The pureblood always had that power, though more so when they were off-duty. "Something go wrong?"
Her girlfriend's own line of prisoners was already being processed, more Chosen and regulars present to keep everyone in line. Those cleared of suspicion were taken back to their duties, usually with the order to create a list of responsibilities now vacant.
Inara was more than happy she wasn't responsible for replacing them.
The cultists, on the other hand, were detained. Mass execution had been a popular choice, though her Lord had vetoed the idea. Something about morale and due process, meaning they were to be sent back to the Empire. She found it somewhat redundant, seeing as they had been under orders of an incredibly high ranked Imperial, but maybe there was some benefit to it she didn't see.
"No. Just thinking about my spleens."
"Ah. That had been somewhat embarrassing, hadn't it?
"Tell me about it. I can't tell if he's getting worse at judging how normal people learn or if he keeps putting too much faith in our skill. And Jaesa said something about Naga Sadow?"
Alyssa rolled her eyes. "That wasn't true. He went to meditate down a mine, which I'll grant is a little strange, but she just made that up to freak us out."
"It worked." Inara muttered, reaching over. She felt her girlfriend's power mingle with her own, combining in a manner that felt more natural than doing it alone. The would-be runaway was pulled pack, soldiers slamming him down to the floor when he came in reach. "Think there's going to be another exercise?"
"Don't know, but probably not. Real missions will have to suffice."
Inara shrugged. "I liked it. The training afterwards was good, too. Focused."
"True. What do you think he suspects is trapped on the planet? He sure seemed annoyed that anyone was stupid enough to inhabit the system, let alone mess with things they didn't understand."
"I suppose we'll find out." Inara paused, nodding to the lieutenant as he signalled her. "And it looks like they don't need us here anymore. Back to work."
An hour turned to two, that turning to four, and before long she was lost in an endless transport of prisoners. Finding out what didn't work, such as threats of bodily harm, and discovering the cultists were surprisingly easy to fool. She even managed to have some of them point out their fellows, believing her to be an undercover asset.
Some tried to run, or fight or beg. It became a boring chore after the sixth time they tried to blow themselves up, yet another group having managed to smuggle weapons out of the armouries, but nothing really touched her. Grenades were disarmed, a trick Jaesa had figured out and shared, while blaster fire was returned with minimal difficulty.
Then someone tried to convince her killing herself was a great idea, actually, and she had a brief lapse of restraint. The woman fell, still with that fake grin on her face, and Inara exhaled as she sheathed her lightsaber. Her men said nothing, of course, but she just knew this was going to get back to her Lord.
Which sucked, because he seemed to have figured out she really didn't like long speeches about self-control and discipline. None of them did, which she supposed made for effective punishment.
Inara turned to the lieutenant, the woman bowing her head as she did. "My Lady?"
"Anything I could say that would make you not report that? Threats of harm, maybe?"
"Apologies, ma'am. All casualties have to be logged and verified. Applying for form eleven-fourteen, nicknamed the rightful turn to violence, would see you exempt from remedial ethics classes. If it is accepted, of course."
"I'm not particularly concerned about it being logged." Inara leaned closer, the woman mimicking her by instinct. "Just that Lord Caro doesn't hear about it. I'd consider it a personal favour, if you understand my meaning."
The lieutenant's answer was a whisper, as if afraid of being overheard. "I was there when the second round of Chosen was reinforced, my Lord performing the operation in person. He put a hand on my shoulder for ten minutes, perhaps, if not less. Nine years of nerve damage was fixed, nine years of pain no meds could dull. Four years of phantom limb syndrome, my left leg taken by an improvised explosive. I could feel it grow, feel the absence of pain, and it was sweeter than any drug I've ever taken. Sweeter even then the strength and stamina."
"With respect, ma'am." The lieutenant said, straightening. "I would rather crawl over broken glass than spit in the face of that miracle."
Inara nodded like that was exactly what she wanted to hear. "Good. Carry on, lieutenant."
The soldier saluted, Inara turned around, and it was only with the greatest control that she kept the scowl off her face. Now she was going to get lectured about attempting to subvert the chain of command.
Dammit.
But, at last, her shift ended. She could relax as the cult became someone else's problem, Enosis sith rotating in to deal with the hard targets, and she briefly wondered when she began thinking of them as 'Enosis sith'. True, she had been with her Lord longer than she'd been with the order that recruited her, but she had felt on loan.
Almost like an intern, learning the trade before returning to the fold. But now all she sensed was a distant echo of comradery, acknowledging their shared cause but little more. Apart, even if ultimately answering to the same people. Alone.
Fortunately, Alyssa was there to remind her she was very far from alone. Still, time seemed to fly when she was actually having fun, and soon enough she found herself standing next to her fellow apprentices. Watching her Master banter with the Lord of the Enosis, though exact words were lost. Having some sort of argument, she suspected, though not about anything serious.
Lord Caro was very intense when he got serious.
Lady Beniko wasn't there, which was a shame, but Inara still felt this party was somewhat lacking. Only twenty Chosen, five sith and one shuttle. Only that to take command over a military operation that might very well object, even if it was a sith Lord doing the commanding.
An estimated hundred thousand Imperial troops were on the planet, doing everything from securing the landing site to arming prison gangs. Plenty of sith too, though only rather low ranked ones. People even she, Alyssa and Jaesa could intimidate. Nothing like the Enosis, of course, but perhaps a hundred or so?
Few graduated Korriban without being someone's apprentice, but some Master's took that duty more serious than others. A number of them traded apprentices like bargaining chips, securing military aid in exchange for their services. Not trained soldiers, and usually causing trouble without a stronger sith to keep them in line, but a useful tool.
Or so the briefing had said, anyway. She herself hadn't met one.
Still, a party of twenty five to command a tenth of a million? Twenty six is she was being pedantic, though she didn't think the pilot was actually going to leave the craft.
"What are you doing?" Alyssa whispered, casting her a disapproving glare. "This isn't the time to mutter to yourself, love."
"Love?"
The pureblood blushed, something Inara had spent an not inconsiderable time learning to notice. "I heard a crewman say it."
"Let's not pick up habits from the peasantry." Inara replied dryly, taking care to keep her voice down. "And I was thinking about how we're going to commandeer an invasion's worth of people with just the twenty five of us."
Alyssa raised an eyebrow. "I'm thinking they'll be somewhat busy rooting out the cultists in their ranks. You won't believe this, but most people don't actually want to die for the Emperor. It was smart to spread that around, especially after leaving out that it was on the personal command of the Emperor himself. Wouldn't be surprised if overall loyalty were to go down, honestly. No one likes being a pawn, and the cult was rather highly placed."
"Especially a sacrificial one." Inara finished, conceding the point. "Still, we weren't exactly gentle when taking over command."
"No one expects sith to be gentle in the first place."
Jaesa stepped closer, apparently tired of being left out. "They really don't, but neither would I be surprised if command is happy with Lord Caro taking over. I felt a lot of relief when it happened with the fleet, mostly centred around his reputation of non-interference. There's a reason colonel Quinn managed to recruit even when Baras set a moff to block him. People like fighting for a side that fights for them in turn, or at the very least doesn't spend their lives without care."
Inara's reply was cut off as they entered the atmosphere, a host of sensations assaulting her mind. Alyssa joined with her when she reached over, intertwining power to share the overload of information. Jaesa was used to it, trained to narrow her focus at a moment's notice, but her own was somewhat lacking.
Normally it was fine, even if going from space to civilization was jarring, but this was different. So many pseudo-souls screaming into the void, like the sun bearing down on eyes used to the dark. She eased off as Alyssa did the same, reluctantly releasing their bond when the sensation passed.
Their training called for it, and this was exactly the sort of situation why. Working together was good, but not if they became reliant on it.
"You three alright?" Lord Caro asked, having half turned to look at them. She nodded, wiping the last trace of strain from her face. "The rakata used the Force extensively in their civilisation, being a species naturally connected to it, and it seems their prison-world still contains a large number of functional artefacts. I'll have to sharpen restrictions around looting. No need for some poor bastard to get burned out because they thought it was manageable."
All three nodded, their Lord turned back around, and Jaesa shook her head. "Rakatan technology is famously advanced, but without cleansing their corrupted nature they have a tendency to try and rebuild their 'Glorious Infinite Empire'. Karr and I talked with an expert, once. Some collector that had hired a banished jedi. Sold them for well over half a billion each, if I remember correctly. Tiny little things capable of nothing special, yet buyers fought over them fiercely."
Inara shrugged, uncaring about vast wealth. What was money compared to instruction no credits could buy, fortune over claiming a lifespan of centuries? No, any money she'd make would go back to the Enosis. Even if she ever needed something, something she couldn't simply requisition, money wasn't really an issue for people capable of healing with a touch.
There were always old, rich people desperate for another year of life.
Shame they couldn't monopolise that as an organisation, but such was irony. Probably one of the largest unified collection of healers, not counting the jedi, and trying to earn money by selling their services would see them cast out by the Empire.
Use the Force for bloody conquest? Expected. Praised. Use it to make people's lives better? Scorned. Taboo. Bordering on treasonous.
Still, something to bring up with the colonel. Vette probably had contacts which she could leverage, and the average healer within the Enosis was capable of much more than they used to.
Not like they lacked for income streams, for now, but who knew? Might get her out of that scolding she was due. Inara let the idle daydream play as they descended further, slowly adapting her sight to all the Force identities screaming into the void. Most of them were whispering, really, though one was somewhat worrisome.
"Master, should we be worried about the thing chained to the center of the planet?"
Lord Caro shook his head, not even turning. She didn't notice Lord Zethix look up in surprise. "Nope. Anyone, and I do mean anyone, comes close to that and I'm having them killed. Imperials, looters, prisoners. Knowing what it is or not, Republic or not, everyone dies. First order of business is ensuring we get some of our people to keep an eye on the place, from a very safe distance."
"Understood."
She didn't understand. She was also fine with that, because it meant she didn't have to deal with it. If he said it wasn't a problem, then it wasn't a problem. Reevaluating when new information came to light was a fine strategy, anyway. One that cut down on much unnecessary stress.
The craft landed while she was contemplating the nature of responsibility, storing it away for later use. Always good to have ready made arguments in case Alyssa decided on a non-combat contest. Still, fun would have to wait.
Because outside the craft, just past the landing site that looked carved out of a courtyard, hundreds of souls stood at attention. An entire company of men and women, a rough estimate put them at two hundred and fifty, with armour polished to mirror shine. The general in charge of it all, one Calum Oppos, stood ahead of them. Young, relatively speaking, but having served a distinguished career across half the galaxy.
Distinguished enough he was chosen to lead a division two and a half times the normal size.
His profile had made him look stern, and Inara would admit his back was straight and his shoulder squared, but past the physical she felt a healthy dose of fear. Probably one of the few people here who actually had access to the file on what her Master had been up to.
"My Lord." Calum greeted, voice gravelly. Not the normal kind, either. It spoke of damage not fully repaired. "Welcome to Belsavis. It is my understanding Darth Synar has handed over operational command to you?"
"So she has. Suspend all operations, abort any active missions. This planet is a deathtrap frozen in misery, and the Empire will not be responsible for waking up horrors beyond mortal comprehension. Each and every assignment will go through my people from this point onwards."
Calum looked like he was trying very hard not to curse. "While your assistance with Executor Krannus is appreciated, Lord, a number of missions are time critical. Aborting them now would be a grave mistake."
"Rescuing various sith Lords, Darths and more, I'm aware." Lord Caro shrugged. "But I don't need your approval, general. They have waited years, they can wait another week. I will not have you set free some long forgotten Darth driven mad by isolation, merrily carving his way through Imperial troops. All further missions will go through my people. Is that clear?"
"Crystal, Lord."
"Good. Contrary to what you might think, I'm not here to make your life difficult. I am here to bring some much needed clarity to the situation, because randomly digging around on a rakatan prison-planet is possibly the worst choice anyone could have ever made. Shall we?"
The man nodded, the displeasure and fear he felt whisked away behind iron shields. Inara narrowed her eyes. Fake?
Inara switched to internal comms, having put on her helmet shortly before leaving the craft. "Jaesa, what's his deal?"
"He has emotional inhibitors." She replied, tracking the man. "Strong ones. Activated them after the meeting started, which implies there's a cost to using them. Could be an issue if someone orders him to turn on us."
"Does it work on your power?"
A snort came over the comms, amusement bleeding out of her posture. "No. No it does not. Even-keeled thanks to the augments, and true to his word. Loyal to the Empire, which means he'll obey as long as no one higher ranked shows up. Someone like Darth Baras, for example. Unsurprised to learn this planet used to be a rakatan facility, but readjusting his assessment on how dangerous it is."
"Not a cultist, then?"
"No. Neither are his officers, though I can't scan the ones not here." Jaesa motioned for them to walk, following the party as they went inside. "Hope I won't have to spend the next two weeks clearing this place."
Inara shared her concern, though to a lesser extent. "Probably not. The fleet had to be cleared because one zealot in a good position could do untold damage. Here, with just their weapons? Scanning high-command will be enough."
Alyssa budded in, the conversation switching to their possible assignments, and Inara stood still and impressive as her Lord and the general hashed out some agreement. Lord Zethix left after half an hour, citing the need to oversee troop deployment, and then another hour passed before they were done standing around.
Not something she really minded doing, especially when she could pass the time chatting in private, but boring all the same. It did finally give her a chance to ask questions, though. "My Lord?"
"Hmm?" Lord Caro said, sealing his helmet. Sound dampening and comms were ever so useful for privacy. "Speak your mind, Inara."
"Thank you, Lord. Why are we capturing the cultists? They have earned death twice over, and you would face no opposition if you were to space them all."
Her Master shrugged. "That's true. What would that look like, do you think? Men and women that only grasp the edge of why it is happening, watching thousands of bodies drift outward into the void? The rumours that would erupt if prisoners were to enter a room and never leave?"
"Justice?"
"Legally, sure. Vengeance would probably fit too. But not many people will grasp why they needed to die. Why, having already been neutralised, that extra step was taken. They would begin to doubt, both their officers and their commitment. Would they be next? Would a night of technically illegal gambling see them executed?"
Inara wasn't so sure many would think twice about it, but she saw the point. "I understand, Lord. But returning them to the Empire? They will most probably be released, to continue to plot against us. Continue their work, somewhere else if not Belsavis."
"I'm sending them back to the Empire." He corrected. "I never said they would arrive. No. The Republic will be more than eager to take that particular problem out of my hands, earning themselves more than a little intelligence in the process."
Jaesa hummed. "And they would learn what the cult was doing, how they were stopped, and that you do not stand for mass slaughter or galaxy ending plots."
"A fringe benefit, I assure you. I would never be so crude as to leverage thousands of souls for my own image."
Alyssa shook her head in silent amusement, Inara bowing her head. "I see. Thank you for explaining, Lord."
"Quite literally my job. Don't worry about it. Speaking of, I have one for you three. Jaesa, do a casual scan. I want to know if Baras has backup and counter-plots stashed away. Inara, Alyssa, combined scouting. Try and get your sight sharp enough to see the soul properly, but do not interact with it. I want a report on what emotion looks like down at that level."
Jaesa sighed deeply, nodding. "Do I get a 'learning opportunity' as well?"
"Of course." He beamed, and Inara could almost hear him smile. "Nothing to do with souls, I assure you. Automation, especially for a power like yours, is a must. See if you can trick yourself into always keeping it active, endlessly scanning those around you. Low level, of course, and try to focus on intention. Shallow information overload paired with fleshcrafting regeneration should adapt the brain to parse the information. If you get a migraine, rest. No need for a written report, but I do want to hear what you've learned."
He waved goodbye, casual in ways she was just about getting used to, and Inara scowled. "Why don't you have to write a report?"
"Because I can actually articulate Force reflexes properly?" Jaesa responded, shrugging. "Don't complain, I'm the one who has to spend the next few hours learning to relearn my powers. And incorporate fleshcrafting, somehow. Mountains of fun."
Alyssa shook her head in disappointment. "How far we've strayed. Not too long ago we would have jumped at the chance of expert instruction, glimpsing power far beyond our station. Now we complain about having to be mildly uncomfortable for a few hours?"
"I reserve the right to protest." Inara muttered, seeing Jaesa nod along. "Also, I have work to do. We have work to do, in fact. Coming?"
Her girlfriend shook her head again, even more disappointed, while Jaesa shrugged. "Sure. I can do my assignment alone just as well as with you."
They set out, ignoring the soldiers and sith looking at them. One of their number would have been dangerous, someone to stay clear of. All three? Not even the most Dark-enthralled sith was going to start something they couldn't finish. Which suited her just fine, really.
It let her observe the staging ground for the largest prison break in recorded history. Not even the Empire used an entire world for that purpose, though Belsavis was mostly covered in ice. Still, it held the record for most dangerous prisoners held in one location. The hutts had a number of moons for similar purposes, but then it was hard to distinguish between prisoners and slaves with them.
Why waste someone's valuable labour locking them away? If they were that dangerous, killing them would be much safer, regardless. Only the Republic could waste this much resources on beings they had no use for, even if the rakata had done most of the work.
Not this part, though. This was built not too long ago. A former light-security complex, by the looks of it. Taken over and modified by the Empire, hasty fortifications put in place. A good location, she would admit, with natural defences in the form of ice walls, but clearly not a professionally built military installation.
Then again, not like they were planning to be here long. The Republic would marshall their forces sooner rather than later, retake the prison and probably execute what few sith the Empire hadn't managed to rescue.
She sure hoped so, anyway. Long term containment was one thing, especially when your prison was a secret, but after it had been cracked once? They'd have to station a permanent fleet to stop the Empire from coming right back, draining even more resources. No way even the Republic would be that wasteful, right?
Right?
Inara shook her head, finding her two companions already busy with training. She joined them after casting one last look at the thing buried down at the planet, wondering why the sith stationed here weren't as freaked out as she was.
Used to it, maybe. Or uncaring. Either way she had work to do. Skills to sharpen.
It never occurred to her they couldn't feel it.
Afterword
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