The incessant rain drummed against the viewports of the walker, wearing down Anakin's already thin patience.
They had been on the move for a solid day. The equipment sank in oceans of mud and swamps into which the planet's surface had turned the moment the rains started. Rain and mud, slush and quagmire... The complete opposite of the arid Tatooine he had left many years ago. And to which he had internally sworn never to return.
But this planet irritated him more and more.
This battle, this war... They had dragged on too long.
Three dozen Jedi under Obi-Wan's command had been sent to this damned planet. To restore law and order to this rotten world.
The rot... it was everywhere. Not only on the planet, but also in the minds of the local nationalists. In the minds of the Separatists who supported them. In the minds of the Republic forces...
Thousands of clones and a boundless ocean of equipment had been given to Obi-Wan to destroy the Separatist filth.
And the very first defense of Outpost Base showed what all those bureaucratic calculations on datapads were worth. No matter how much of a Chosen One he was (in the Temple, they only whispered about it, but here, on Jabiim, they already spoke openly), when he spotted the swift attack of the local nationalist leader — Stratus and his "Nimbus" special forces — he couldn't stop them.
The enemy's swift attack damaged or destroyed a significant portion of the Republic's heavy equipment. The vaunted AT-ATs and self-propelled guns simply got stuck in the mud and fell victim to enemy missile volleys.
Not opponents... enemies. After an explosion from one of the self-propelled guns nearly killed Obi-Wan and Ahsoka, Anakin could no longer consider this battle something detached. It had become personal for him.
Anakin knew he should keep his emotions under control — since he couldn't curb them and renounce them, as the Jedi demanded. How difficult it was... None of them understood him. Only the Chancellor could support the Jedi lost in doubt. His words always helped Anakin, healed his emotional wounds.
Rallsema Billissura, Dalnus Kam, and Sana Jis-Illova. Who would heal their wounds? They had died in all this chaos. Several more Jedi were missing. They couldn't be felt in the Force, so Obi-Wan assumed they were dead too.
Deaths, losses, disappointment...
If he were in power, if his opinion mattered — this war would have ended long ago. Traitors must die, the loyal must be elevated. All this flirting of the Senate with the Separatists... It was disgusting. It defiled the memory of the fallen.
Anakin forcefully drove the harmful thoughts away.
He needed to pull himself together. He needed to rally the scattered squads, gather his strength into a fist, and hold on until Obi-Wan came to. He would be able to figure out what to do next. For now, they just had to hold on...
* * *
Gazing at the holographic map of the galaxy, Master Kit Fisto's thoughts were far from Coruscant.
The losses of recent weeks bloomed like fresh wounds on the Nautolan's mighty heart.
He didn't consider himself sentimental, but the loss of his former Padawan... He had seen Nadar's death at Grievous's hands with his own eyes. The merciless machine had easily disposed of the impatient young Jedi Knight. Fisto silently, as befits a Jedi, endured this blow, though he took it to heart.
Returning to the Temple, he was inconsolable. There weren't many amphibious race mentors for Padawans. During the training, Kit had grown close to the restless Mon Calamari. That made his loss incredibly hard.
The Council had given him time to recover. And while most of the Council members were at the front or on important assignments, he was healing his emotional wounds.
A voice-call alert drew his attention. Activating the holocomm, he answered the greeting with a slight grinding of his snow-white teeth.
"Master Dougan," according to rumors, the man had been seriously wounded after an encounter with a dark acolyte. Many younglings and Padawans vied with each other to tell tales of how disfigured the most outstanding Jedi had become. Rumor claimed it was because of his injuries that the new commander of the 13th Sector Army never removed his mask. Perhaps.
Oh, even with his face hidden, he had managed to drive a wedge between Fisto and Secura. Kit wouldn't be a Master if he couldn't read between the lines.
"Master Fisto," the man bowed. In his armor, he looked very much like the ancient Jedi. The very ones who had filled the Jedi home thousands of years before this day. However, rumors circulating through the Temple attributed his attire to the Sith. "I have successfully completed the mission. Jabba's son is safe."
"Excellent," Kit assessed. Whatever friction might have arisen between him and this man, it was not proper to mix it with personal matters. Aayla saw Vosa in him — the irrepressible, carefree Kiffar. She would soon realize that passion for a man was fleeting. And Fisto's tender feelings... "But the thing is, Jabba recently changed the terms."
"Indeed?" The Jedi's voice didn't sound surprised. "And what now?"
"He demands that the organizer of his son's kidnapping be delivered to him no later than two days from now," Fisto checked the Council's records, making an adjustment for the day that had passed since receiving the report. "Master Unduli should have already returned to Tatooine, but for some reason, she isn't responding."
"Oh," was all the Jedi replied. "Well, I think I have something to surprise him with..."
The Jedi bowed and disconnected.
Kit looked thoughtfully at the spot where the hologram of the Hero of Christophsis had just been. Decidedly, he was similar to Vosa. The only question was whether this Jedi Master would remain loyal to the Order.
* * *
Sate Pestage, trusted advisor to the former Senator and now the Chancellor himself, Palpatine, slipped into the latter's private office, silently closing the door behind him.
Palpatine, without looking up from his desktop monitor, waved him over like an old acquaintance, as if to say, come here.
They had known each other for a very long time. So long that Sate was sometimes called the Chancellor's relative. However, on the latter's advice, Pestage neither denied nor confirmed these rumors. The uncertainty of his true position would make some fear him, and others — grovel.
"There is news, my lord," Sate said quietly.
"I'm listening," Sheev still didn't look up from his work. But that didn't mean the Sith wasn't paying attention.
Oh, yes. Sate Pestage, through years of service, knew Palpatine's secret. One of the few, he was initiated into all of his secrets. And he had always remained loyal to his master.
"There's unrest in the Senate," he began. "Regarding the new bill..."
Palpatine's lips curled upward.
"The Law on Strengthening and Reinforcing Security Measures," he recited from memory. "We anticipated it would cause a split in the Senate. But our supporters are holding their positions."
"At the same time, the Loyalists are plotting something," Pestage said, narrowing his eyes. Catching the Chancellor's interested gaze, he hastened to add, "Bail Organa has been seen in the company of Finis Valorum."
"Is that so," a flicker of surprise crossed the Chancellor's face. "How interesting."
"Indeed," the advisor agreed. "He sat quietly for two years, and now he's building bridges. Organa is undoubtedly just a representative."
"Unquestionably," the Chancellor concurred. "The Alderaanian would never have dared such an adventure on his own. After the vote of no confidence, the senators lost their trust in Valorum. And now, after all this time..."
The Chancellor stood. Slowly, he walked to the large panoramic window of his office, peering at the outlines of the city buildings.
"I should have made our position clear to him immediately after that wretched little book was published," he hissed. "How can anyone be so thick-headed. There will be no triumphant return. The House of Valorum needs to understand that their political career is over."
Sate Pestage nodded mechanically, agreeing with his superior's words.
Over the past thousand years, the House of Valorum could boast a significant number of its members who had held the office of Supreme Chancellor of the Galactic Republic. And from one Valorum to the next, their thirst for power and wealth only grew. The Senate indulged them just long enough for them to completely lose all sense of decency and turn their post into a lucrative position, not hesitating to take bribes from various scum like the Trade Federation.
No one favored the former Chancellor. During the years he spent in seclusion, he was naturally watched, but the new Chancellor was always comforted by the thought that the senators who had stabbed Valorum in the back had turned away from him. Now, the Loyalists, undoubtedly represented by the senator from Alderaan, were planning to play an already beaten card.
Sate Pestage understood, and therefore Palpatine knew, that the return of Finis Valorum to the political arena was nothing more than a gesture of desperation from the Loyalist Committee. During a period of strengthening Palpatine's power, there would be no shortage of those willing to go against the general course of the current Chancellor's cabinet. Just out of spite. Palpatine had stepped on many throats and gotten rid of many, cleansing and sanitizing the Senate. His supporters were helping to make the state better, and if it weren't for the interference of such ideological fanatics as Amidala, Mothma, Iblis, Organa — the reforms would already be working for the benefit of the Republic.
"What are your orders, Chancellor?" Pestage inquired.
"Nothing," Palpatine cut him off. "Let them play with their former Chancellor. He won't stop me anyway... Speaking of obstacles. Sate Pestage, what is the status of the rescue operation for Jabba's son?"
"Our spies report that Jedi Master Rick Dougan," the Chancellor's eyebrow rose in surprise — "has freed Jabba's son and is heading to Tatooine."
* * *
Walking slowly through the night desert, I couldn't stop rejoicing that both suns had disappeared below the horizon. The surface of Tatooine was covered in blessed coolness. Not wanting to waste the armor's filter resources, I detached my face mask and enjoyed the cool air.
Immediately upon arriving in the Tatoo system, the Hammer Fleet was met by a motley fleet of Hutts. Looking at the collection of vessels with varying degrees of rust, which, to put it mildly, were in no way comparable to our ships, Pellaeon suggested dispersing this colorful company and fighting our way to the planet.
Our situation was... not the most pleasant. The Hutts outnumbered us, and on top of that, they were blocking our communications. We couldn't report the unpleasant turn of events to command. We couldn't break out of the system without a fight either. The Hutts, true to their mentality, were forcing us to play by their rules.
"A pity, but I'll have to decline your offer, Commodore," I said sadly. In the cartoon, the arrival of the Huttlet happened quite differently. And, by the Force, may I be damned if our "welcoming committee" wasn't Dooku's doing. I could sense the Dark Side on Tatooine, so I had to prepare for another battle. Dooku understands how important the Hutt is for his and our plans. "Keep the ships on constant alert. Don't open fire first, but be ready to defend to the last and fight your way out."
Once we form an alliance with the Hutts, their hyperspace routes will allow us to deliver supplies, reinforcements, and equipment from Rothana and Kamino faster. And the more forces we can throw to the front lines, and the faster we do it, the quicker the Separatists' retreat will be.
Jabba's majordomo — the Twi'lek Bib Fortuna — finally deigned to contact us and relayed the Hutt's demands: deliver his son on a transport, with one escort. No armed escort — the planet was completely under the control of the crime lord's flotilla. Only the laziest hadn't pointed out that the offer looked like a trap. However, starting a bloodbath when there was even the slightest chance of making peace with the Hutts...
With a sigh, I was forced to agree.
The minimum breakthrough team — me, Oli, and both ARCs.
After renting a Nu-class shuttle, we flew to the planet...
Just like in the cartoon, an ambush awaited us in the stratosphere...
I'll give credit where it's due, Balda and Alpha put in maximum effort to land the ship as smoothly as possible. Like a stone in a child's game of "skipping stones," we bounced across the sand dunes until we slammed into one of them. Cutting an exit in the hull with my lightsaber (the nose section was buried under a layer of sand), I pulled both clones and Oli, who had the little Hutt in her care, out into the air one by one.
Looking over my team, I suddenly realized that from this moment on, the mission had turned into a race for survival.
The heroic landing of the shuttle cost Alpha broken legs, and Balda a piece of the instrument panel stuck in his side. While the ship still had power, I hooked the clones up to the medical systems. Displaced fractures were causing Alpha incredible pain, so I put him and the other ARC into a medicated sleep while the medical droid worked on their insides.
"Will they survive?" the Padawan asked me. The Huttlet was also injured — a few impressive bruises, a dozen scratches. Covered in bacta patches, he was sleeping like a log in the aft section of the damaged shuttle.
"Most likely," I admitted, not really knowing. I was just going by the droid's conclusion that the prognosis was favorable. Watching the setting suns of Tatoo I and Tatoo II, I was already mentally planning the next course of action. "They're fine warriors, but they won't be able to help us on this mission."
"Are we going to walk to the Hutt's palace?" the girl clarified, sensing something was wrong.
"Not we — me. You'll stay here and guard the clones and the little Hutt."
"But, Master!.."
"No arguing. I'll fight my way to the palace and call for help. You need to protect the ship and the Hutt. I'll try to draw all the droid forces to myself — but you need to stay alert too. Dooku might figure things out and send assassins after you."
"Then why don't we just stay and wait for help?"
"Delay is death, Oli. If we don't meet with Jabba by dawn, the Hutt might switch sides to the Separatists. By the time everyone figures out who kidnapped the Hutt, who delivered him, who tried to stop it — a lot of time will pass. I'm afraid the Republic's plans won't come to fruition then."
With a heavy heart, I set off.
Loading the map into my wrist computer, I set a marker on Jabba's palace and began my journey from the desert to the abode of the king of the underworld.
I had about sixty kilometers to cover. An impossible task for an ordinary person — at night, and through the desert. But not for a well-versed Jedi...
"You're betting on that slug," the ghost of Valkorion appeared beside me. "Otherwise, you wouldn't have needed the compromising data from the Hutt's tomb."
"Criminals, with the right motivation, are also an army," I noted. "I've reviewed the records. If the Republic found out about the Hutt Council's dealings, a couple of sector armies would be cleansing Hutt Space of every slug. Jabba's name appears in many illegal operations — including ties to several senators."
"And you're going to take these creatures by the throat and force them to serve you?" the ghost smiled with satisfaction.
"That's the general idea," I agreed. "But I have to understand that the Council isn't stupid either. The Hutts, out of spite, might switch to the Separatists just to protect themselves from a Republic invasion — if I push too hard. And then I'd get nothing. Especially since the Hutts don't like the Republic or the Jedi. If I blackmailed them, they'd just send a legion of assassins and dump my mortal body into a gorge on some forgotten planet. My plan is more cunning."
"Hmm," the Emperor stroked his beard. "Jabba. You're making him your puppet."
It wasn't a question — it was a statement.
"He's implicated like all the others," I confirmed. "But, unlike the Council, his territory is outside Hutt Space. And more vulnerable than he thinks. Saving his son, plus the compromising material, will make him a suitable ally. He'll control the Hutt Council, and I'll control him. Besides, I'll soon have the kidnapper of his son in my hands as well. He's also the Hutt's main crime lackey on Coruscant. Jabba's uncle, Ziro. Mercenaries will deliver him to Christophsis, where Jabba and the other Hutts can't reach him. But I'll have a living witness and leverage."
"An excellent combination, my apprentice," Vitiate praised. "A multi-layered intrigue, worthy of true Sith. Cunning, blackmail..."
"I'm learning from you, Master."
"And your Empire is growing too," the ghost noted. "Korriban, Ziost, and a good half of Sith Space, Tython, Lehon, Yavin 4, Zakuul..."
"For now, I intend to limit myself to capturing Sith Space and the controlled worlds," I admitted. Seeing the unspoken question in the Emperor's eyes, I continued. "I don't have enough strength for a full-blooded defense of my worlds. In an open confrontation, the Republic or the CIS would crush me."
"That's why you ordered Malgus not to touch the Sith Space worlds occupied by the CIS?"
"And that's why Palpatine's bastard Prophets are still on Dromund Kaas. The Dromund system is still waiting for the Dark Temple to be visited by one worthy of the Emperor's legacy."
"I like your vision of the future, my apprentice," Valkorion smiled. "You've drawn the right conclusions from your past failures. Break the enemy in your oversector, and when the time comes, you'll be able to take control of Kamino and Rothana, depriving your opponents of their supply and reinforcement lines. With the support of the Kaminoan ruler, you've significantly eased your conquest of the galaxy."
"That's the plan, Master," I grinned. "Of course, its implementation is still far off, but the steps toward dominance have been taken. My secret army is preparing on Yavin 4. The battle droids from the New Forge will easily sweep away the CIS army and provide us with a reliable bridgehead in the North, while the 13th Sector Army and Hutt Space will remain loyal to me in the South. The Kaminoan government is under my control, and that will be an unpleasant surprise for the Sith — as soon as the third generation of clones joins the ranks of the Grand Army of the Republic. Without a doubt, most of the Jedi will die. But the survivors, along with my future new recruits, will be loyal enough to accept the teachings of the Je'daii in my interpretation. Without the clone supply from Kamino, the Republic won't last long. And the CIS will lose its strength by the end of the war."
"You intend to wage a war of attrition?" the Emperor asked with disgust.
"Oh, no, Master," I chuckled. "I haven't told you the whole plan yet. I desperately need my own man in the Unknown Regions..."
* * *
I sensed the enemy when there were barely ten kilometers left to Jabba's palace.
The power of the Dark Side blocked my path. Unobtrusively, an adept of the Dark Side was issuing me a challenge. And it was up to me whether to accept it or not.
Damn, I was so sick of all these lightsaber duels. Back on Earth, I used to scoff that there were hardly any such duels in the saga. Now, I wasn't too thrilled that another champion of the Dark Side had stood against me.
Without slowing my pace, I pressed the mask to my face, letting the computer seal my armor. To hell with it — if we're fighting, we're fighting.
Kicking up waves of sand dust, my opponent stopped on a luxurious speeder bike at the crest of a sand dune. The moonlight was behind him, so I couldn't make out his face. Actually, I wouldn't have been able to anyway — the villain, from whom the Dark Side was radiating, was wearing a damned cloak, and the hood hid his face. The enemy silently dismounted, yanked a being in dark, baggy clothes with a characteristic, recognizable headdress from the passenger seat.
"Master Unduli?" Without a doubt, my voice dripped with surprise. "What are you doing here?"
The Mirialan silently raised her hands, bound with shock cuffs. Shame and embarrassment emanated from her, which was highly uncharacteristic for such a skilled master.
"She's my prisoner, Jedi," the tall Weequay said, throwing back his hood with a jerk. His eyes gleamed with amber fire, and the Dark Side of the Force surged around him like a tsunami.
"Bloody hell!" I cursed mentally. "Why isn't it Dooku?"
According to the plot of the cartoon about the kidnapping of Jabba's son, on Tatooine, Skywalker and his Padawan were confronted by Count Dooku himself and his damned MagnaGuards. I admit, the change in the "canon" stressed me out.
To give you an idea of my level of confusion — Sora Bulq is a former Jedi Master, a legendary lightsaber combat instructor. Many in the Temple called him one of the best instructors in that field. In addition, unlike Dooku's Makashi, which I had studied well, Bulq mastered the Vaapad style — the seventh form of lightsaber combat. This form was created by Master Windu to replace the lost-in-time Juyo style. And, judging by the fact that Windu used it to wipe the floor with Palpatine across his entire office — the enemy's arsenal was more than impressive.
Plus, this bastard had captured Unduli. Which meant I'd have to fight not just for myself, but also rescue a hostage. If it were just me and Bulq one-on-one, I'd open myself to the Dark Side and disintegrate him into atoms (which was, in fact, my plan). But I couldn't use my secret arsenal in front of Unduli. Otherwise, I'd have to arrange a date with my lightsaber for her too...
What the hell was with all these ambushes?!
"I can see that," I said, drawing out my words. Then, glancing at the Jedi woman, I asked, "Master, are you alright?"
"Only my pride is wounded," Unduli said bitterly. "How could I believe you had returned to the light, Sora?!"
The Dark Acolyte laughed mockingly. With a careless shove, he pushed the Mirialan down the slope. I reacted, catching the Jedi with the Force and setting her on her feet. Seeing this, the Weequay laughed.
A lightsaber hilt appeared in his right hand, which a moment later blazed with a crimson light. Unduli extended her wrists, bound with shock cuffs, toward me, an unambiguous hint for me to free her. My first thought was to do just that. But then, a scene from the confrontation between Darth Bane and Darth Zannah against the Jedi on Tython surfaced in my memory... Shaking my head decisively, I gestured for her not to interfere. No way — I wasn't going to burden myself with help. To hell with all those disservices. Especially to my own beloved self.
"Give me the Hutt's son, Jedi, and we'll part peacefully!"
"Actually, he died in the crash," I informed him.
Sora shook with a fit of rage.
"Then I'll bring your corpse to Count Dooku!"
"Honestly, I have a better idea," I had to admit. "How about you put away your sword, and I'll let you live?"
The Weequay laughed mockingly again. Of course, I was just dust under his feet to him — if he had taken down a recognized master of Soresu like Luminara, then who was I to him? Too bad he didn't know who he was really facing.
"Choose, Jedi. Are you with me, or against me?"
Here we go again.
I looked sadly at my cloak. Well, damn it all. I'd have to order a new one. Again.
"Only blockheads turn everything into absolutes," the hilt of my sword leaped into my hand. The night darkness was illuminated by the golden-yellow light of the ancient weapon.
I never understood why the blade of Valkorion's son responded so warmly to me, but it pleased me. I liked this sword, and the unity with the Force that it gave me. I hadn't dug into the blade's internals, but I was almost certain the set of crystals in the hilt was masterfully chosen.
"Forgive me, Master Bulq," I spun the blade in front of me, surrounding myself with a Force Barrier. "But I will fulfill my duty."
* * *
Luminara winced, realizing she was relegated to the role of a mere observer. The Jedi recalled with slight irritation how her Consular-class cruiser had landed in the desert on Sora's beacon, calling out to her for help. How she berated herself for believing him. One mistake had led to the death of the entire crew. In a fierce confrontation, the former instructor had destroyed her lightsaber and captured the Mirialan. Now, instead of crossing blades with the former Jedi, she was forced to watch the battle unfolding before her.
Of course, there were rumors in the Temple that Knight Dougan possessed great Force power. But unbridled power was only a hindrance — Bulq was tempered by thousands of sparring sessions, while Dougan... Unfortunately, he was unlikely to be able to stand against the fallen Jedi.
Right before her eyes, a completely different picture was unfolding.
Dougan was in an extremely disadvantageous position — he was lower than Bulq, so the latter's blows carried greater kinetic force. However, the armor-clad Jedi showed no signs of giving ground.
Parrying the first combination, executed in the classic fifth form, the Jedi easily evaded the slashing strikes, stepped back, forcing Bulq to lose his advantage.
The enemy snorted arrogantly when the Jedi deflected his attack and retreated to regroup. He had started the fight fiercely, expecting to end their skirmish quickly. Now he had to reconsider his strategy.
"You're not as bad as the other Jedi," he said, clearly impressed and not even trying to hide it. With a slight movement of his head, the Weequay gestured toward the defeated Soresu master. "Count Dooku would appreciate your talents."
"Well, I doubt that," the Jedi chuckled. "On Teth, I deprived him of two of his underlings — Tann and Ventress are unlikely to help the Separatist cause anymore."
"What?" Bulq was surprised. "You..."
"First, I exhausted them in a duel," the Jedi said. "Then I blew out a wall in the monastery at a kilometer's height... Should I go on?"
With a growl more animalistic than belonging to a sentient being, Bulq lunged forward again, and the air filled with the hissing and crackling of lightsabers that had clashed several times in the span of two heartbeats.
Dougan could have easily lost his life if he had tried to react to every single movement of the battle-hardened fallen Jedi.
Luminara, holding her breath, watched as the armored Jedi surrounded himself with a dense cocoon of the Force. He moved in a kind of trance, called upon the Force, allowing it to flow through him and guide his hand. His weapon became an extension of the Force, and he answered the Weequay's persistent attack with an impenetrable defense.
The Mirialan watched with delight as the yellow blade parried the crimson one's strikes. About five minutes had passed since the start of the fight, and a turning point had arrived in the battle of the two titans.
As if receiving an extra surge of energy, Dougan went on the offensive.
Luminara could count herself among the experienced fencers. Niman — crude, awkward, dull, and despised by most Jedi — seemed to come alive in Dougan's hands. The Jedi showered his opponent with strikes, combinations of thrusts and blocks, at such an unprecedented speed that she had no doubt — somehow, the Jedi had seized the initiative in the battle.
He drove Sora deeper into the desert with fierce, sharp blows, forcing the old fencing instructor to retreat. Performing a backflip, the Weequay broke the distance, avoiding a treacherous thrust that threatened to cut him from waist to shoulder.
"You... who is your teacher, boy?" he shouted. The fallen one's voice was filled with malice and rage. And Unduli understood him — few Jedi could compete with him in lightsaber combat. And each of them was well known in the Temple. Dougan, on the other hand... before the War, no one had even heard of him.
"An overly experienced and knowledgeable being," the Jedi replied. "Haven't you felt the full power of his lessons?"
"Niman cannot possess such power," the instructor stated confidently. "It's the domain of the weak..."
"Then why are you running, Master Bulq?" the Jedi replied mockingly.
Darkness emanated from the Weequay. His blade rose to shoulder level, as if the fallen Jedi intended to punch a hole through his opponent with a single strike.
Luminara gasped. Vaapad.
"You've got to be kidding me!" came from the Jedi.
At that same moment, Sora leaped into the air, spinning his body around its axis. Like a living drill, with the crimson flame of his blade as its tip...
However, despite his exclamation, the Jedi swiftly dodged to the side, allowing Sora to plow several meters through the desert.
"Your Vaapad is pretty crappy, honestly, Master Bulq," the Jedi lamented. "Maybe you'd better demonstrate Juyo?"
The fallen Jedi spat only curses in response.
Without further ado, Rick went on the attack. And Luminara could swear that none of the styles she knew were even remotely similar to what the young Jedi was demonstrating.
His blade was deflected by the former instructor at the last second, but Dougan quickly followed up with another series of powerful thrusts and strikes. The fencing master continued to retreat, steadily pushed back by the fury of the golden-bladed wielder's relentless assault. Luminara noted that Bulq, having failed to achieve a result with his first strike, had switched to defense, pitting the mastery of the incomparable Vaapad against the Jedi's onslaught. But the Jedi seemed not to notice, as if unaware of the deadly danger of the seventh form of lightsaber combat, driving the enemy away from the captive, pushing Sora toward the speeder bike parked half a dozen steps up the dune slope.
Sora fought desperately. It was clear his tactics weren't working — the Jedi had spent the first part of the fight studying his opponent, intending to crush him with his hidden advantage at the end. And even Vaapad proved unable to breach the knight's defense. Whatever style Dougan used (incidentally, many of the combinations and techniques the Jedi used seemed unfamiliar to Unduli, so she doubted the knight was using the Sixth Form of fencing), he surpassed anything Sora Bulq could oppose him with. And it seemed incredible. A Jedi who had spent his entire life behind the Temple doors, cut off from masters and holocrons, was fighting on equal footing with the legendary lightsaber combat instructor.
Every time the latter tried to change tactics or switch to another form, Dougan anticipated it, reacted, and seized the advantage.
Luminara watched with mute horror as the Force around the Jedi distorted, filling with dark clots. Clad in black armor, he himself began to radiate the Dark Side. And even the shouts of the Jedi Master were ignored by him. The Jedi had easily tainted his Light. And by the simplicity with which he gave in to his emotions (and Unduli clearly saw anger turning into rage in him), she could conclude that this was far from the first time he had done so.
But Vaapad, or as he called it — Juyo (a memory flickered in Unduli's mind, something Mace had said about Juyo, and it was somehow connected to Vaapad), while a formidable weapon, in Dougan's execution lacked that deadly elegance visible in Bulq's movements. However, even such crude, unbalanced strikes forced Dooku's minion to retreat.
The denouement was inevitable. Sora understood this, and the Jedi understood it too. Even to Luminara, it was perfectly clear that in the continued confrontation, Dougan would exhaust his opponent and finish him off. Just as he had boastfully claimed when telling about the death of the two acolytes. And, for some reason, Unduli was inclined to believe that the man could indeed have killed both of Dooku's troublesome underlings.
"I sense the Darkness in you, Jedi," Sora exhaled in a satisfied tone. He touched a button on his wrist, and his speeder bike was instantly beside the Jedi. "Your pathetic imitation of Vaapad has only pushed you into the abyss of the Dark Side. Didn't Mace Windu warn you?"
"Oh, really?" Rick grinned. "Did you notice that before or after I sent you to eat sand? I'll deal with the Dark Side."
Sora laughed triumphantly.
"You don't know it yet, but the Dark Side is inside you, Jedi. I felt your emotions in every strike, in every combination. Boy, you don't know it yet, but you're already almost a Sith."
Luminara, unable to believe her ears, cast a glance at the Jedi through the Force.
Sora had been right.
The Jedi was not light.
Luminara had heard of "gray" Jedi. Shortly before the war, a small group had split from the Order. They considered themselves capable of controlling Sith teachings, the emotions that the Sith used in battle. The Jedi had hunted the renegades across the galaxy, trying to prevent new Sith wars.
The Jedi standing before her radiated a dim, dirty white light in which blobs of dark emotions danced... and there were so many of them...
Was it possible that Dougan was a follower of their teachings? But then why hadn't he been exposed yet?
"Tell me something new, servant," the Jedi said wearily. "My Darkness is mine alone. I am the master of my Darkness. And your hopes that I will give in to it" Luminara cried out as she saw the Jedi effortlessly dissolve his emotions in the Light. His aura turned gray, revolting. For all his merits, Dougan was a heretic. And Luminara's entire being cried out to resolve the dilemma between Light and Darkness once and for all. " are a waste of time. Go on, run to your master, complain that yesterday's padawan of a researcher Jedi gave you a beating."
Cursing at the Jedi, Balk swept his eyes across the battlefield. If the enemy had been alone, he would have tried to attack again. But now the Jedi casually moved his fingers, and the shock bracelets that had been breaking the Mirialan's concentration throughout the battle, preventing her from focusing and using the Force, snapped open and fell onto the sand. Sora felt the Jedi begin to gather the Force within himself... The battle was lost. But even from this, profit could be extracted for the Confederacy's cause.
Without a word, Balk pressed the accelerator and vanished from sight.
A heavy sigh came from beneath Dougan's mask. The Jedi collapsed onto his knees in the sand like a felled tree.
"How tired I am," he said.
* * *
The Jedi sat back on his heels, hanging his blade on his belt. Luminara heard hoarse breaths coming from beneath his mask. She saw the numerous melted scars from Balk's lightsaber playing across his armor in the moonlight. She saw him pressing his hand to his left side — apparently Sora had gotten him after all. Only the heat of battle had kept the Jedi from breaking.
And now that the danger had passed, he let the fatigue take over. Dougan sat as if meditating. Luminara felt the Light in him, and she felt the Darkness too. And with each minute, the latter grew stronger. She couldn't delay...
The Jedi Master walked up to him and knelt down. She removed the lightsaber from his belt — the Jedi only turned his head, following the path of his weapon to Luminara's belt. He made no move to stop her actions or hinder her.
"I'm sorry you saw that, Master Unduli," he admitted. "Is there any point in assuring you that I am not..."
"You are a heretic," the woman accused, jabbing a finger at him. "You use the Dark Side, your emotions..."
"I control myself and my emotions," the man said firmly. The Force resonated in his voice, but Luminara paid it no mind. "I follow the path of the Je'daii, and my path..."
"The Jedi are adherents of the Light Side!" Luminara shouted. "We do not use the Dark Side..."
"You fear it," the Jedi said tiredly. "Superstitiously, with wild terror, you fear it. You turn your fears into mantras that you preach for the rest of your lives. That fear makes you vulnerable. That fear breaks Jedi, turning the greatest Jedi into the greatest Sith for millennia! The Order will eventually breed its own destruction!"
"That's a lie!" Unduli cried, activating her lightsaber. "No Jedi would dare raise a hand against their brothers!"
"Are you fucking kidding me?" The Jedi jerked to his feet. Irritation and anger radiated from him. "The Dark Side has consumed him!" Luminara realized. Now, while he was weakened by the struggle, she must... "Revan, Malak, Kreia, Freedon Nadd, Exar Kun, Darth Sion, Darth Nihilus, Darth Ruin, Skere Kaan, Gitani... I could list for a day what each of them did after falling to the darkness! How much pain and war this ancient enmity between Sith and Jedi has brought! You gifted ones don't see how trillions of sentients die in your games of the Force. You — both Jedi and Sith — are blind in your opposition! It's time to put an end to this! The gifted should serve the galaxy, not plunge it into new wars..."
"You've gone mad," Luminara concluded. She felt the Darkness swirling around her. But she was not afraid of it. She was a Jedi. And the Force was with her today. "I will put an end to your madness..."
"Madness?" A cold, emotionless voice rang out behind her. Luminara nearly jumped, so unexpected was the phrase. As if a thousand voices had spoken it.
Slowly turning, the Jedi Master saw before her a dark blue, shimmering figure of a Force ghost. A man in white armor, hands clasped behind his back, pleasant features... and amber-colored eyes.
"A Sith!" the Jedi said with disgust.
"Those labels again," the ghost chuckled. "Your narrow-mindedness infuriated me even in life... both the first and the second. But that's all in the past. You called me, apprentice; I have come." He said the last part, addressing Dougan, who stood behind her.
Luminara cursed, realizing she had left a dangerous enemy at her back. One who, moreover, had vanished in the Force.
With little hope of success, the woman began to turn, intending to deliver a glancing blow to the fallen Jedi. But he was quicker.
The Force barrier he wrapped around himself pushed his own blade away. He snatched his weapon from her hands, simultaneously tripping her.
The Jedi fell onto her back, clinging to the fragments of her scattered consciousness with the Force.
"Do you intend to subjugate her?" the ghost inquired. His voice was pleased.
"She is a prominent member of the Order, Master," Dougan said. "I am confident she will serve our cause."
"This has long been your own cause, my apprentice," the ghost corrected. "I only help."
"Then help, Vitiate." Memories from galactic history stirred in the recesses of Unduli's mind. Memories of the Sith Emperor, so ruthless he could hardly be called a living being. "I want to show her the truth..."
"The truth? Wouldn't it be simpler to break her will and make her obedient, as I did with your other Hands?" The ghost smirked.
The man hesitated for a moment. Then he said firmly, "She will serve my cause regardless."
The Emperor burst out laughing. And his laughter sounded like the screams of billions of innocently slain.
"Woooonderful, my apprentice. Go on, open this Jedi's eyes. But when she betrays you, don't say I didn't warn you..."
Luminara managed to regain control of her consciousness, but her body failed her. Unable to move a hand or a foot, she discovered with horror that her connection to the Force was gone. In terror, she noticed Dougan crouching beside her. On her other side stood the Sith ghost, around whom blue-violet lightning was forming.
Dougan slowly removed his face mask, staring at the Jedi with a face that bore little resemblance to what she had seen before. And his eyes were black, as if the Abyss itself was looking at her through the man.
He took off his glove and placed his palm on her forehead. Smiling, he said, "This will be over quickly, Master Unduli."
Then a wild pain pierced her, as if her brain had been torn to pieces.
* * *
The Force within Dougan was too great.
The mental defenses she had built for years, honed for decades, he destroyed in an instant.
His consciousness penetrated her mind, bringing with it hundreds and thousands of images. Chaotic and structured, clear and hazy.
But they all coalesced into pictures, flashing one after another...
The Clone Wars and the deaths of thousands of Jedi...
Skywalker's execution of Count Dooku...
Obi-Wan's destruction of the cyborg Grievous...
The deaths of Plo Koon, Aayla Secura, Ki-Adi-Mundi...
Unduli screamed, seeing the Republic's fearless soldiers executing their commanders... Hundreds and thousands of Jedi died in an instant... She saw her own body fall in the forests of Kashyyyk, pierced by dozens of blue blaster bolts...
Clones marching into the depths of the Temple, gunning down the few Jedi and Padawans, instructors and mentors...
Her heart broke the moment she saw Master Vrat Jurokk's head fall from his shoulders... How Shaak Ti fell, pierced through the back by a lightsaber...
The massacre of the younglings in the Council chambers... A dark figure in Jedi robes, the same one who killed Jurokk, bathing in the suffering of the young ones, cutting them down one by one... Unduli sobbed, feeling the terror in the small hearts, sensing how their murderer only grew stronger in his grim resolve...
The duel between the Jedi hunter and Keta Serro, the death of Drallig...
Luminara could no longer cry. She saw every death, every one of her friends. She saw the galaxy crumbling. And she understood that all of this was merely part of an ancient, well-rehearsed plan. No tears remained. Only emptiness in her shattered heart and tormented soul...
The murder of Kit Fisto. Agen Kolar. Saesee Tiin. The duel of the Sith, whose figure was also hidden, with Mace Windu... Luminara almost rejoiced, seeing how the Master cornered the Sith, how the Chosen One came to his aid... She exulted, seeing the Jedi raise his sword...
"Master Skywalker, there are too many of them, what should we do?" Against her will, the image of a sweet youngling arose, looking up at the figure of the Jedi... A figure in black robes...
Luminara screamed as her brain grasped the horror of what was happening. Again and again she saw the scenes of her friends' deaths in the Temple, the extermination of the younglings and Jedi who fell, pierced by Skywalker's blade...
Her scream ended in a rasp. Her vocal cords could no longer produce sound, and her eyes were dry. The Mirialan's body was wracked with sobbing spasms, but no tears came.
She saw Windu fly out the window. And she saw the young Skywalker swear allegiance to the Sith.
She saw the confrontation between the hidden Sith and Master Yoda, but did not believe in his victory. A grim confirmation of her words came in the Grand Master's shameful flight from the Sith.
Against this backdrop, Obi-Wan's victory on Mustafar seemed pale. There he was, the enemy who had betrayed them all, exterminated all his loved ones, lying before him, burning in the lava. His arms and legs were agonizing, and his nerve endings burned with pain.
Luminara, with grim determination, tried to push that stump of a man into the lava with the Force. But she failed. And Obi-Wan, despite her pleas and calls, simply walked away in silence...
Weak. Obi-Wan was unable to kill his friend, even despite everything he had done. Millennia of the Order's history were in Kenobi's hands, but he failed. He hesitated, afraid of falling to the Dark Side. He pitied the one who had been his friend, not understanding that before him was only a blind animal.
Deep in her soul, Unduli felt rage kindle. She tried to break free, to scream, striving to finish what had been started herself. But she couldn't. She was as weak as Kenobi. A Jedi is incapable of killing in a fit of rage, even the one who destroyed all his loved ones and friends. A Jedi is incapable of avenging even the deepest wounds. A Jedi is incapable of preventing the inevitable.
The Jedi is weak within his own framework. And all a Jedi can do is be a attack dog of the Senate, which is either corrupt or overly optimistic. Everyone in the Senate seeks only their own gain. And they all couldn't care less about the galaxy.
And the Jedi, who swore to be the guardians of peace... They betrayed their oaths. They were too shortsighted. Too stupid. Weak.
The Light brought only annihilation.
Luminara watched with grim determination as the remains of Anakin Skywalker were encased in battle armor. How IT received its sword with a red blade... How he and the other bastards from the Temple, the traitors, hunted their former comrades...
The stream of visions stopped.
Luminara lay in absolute darkness, at peace. Trained in the ways of the Force, she understood that visions of the future had just flashed before her. So vivid and clear that even Yoda himself could not dispute them. Logical and objective.
The Jedi were finished. The Sith would conquer the galaxy, exterminating the servants of the Light.
"This won't happen if you join me," the image of Dougan — armored, his face hidden by a mask — appeared beside her.
A map of the galaxy appeared before them, the same one that displays the operational situation in the Temple. And the galaxy on it blazed with the fire of war.
"The Sith will divide the Jedi and exterminate them, that's a fact," he stated. "But we have the power to save those we can. Those who are ready to return to the path of the Je'daii, to reclaim the Unified Force and put an end to the strife in the galaxy."
"Under your leadership, of course," the Jedi woman noted.
"Exactly so," the Jedi confirmed. "The galaxy needs a strong hand. A strong ruler and an Order of trained gifted ones. Thousands of wars and battles lie ahead. One day, the galaxy will face an invasion from outside. And democracy is not the system for bringing peace and prosperity to the galaxy."
"This is Sith despotism," Luminara remarked indifferently. "The Jedi never sought to rule..."
"And how many Jedi chancellors have ruled the Republic?" the Jedi inquired.
Unduli was silent. Too many to claim non-interference.
"We will build a strong new state," the Jedi continued. "We will return to the path of the Je'daii and restore the natural order of things in the galaxy."
"And if not?"
"Are you ready to leave everything as it is now?"
"No."
"In my opinion, it's better to die trying than to sit and wait for extermination," the Jedi declared.
Luminara looked at the galaxy map once more. Looking closely, she noticed several planets and regions highlighted in black and silver. Colors that had never marked the positions of any of the warring parties in this conflict.
"You've already started, haven't you?"
"My plan is in full swing, Luminara," the man admitted. "Just as a chancellor needs advisors, I need you and those who are ready to accept a new vision. Those who are ready to form the backbone of a new Order. Those who are ready to fight for a correct future for the galaxy."
The Mirialan looked at the galaxy with indifference, then at the black armored figure.
Her world was destroyed. Her future, her life, would end in the slums of Kashyyyk.
And Dougan... Was he truly capable of changing the fate of trillions? Luminara paused, listening to herself. The Force, which she was surprised to find around her, was silent. As if that nightmare had never happened.
Her eyes opened, staring at the star-filled sky. She was lying on the coarse sand of Tatooine.
Getting up, she saw Dougan standing with his back to her, gazing at the sand dunes. He paid no attention to her. And the ghost was nowhere to be seen.
The Mirialan rose silently to her feet. A lightsaber hilt lay on the sand. Pulling it to her with the Force, the girl took a step towards the figure.
The choice was made. And there was no turning back.
Dougan turned, drawn by the sound of an activating lightsaber. Gazing at the emerald blade that Master Unduli was admiring, he remained silent, watching her reaction.
Finally, having enjoyed the sight, Unduli deactivated the blade.
Kneeling on one knee before the figure clad in ancient armor, she held out the hilt of the lightsaber left for her, lowering her head.
"I swear allegiance to your teachings, Master..."