"An ominous place," Oli said with a shiver. "All these corridors, machines… Master, are you sure we're going the right way?"
"Doubting my abilities, young Padawan?" I chuckled. Catching the girl's gaze, with a shadow of concern flickering across her face, I tried to support her by sending an encouraging pulse through the Force. Though… I could use some support myself. I'm barely holding on.
As soon as I stepped into the depths of the complex, the ailment I thought was under control returned. As if the meditation and temporary clarity of mind meant nothing. The same pain in my temples, dizziness, blurred vision. So far it was only mildly inconvenient. But the deeper we went, the worse I felt.
I had no intention of showing it, but from the glances Kira cast at me as she walked beside me, I knew the Hand had already figured it out. And, as befits a good girl, she kept it secret. What a smart one.
Good thing that as soon as I realized what was happening, I managed to shield myself in the Force from Oli. She's a persistent little minx, but there's no need to burden her with this too. As long as I can control myself, I'll hold on. It can't all end like this.
"A terrifying place," the apprentice repeated. "My blood runs cold from the feel of the Dark Side. Like staring into the Void…"
She couldn't be more right. It wasn't just that the Dark Side permeated the air. There was literally a chill — my whole body was covered in goosebumps. And the temperature seemed to have dropped ten degrees. Puffs of steam came from my mouth constantly. At such moments, you start wondering — why does using the Dark Side feel hot instead of the opposite?
"This complex was built by the Rakata," said Kira, walking on the Padawan's right. The three of us walked in the second line. In the first, about a hundred meters ahead, moved the Esh-kha scouts. Behind — Blood Claw and a couple of Twi'leks. And at a respectful distance, covering the rear — another unit of Esh-kha. The locals, armed with some ancient shooty-sticks, were frankly scared — I could feel it in the Force. Claw had said they'd never approached the complex since they'd freed their entire population from stasis. It was too frightening here. I admit, even my blood ran cold just looking at the ancient bas-reliefs adorning the corridor walls. They depicted Rakata gloriously destroying Esh-kha. And numerous texts in a language I didn't recognize. Possibly belonging to the natives of Lehon.
"And who are they?" Oli asked.
"An ancient race that nearly conquered the galaxy tens of thousands of years ago," I explained, suppressing another bout of dizziness.
Why not enlighten the little girl while we moved toward the goal? And it would occupy my mind with something else. Something unrelated to thoughts of how awful I felt.
"They appeared on the planet Lehon, then, like a plague, took over every world they could reach. They had an affinity for the Dark Side of the Force, so they were ruthless warriors and outright slavers. They searched the galaxy for worlds marked by the Force, then invaded them, crushing all resistance and capturing Force-sensitive beings."
"And what for?"
"To use them in their machines," Kira picked up the story, seeing me wince from another bout of pain. "The Rakata knew how to connect Force-sensitives to their machines, turning them into powerful energy sources. It was their invasion of Tython, in search of new Force-sensitive beings, that caused the Je'daii, after their victory over the Rakata, to split into followers of Light and Dark."
"And what happened to them?" Oli asked with obvious interest.
"They finally got on the galaxy's nerves with their behavior, and a plague struck their race," I explained the final period of the Builders' dominance quite simply. "They degenerated, losing their connection to the Force. And since most of their technology was designed for the Force-sensitive, they had to retreat to their homeworld, destroying all possible artifacts behind them that would allow other, previously enslaved races to settle scores. And eventually, after several millennia of floundering, the Rakata died out completely."
"But their legacy remained, didn't it?" the girl asked thoughtfully.
"You're a real obvious Padawan," I chuckled. "But you're absolutely right. The New Forge, which builds the Empire's fleet and supplies our troops with ammunition and weapons — that's one of their greatest achievements. Like this complex…"
"And what's it for?"
"To hold them," Kira, not particularly ceremoniously, pointed behind herself, jabbing a finger at Blood Claw.
"Hmm," the Padawan measured the chieftain with an appraising look and nodded in agreement. "That made sense. They even look creepy…"
"Blood Claw is pleased with the compliment," the Esh-kha leader bared his teeth, making the girl literally shudder with disgust. Well, no wonder. The Esh-kha was a freak to begin with, and when he smiled…
Listening to my own sensations, I felt the Dark Side energy literally flooding this place. I had felt something similar in orbit of Dromund Kaas, but much weaker. Here… it was like falling into a source of Darkness.
But what awaited at the end of this journey… if only I knew in advance.
At such moments, I could regret never getting around to playing through the Sith Inquisitor storyline in that well-known game. But… what bitter memories of the past? I had to survive here in reality.
The headaches grew stronger with every level descending underground. As if my own Force resonated with the Darkness emanating from the heart of the complex. Which was quite strange. But it didn't matter. The main thing was to fix everything.
"Scouts are at the target," Bloodclaw said gutturally, pointing toward the vanguard of the esh-ha, who had halted before a massive rectangular entrance to yet another hall. From which emanated not merely the Dark Side, but something... sepulchral.
"Master..." Oli automatically grabbed my elbow. Kira, watching the scene, just snorted.
"Easy," a wave of pain hit me, nearly buckling my knees. Carsen didn't miss my stumble. The girl silently moved closer, letting me lean on her. "It'll all be over soon..."
"We'll stay here," Claw warned. I just nodded silently — what use were they?
Leaning on Kira and Oli, who had put an arm around me from the other side, I shuffled inside like some ancient grandfather. Both Twi'leks accompanied our invalid team, keeping a sharp eye on our surroundings.
Every single step was harder for me than climbing a mountain. The headache, dulled by Voss meditation, now intensified, as if trying to burst out of my skull. The Force, which had been a gently storming ocean, had turned into the proverbial ninth wave, washing away the last remnants of my self-control. Apparently, it was a mistake to answer Atroxa's call...
The heart of the complex was a giant room, filled with massive mechanisms that radiated deep antiquity at a single glance. Numerous technical devices lined a small rectangular platform, at the center of which stood an archaic holoterminal, and behind it...
"What is that?" Oli whispered. "Looks like a torture chamber."
We didn't get a chance to answer. The surrounding machines came to life, spewing fountains of sparks. The hum of mechanisms filled the space. At the same time, a massive durasteel bulkhead slammed down behind us, cutting us off from the esh-ha squads.
"A trap," one of the Twi'leks breathed.
"I don't think so," Kira countered. "Look!"
The terminal we'd noticed began to glow, projecting the image of a biped above itself...
"A Rakata," I breathed, grimacing from another wave of pain.
What the hell!? Valkorion promised I still had time. Or is this complex affecting me? I feel terrible...
"Ah, children," the hologram greeted us in slightly off Basic, smiling charmingly. "Glad you're back."
"What?" Oli was taken aback. "What children? Who's back?"
The girl, about to ask more questions, met Kira's cold gaze, which clearly promised trouble if she didn't shut up. Oli thought for a second, then composedly looked the other way.
"I see you have problems," the hologram said in a solicitous tone, still using that same caring female voice. "What happened?"
"The Force... is tearing me apart," I explained, wincing at the tingling sensations wracking my body. "I need... help."
"I see traces of cellular modifications I made a very long time ago," the hologram said. Simultaneously with her words, I felt a gentle warmth fill my body. "A multitude of foreign genes, grafted through selection. A heterogeneous mass. An uncoordinated genetic sequence. Who disfigured you like this, child?"
There was a note of compassion in the hologram's voice. As if the machine actually cared about what had happened to me. Oh, these strange ancient computers...
"Yeah... there's this one bastard," the wave of Force that surged through me was so strong it tore me from the girls' arms. Crashing to my knees, I barely managed to throw my hands out in front of me in time to save my face from meeting the floor covering.
Both Twi'leks, the Hand, and the apprentice rushed to me, lifting me so my face was level with our virtual interlocutor.
"Not good," the hologram frowned. "Now I see. A failed experiment, genetic sequence incompatibility. Too much Force to keep the construct within normal parameters. Multiple damages. Very poor assembly."
"Can he be helped?" Oli asked impatiently. "He's dying!"
It was nice that my apprentice cared about me. We hadn't spent that much time together, yet now she was ready to tear her shirt open for me.
"My children should not die because of others' mistakes," the machine remarked, making some passes with her hands. Simultaneously, new sounds from activated mechanisms reached my ears. "He needs to get into the chamber," the hologram's phantom hand pointed to the massive structure behind her. "I will fix everything."
Caring hands grabbed me, dragging me forward like a sack of potatoes. My consciousness was clouding, my vision blurring again. The symptoms of my own demise had finally overwhelmed me. The feeling was very similar to what I'd experienced during the fight with Balk. Only a hundred times stronger.
The pain was so intense I couldn't speak or move. It felt like my nervous system had been pushed to its limit and now rebelled, refusing to work.
The girls shoved me into a huge chamber with a single exit. I practically fell in there, like a sack of manure. Unable to move, losing consciousness from the pain, I lay on the icy floor, thanking providence that my body was so worn out, my senses so battered, that they no longer reacted to the background pain of my entire organism. Only a tiny spot — the half of my cheek I was lying on — provided any variety, offering a searing coolness.
Above my head, barely penetrating my rapidly fading consciousness, a deafening crack rang out, reminding me that my hearing was still with me, despite everything. For some reason.
And then I felt like I was torn to pieces.
* * *
Racha ran across the roof, crouched low to avoid a stray shot. The entire structure of the five-story building looked flimsy, threatening to collapse at any moment. That was precisely why the droids had withdrawn from this quarter — while the rank-and-file soldiers were thoroughly stupid, their commander couldn't be denied a certain intelligence and an unwillingness to lose what was already a rapidly shrinking force.
Careful bastard.
The Twi'lek caught herself thinking that the war was clearly not doing her delicate mental constitution any good. An army was hardly a finishing school for noble maidens. Even the ever-polite clones could be heard swearing in a combat situation. Though, they'd awkwardly apologize if they spotted a general nearby. But you couldn't erase the curses you'd heard from memory, could you?
General...
For the first time, she had truly experienced the weight of that title. Even during that ill-fated recon raid, the combat operation had felt somehow... detached. Now, she was immersed in the reality of war up to her neck.
The Jedi felt that the war... was leaving its mark on her. Even back in the Ruusan system, deaths resonated in the Force, beating against her like rain on a roof. And now, on a planet where hundreds of beings could die in a single instant...
Hutt!
The girl, distracted by her thoughts, nearly fell off the roof as the soles of her boots slipped on the permacrete.
However, she quickly pulled herself together, pushing off the treacherous surface, reinforcing her jump with the Force.
Landing on the neighboring building, she accelerated to the limit and, in an instant, cut down a small squad of droids that happened to be nearby. Looked like a patrol. How lucky that none of them realized what was happening. It would have been a shame to reveal herself one step away from her mission's objective.
The battle for the capital had been raging for several days without pause. The clones of Aayla's 327th Corps were bogged down on the approach to the city limits — the tin cans had dug in so deep that they couldn't be dislodged without catastrophic losses.
The 204th Legion was moving to meet them, a steamroller sweeping any enemy from its path. They seemed unstoppable. And yet, the enemy had managed. After the two clone units — "Dougan's Fist" and the 212th — had linked up to form a unified front, Senior Clone Commander Nix, who led the legion, very tactfully asked "various generals" to stay out from underfoot, ordering the battered remnants of the corps to the rear for rest and rear-guard duty.
The 212th Corps troopers, who had been acting under her command by order of Grand Moff Dougan, though displeased with the decision, didn't dare contest it. Especially after General Secura had effectively transferred command of the combined clone force to him, except for her own corps. And now, united, the clones were methodically advancing, trying to drive the droids out of the residential quarters they'd occupied. After the first string of successful battles, they'd had to retreat and dig in themselves. Because the enemy, without much ceremony, was openly using captured capital residents as living shields. Particularly to protect their artillery, which gave the clones no peace, relentlessly turning Republic-occupied buildings into rubble. And the clones had to fall back from their positions to avoid being left in the open when another building was reduced to ruins.
This couldn't go on much longer.
They needed to decisively end the enemy's operations. Decapitate their command by killing whoever was leading the CIS army. Whether it was an organic or a tactical droid, it didn't matter. Eliminate him, and the Jedi could throw the Separatist chain of command into chaos. And droids who didn't know whose orders to follow were no longer the most effective fighting force.
Everything would change soon. After the enemy had wiped out two recon teams from the 212th Corps that had been sent behind the lines, Racha just couldn't take it anymore. She decided to carry out this sabotage herself. Fortunately, history showed that a swift Jedi strike was, in most cases, a successful raid that guaranteed victory. Nine times out of ten.
Lodbrok, the recon team leader she'd met on that nearly suicidal mission on Ruusan, had insisted, despite everything, on going with her. "You need cover, General. Don't argue. Me and my boys are the best in the corps. Refuse, and you won't go anywhere at all."
She had to agree — the clones in his platoon were extremely determined. And now they were moving behind her, at some distance, ready to assist if needed. They were supposed to reach the target by parallel routes, after which they just had to strike with combined force. A smaller group has a better chance, precisely because of its mobility. But she had no intention of explaining this to Nix — he was extremely prejudiced against all Jedi except maybe his own, who for some reason wasn't in a hurry to join the battle. And the "Defend" order, with which this clone had effectively tied his soldiers' hands, she frankly disliked.
Stopping at the edge of the last building in a dilapidated district, the Twi'lek hid in the shadow of a small utility structure. She needed to assess the situation.
There. That round domed building, around which OOM-series droids were constantly scurrying — the Separatist equivalent of junior commanders. Obviously, it was they, despite looking outwardly like B-1s, who were responsible for repelling Republic soldier attacks.
The comm channels were jammed, so she put her comlink into automatic mode, preparing the device to continuously transmit a pre-recorded message. Maybe the device would still cut through the interference, and the clones would learn she had completed her part of the mission. Sinilian was the only one who knew the full plan and was supposed to execute the second phase. Striking immediately after this was required to capitalize on the command chaos among the droids. Such an opportunity might not present itself again.
She understood how absurd it was — going on such an important mission alone, without stable communication with her troops. And Sinilian and Lodbrok had insisted she take a flare gun. A backup communication method. Which she had deemed unnecessary.
Who could have known that here, on enemy territory, all transmissions would be jammed?!
She should have listened to the advice of more experienced soldiers. But Jedi pride wouldn't let her play it safe. The result was that the entire point of the mission could go right up a nexu's ass.
Unless, along with the enemy commander, she also destroyed the enemy comm center. That was where the equipment for jamming Republic frequencies must be.
A crimson light flashed from the right. Sitra barely dodged a blaster bolt fired by a BX-series droid. Saboteurs, a headache for everyone from clones to Jedi, known for their cunning and treachery. Realizing the element of surprise was hopelessly compromised, the girl activated her own blade, swiftly closing with the enemy.
After deflecting a couple more shots, she ducked, dodging an unexpected vibroblade lunge that nearly pierced her stomach. The girl twisted, blocking a second thrust, then shifted sideways, slicing off the droid's upper torso and hurling the remains away with the Force.
What bad luck! How could she have missed him and blown it like this?
Almost immediately, the roof got "hot." Dozens of battle droids began emerging from the utility hatch. Sure, they were B-1s, but there were a lot of them. Too many for her to handle.
Crouching, the Twi'lek accelerated as was her habit, deflecting shots back at the nearest droid. It was about to shoot her legs, but in the time since, Racha had learned to neutralize the enemy soldiers' "initiative," deflecting their shots. Her signature Niman, in which she was an unmatched master — a fact noted by many fencing instructors, except, of course, the Troll, whom it was simply impossible to please — was increasingly failing her in this war. The "diplomatic form" wasn't particularly suited to fighting multiple opponents. Or deflecting blaster shots. Though, at the same time, she'd heard that Master Dougan, also an adherent of this form, had managed to dispatch several of Dooku's dark acolytes. Maybe Niman was underestimated?
A blaster bolt seared her thigh. With a cry, the girl stumbled, failing to cut down another droid. The enemy's merciless machines closed in, ready to finish her at any moment...
And at that same moment, most of them fell, hit by dozens of blue blaster bolts. Seizing the respite, the girl instantly rolled aside, avoiding being pierced by dozens of crimson shots.
"Get out, we'll cover you, General!" Lodbrok's shout reached her. The scout, along with half a dozen clones hovering in the air on jetpacks, was hosing down the droids from blaster carbines, covering her retreat.
The girl looked around and realized her sortie had failed. Droids were arriving — not only on this roof but on the nearby buildings. It was bitter to think that such an opportunity was lost. It seemed the enemy commander was smarter than she'd thought. He'd covered himself by creating the illusion of pulling his forward line closer to his HQ.
One droid managed to shoot a clone. The clone dropped his weapon and landed badly on the roof. A distinct crunch of a broken bone reached the girl's ears. Well, no wonder — falling from a height of a good ten meters.
Two commando droids prepared to open fire on her, but Racha, returning their deadly shots, had already run over to the soldier. She grabbed him under the armpit with her left hand and, trying not to put weight on her wounded leg, dragged him behind an air duct housing, which almost immediately became a target for the enemy. The metal shuddered, absorbing the shots from the lead droids.
Seeing the rescue operation dragging on, the remaining clones descended, taking cover behind impromptu barriers. Thermal detonators were deployed, and the night silence was shattered by booming explosions.
As soon as the immediate danger passed, she reached into one of the pockets on her thigh suit, where a medical kit was stored.
"Get out, ma'am," the clone put his hand on the medkit, as if to indicate he wasn't worth the effort. "Both legs are broken, I'll only slow you down."
His voice was audible through his armor. As were the slight wheezes. It seemed the landing hadn't been without other injuries. The Twi'lek was momentarily stunned — despite her inexperience in command, she hadn't even considered consciously leaving someone to the mercy of the enemy. Especially not...
Pulling the helmet off the clone, she looked into Lodbrok's eyes, already knowing who it was.
"You're the last person I expected to see."
"I'm just doing my duty, General," blood was visible on his lips. Reaching into the Force, the Twi'lek realized the clone had multiple internal injuries and bleeding. His chances of survival were fading before her eyes. Sprays and bacta patches wouldn't help here.
"I can't not help you."
"I'm very grateful for that, General," the clone coughed, spitting up blood. "But the longer we delay, the... kha-kha... the less chance we have of getting out of here."
"It should have worked!" she said, a note of panic in her voice.
"No, ma'am," the clone shook his head. "The idea was idiotic from the start. Forgive me for not being able to talk you out of it..."
Watching the recon team leader's eyes roll back, Racha felt tears welling up. Not that she had any feelings for the clone — that was forbidden for a Jedi. But to lose a comrade with whom she had begun her journey...
"General!" One of the clones appeared beside her. Racha was surprised to see that his armor only vaguely resembled the standard white elements used throughout the Grand Army. But she'd seen it many times at the 204th Legion's camp. "We need to leave! The tin cans are pressing!"
"We're almost surrounded, Corporal," the Twi'lek said, listening to the Force. "We'll all die here."
"Sorry, but I disagree, ma'am," the clone deftly unstrapped his commander's jetpack — Lodbrok had lost consciousness — and thrust it unambiguously into the girl's hands. "Dying today is contraindicated. Lodbrok's sacrifice is enough. The commander ordered you delivered alive — so the Grand Moff can personally tan your hide for this. Hutt, just move!"
Racha watched, stunned, as the 204th Legion trooper gave her a light slap. It brought her back to reality. Seeing that her gaze was gaining coherence, the clone grunted in satisfaction.
"Duck, purple one," he advised. Then, after contacting someone on his comlink, he snatched several grenades from his belt and hurled them toward the enemy. There was a deafening roar. Sitra heard shrapnel whistle past.
"All clear, sir!" Another clone in similar armor appeared beside her. Without ceremony, he hoisted the dazed Jedi onto his shoulder and, with one powerful leap, landed on the ramp of a ship hovering next to the roof. Racha distantly thought she'd never seen such a squat transport, but she wasn't given time to contemplate.
The clone practically threw her into the ship's airlock, not caring that she slammed into the bulkhead. But it brought her to her senses. Glancing around, the girl saw the rest of Lodbrok's group climbing aboard after her. He himself was being carried in by other soldiers in black-and-silver armor, while their comrades laid down covering fire from carbines. The clones from her squad, not crowding, almost immediately dispersed down the ship's corridors, though they were no less surprised than she was — she could feel it in the Force.
"That's it, evacuation complete," one of these clones announced, raising the boarding ramp. "Joker, get us out of here!"
"No, you can't!" The girl, feeling a surge of adrenaline, got to her feet and pushed through to the soldier giving orders. "We need to destroy the enemy commander."
"Sit still, you fool!" The clone took off his helmet and gave her an angry look. "We weren't picking flowers here!"
Racha felt the mechanisms hum beneath her feet — the ship was moving. They were jolted noticeably — the enemy clearly wasn't going to let them go that easily.
"Done," another clone in those strange armors declared. "The charge detonated. The CIS command element is destroyed."
"Well, good," the clone with command insignia on his armor grunted. Turning to Racha, he shook his head. "Ma'am, that was the stupidest thing I've seen in my entire life."
"I meant well," she tried to justify herself.
"Tell that to the Senior General," he didn't argue. "Team 'Hurricane' has once again pulled a Jedi's ass out of the fire."
'These guys don't mince words,' Racha thought.
"I'm sure Master Dougan will understand my reasons for acting independently," she declared firmly.
"Yeah, sure, sure," the commando commander snorted. "What have you got to fear? You're a Twi'lek."
Sitra, sensing the mockery emanating from the clone, remained silent.
Too transparent a hint that Dougan was partial to women of her species.
But how could that be — he was a Jedi!
"This is nonsense," Sitra decided, dismissing Alpha-17's words from her mind.
* * *
Consciousness returned just as a blinding white flash passed before my eyes.
At the same time, memory helpfully reminded me that absolutely everything should be hurting. But, strangely enough, I felt much better. As if I'd never had any problems with my mortal body being destroyed by the Force.
A quick reconnaissance showed I'd been thrown into some kind of white haze. 'And here's the Matrix,' I thought with grim foreboding. Just had to wait for the master of this whole circus to appear.
"Glad you're feeling better," a cheerful female voice sounded behind me. The one I'd heard before — and recently. Turning, I saw a tall Rakatan figure behind me, which, naturally, hadn't been there five seconds ago.
"Well, you've changed," I observed, pointing out that before me stood not a figurine of blue light, but a semblance of a real, living being. In the usual — real — colors.
"I decided this way we could communicate more comfortably," the Rakata shrugged. "I am Ashsha, the Mother Machine."
"Um... Rick Dougan, the Immortal Emperor."
"Oh, you don't need to introduce yourself," my interlocutor laughed. "I scanned your mind, so there's no need to bring me up to speed. I know EVERYTHING, Egor."
"Is that so," I said, feeling slightly irritated. "Snooping through other people's thoughts is generally impolite."
"I had to help you, after all," the Mother Machine spread her hands. "Your anamnesis was... very superficial to understand the full nature of the problem. But, if you want, we can stop your reconstruction. Of course, you'll die..."
"Reconstruction?" disbelief crept into my voice. "What exactly are you doing?"
"Changing you on a molecular level," Ashsha smiled. "Your teacher is a true sadist if he thought that using the genes of Lord Kallig, whom I improved over three thousand years ago, could serve as the basis for all other interventions. By the way, a very interesting concept — mixing the most outstanding qualities of several gifted beings in one body. I did something similar once. But, unlike Vitiate — successfully."
"Yeah, that guy likes to experiment," I admitted glumly.
"He is very cunning," Ashsha grew serious. "This instability — it's a genetic limiter on your power. A guarantee that you won't become stronger."
"What a bastard! He didn't even tell me!"
"Why not?" the Rakata smiled. "He told you to absorb one ghost. You did that. Then, at his prompting, you acquired another. Vitiate didn't instruct you to absorb the power of the Kyber crystal or Darth Marr. That was your decision, which led to the destabilization of your genetic structure."
"So, I could have potentially avoided this if I just hadn't rushed the absorptions?"
"Of course. But the analysis shows that with your previous settings, you wouldn't have been able to gain the power of more than three ghosts. Your genetic code simply wasn't designed for it."
"He was making me stronger than most other gifted beings, but weaker than himself," I voiced the idea that already existed in my head.
"Precisely," the Rakata confirmed. "An ancient technique used by my kin. Funny to see it hasn't grown obsolete tens of thousands of years later."
"And you find it amusing," I smiled crookedly. Then, realizing what she'd just said, I asked.
"So you're not a computer? Not an artificial intelligence?"
"I am Ashsha," the Rakata repeated. "The creator of the mechanism known as the Mother Machine. And its eternal prisoner. Its processor, operator, keeper."
"But... who...?"
"My kin," she answered the unspoken question. "Long before the Rakata began to lose their connection to the Force, I experimented with creating species more sensitive to the Force than humans, Selkath, Wookiee, and many others we had conquered. It's nice to know my experiments bore fruit."
"Er... what are you talking about?"
"How strange, I thought you'd understand immediately," she said, perplexed. "Fine, I'll give you a hint. Small, green, talks funny, chews his cane when he gets hungry."
"YO... Yoda?"
"Oh, you don't have to shout like that," Ashsha grimaced. "He's just a descendant of those I and my people experimented on. One of many, by the way. But only his race managed to become the most sensitive. They would have made wonderful energy sources… So obedient, unflappable, trusting…"
"Brr," I shuddered. "Imagining the Grand Master as fuel for the New Forge…"
"And what's wrong with that?" Ashsha asked, surprised. "I've seen your memories. He's not your friend, not a relative, not a lover…"
"God forbid I'd fuck something like that!"
"Indignation? Why? You don't turn your nose up at our other creations."
"For crying out loud! So you created the Twi'leks too?"
"Yes."
"And who else?"
"Many. The Esh-kha, for example."
"Wait, wait, wait! You were at war with them!"
"Correct," the Rakatan nodded. "And barely won it. Which proves that as an invasion army, the Esh-kha were nearly flawless. It's a pity their connection to the Force… isn't the strongest."
"So that's why you're here?" I guessed. "Your mind was locked in this machine as punishment for the Esh-kha getting out of control?"
"Glad to see you're perceptive after all," the Rakatan smiled. "Yes, that's right. I was imprisoned in a Mind Cage — my consciousness, to be precise. A pity they destroyed my body. But it was a safety measure — so no one could free me. There wasn't a single soul willing to give me their body. After all, I'm the shame and disgrace of the Rakatan Infinite Empire. Despicable Ashsha."
"That was a long time ago," I reminded her. "But your grudge is still strong?"
"Absolutely," I'm not great at reading Rakatan expressions (and neither is most of the galaxy), but what was written on her face now… Rage, anger, anticipation? Oh-ho-ho, even Vitiate made me feel less… fear. "That Sith, Lord Kallig, helped me by removing the restriction blocks from this complex, and I subjugated the entire building to myself, freeing my children, the Esh-kha, who were languishing here."
"That's obvious."
"A pity there were too few Rakata guarding the Prison," she lamented. "Not enough for me to sate my thirst for revenge for what the Elders did to me. Imprisoning my mind in a machine, forcing me to fight the plague… And all while watching my creations suffer. Unbearable torment."
"So you didn't help them?" Another guess, nothing more. "Because if you can create new species, strengthening their connection to the Force, you undoubtedly could have cured your kin."
"I could have," the Rakatan shrugged. "But I didn't want to. They never understood that I control the mechanism, not it controlling me. At first, they trusted me. Then they realized they wouldn't get an ally in me. That's when all these guard droids and limiters appeared — an attempt to force me to obey. Unsuccessful, I must say. And when extinction became unstoppable, the Elders left a small group of scientists here, hoping my race's suffering would make me change my mind."
"It didn't."
"As you can see. I am my own master."
"Still, that doesn't explain why you helped me."
"I'm not finished with your reconstruction yet, child," Ashsha reminded me. "We're in a process that will take… some time. Enough for us to come to an agreement."
Seriously… How much more can there be? Altruism doesn't exist in this galaxy. Outside the Jedi Temple, of course.
And I'd still have to negotiate. I recall an episode from Revan's life when he ended up in a Rakatan Mind Cage, one-on-one with a representative of this species. And if he had lost — an inhabitant of the Infinite Empire would have taken over his body.
Looks like I'm in the same situation. The Mother Machine wants something from me. And she's unambiguously hinting that if I refuse — I won't leave here. Or I will leave — but it won't be me.
"What do you want?" I inquired.
"Revenge," just like that. Short and clear. And I'm supposed to figure out the rest, right? Revenge on whom, for what… Good grief. You've been poking around in my head. So you know…
"Figured it out?" she smiled.
"I think so," I said, chewing my lip.
"Smart child," Ashsha praised. "This alliance will benefit us both."
"Honestly, I can't imagine how," I shook my head. "You'll start a bloodbath in the Rakatan Archipelago the moment you get there."
"Who knows," the Mother Machine smiled. "After all, I haven't told you the terms of our agreement."
The Rakatan Archipelago… Just the mention of that star cluster made my inner hamster start drooling.
So, why I dream about getting my hands on it.
I'll start from the beginning. As I told my apprentice, the Rakata gave the entire galaxy a thorough beating. But as soon as things got dicey — losing control of the Force — they tucked tail, quickly covered their tracks, and returned home, where over twenty-some thousand years later Revan visited them (twice), thoroughly mocking those who remained. And a thousand years before today, the Rakata were considered extinct.
But those who claimed that didn't know two things.
First — on Tython, long forgotten by the whole galaxy, lived feral Rakata — the Flesh Eaters — who, under Ashara's careful hands, were now working for the benefit of the Eternal Empire.
But the second was the most significant. Shortly before losing their connection to the Force, most of the Rakata departed for a secret star cluster — a refuge for their civilization, unknown even to most of their own species. Something like the Chiss Redoubt. A habitat hidden from everyone. According to the history of the Star Wars universe, despite this group of Rakata managing to take all the cream of the Infinite Empire with them — all their knowledge, technology, and so on and so forth — they inexplicably degraded intellectually. So they had to essentially rebuild their entire science from scratch, studying artifacts from their turbulent past.
Out of all the Rakata, only two tribes managed to rediscover hyperdrive technology. They even started creating something like Star Forges. But, as it turned out, resources in that cluster were very… scarce. To put it mildly. So an unending war for them raged there. So to speak, "Rakata die for metal."
These worlds were located in the Unknown Regions. The approximate location of the archipelago was determined by studying the remnants of Rakatan civilization on Lehon. But that's hundreds of parsecs. So I had no great hope of discovering the archipelago and getting my greedy hands on the artifacts not bolted down by the ancient Rakata anytime in the near future. I had to make do with just the New Forge, which was already working at its limit.
"Hopefully, we won't be playing 'Guess the Alliance Terms'?" I asked wearily.
"Of course not," Ashsha assured me. "I was in your head. I know what you're looking for. I know what you want. I can guess what results you'll achieve. And I'm offering you help."
"What kind?"
Instead of an answer, a three-dimensional map of the galaxy appeared before my eyes. In the form the Infinite Empire knew it. True, the huge number of inhabited worlds in the areas the Republic considered the Unknown Regions and Wild Space… frankly baffled me.
"You're playing a very interesting, but extremely risky game," the Mother Machine continued. "The Forge you possess is not perfect. Its development was spontaneous, erratic — and wrong. What you have now can be improved many times over. And your fleet will multiply in no time. Using it in its current state, you will never create an army larger than your enemies'."
"There's always a 'but,' right?" I smirked.
"Otherwise, you'd already be bleeding from every pore, decomposing before my processors," Ashsha smirked. "It's within my power to improve the work of your… New Forge. Fix the errors, eliminate the archaisms. Restructure it for maximum productive efficiency. You will be the first in the last twenty-five thousand years to receive help from a pure-blooded Rakatan. And that's worth a lot."
"Sounds… promising. And what will I owe in return?"
The map changed, zooming in on one of the regions in Wild Space.
"This is what you're looking for, Egor," she explained. "The Rakatan Archipelago. The last bastion of my people. The Citadel, the mention of which has been erased from all sources and archives."
Bitch. And she's taunting me with something I can never get. At least — not in the near future.
"Exactly," Ashsha smiled, as if reading my thoughts. Hutt! Of course she read them — I'm completely at her mercy. "I have no doubt that the secrets of teleporters, Star Forges, ships and hyperdrives powered by the Force, Force weapons — all of this is hidden there. I've looked into your mind. And I know you covet all of it."
"Anyone would want it. One day the Empire will descend upon it. And take everything it can get its hands on."
"That's true," the Rakatan blinked her enormous eyes. "I have no doubt that in a few years you will succeed. In twelve, to be precise. Provided that all this time your state hides from its enemies and spends all its resources searching for hyperspace routes in that area of space you call the Unknown Regions. What a pleasant coincidence that I can significantly speed up your search."
"How?"
"My fellows erased all records of the archipelago from computers and Star Charts. But not from my mind," she assured me, touching her temple with the index finger of one of her hands. To confirm these words, a set of navigational coordinates appeared next to each projection of the star systems. Just enough for me to see them, but not to remember. "You came here for help — to stop the genetic degradation of your body. Giving me nothing in return."
"I didn't even know you existed."
"Now you do. Be my ally, and I won't just stop your body's genetic degradation. I'll do more."
"What exactly?" my hamster licked its lips with renewed vigor.
"You will be changed," she smiled. "Using the knowledge of the ancient Rakata, the results of my experiments, I will make you better. Stronger, faster, more perfect. You will have no limits in absorbing Force sources, and everything you desire — will be yours. Potentially, of course. What your Teacher did makes you one of the strongest adepts of your time. I will merely optimize the mess he called 'selection.' I will squeeze the maximum potential out of your body, which you will still have to master. Having reached your limit, with my help, you will become the strongest. No Force-user will be your rival when you learn to use all the inherent potential of your body that I… will restructure."
"Even the Celestials?" I smirked, referring to the former masters of the Rakata. A little-studied race, called the Celestials — they were rare bastards (are there any others in the GFFA?), who ruled the galaxy hundreds of thousands of years before today. Like the Rakata, they enslaved other civilizations, but, and here's the difference, they sought to develop them. Naturally, for their own benefit. And then the Celestials simply vanished. How, what, where, why — unknown. The only mention of them is the so-called Family, consisting of the Father — keeper of the Balance of the Force, the Son — embodiment of the Dark Side, and the Daughter — well, a beauty, it is known, she advocated for the Light Side, the one Skywalker dealt with. The Family, or rather its head, the Father, decided to test the Chosen One's ability to control the Balance of the Force. And the Chosen One even passed that trial. In his own style. In the end, the Son killed the Daughter, and the Father, to kill the Son, killed himself. Such was the result of the Chosen One's Trial. If it were up to me, I'd broadcast this story on the HoloNet, with a warning — DON'T GET INVOLVED WITH SKYWALKER. He can't save anyone, damn it. He just puffs himself up, and in the end, everyone converts to Islam. He wanted to learn from Qui-Gon. He got killed. Tried to save his mother: massacred an entire tribe of Tusken, only to end up burying her. He assured Kenobi he wouldn't be the cause of his death — and drove the old man to merge with the Force of his own free will. Dreamed of saving Padmé from death — massacred the entire Jedi Order, even the younglings, and in the end nearly strangled his beloved, plus the pair of brats inside her. That guy should definitely be avoided like the plague — that's why I find him so unpleasant. Whenever I see him, it makes me sick, I even lose my appetite.
"Don't be so greedy," Ashsha wagged her finger at me. "I can do much, but not everything. By developing your renewed body, you will become tens of times stronger than the potential your Teacher intended for you."
"Tempting, but the moment he realizes it — I'm dead."
"Vitiate is skilled in the Force," Ashsha agreed. "But he's just a ghost. And outside a body, much is unknown. I will rid you of his mental implants, of the ridiculous moral principles of your past life, alien to this world, and I will block your mind from outside intrusion. It might break your Force Bond with your apprentice, but some sacrifices must be made."
Indeed. They must. These Bonds only bring trouble.
"You're only promising me good things," I moved to the most unpleasant part of the conversation. "But what will I owe in return?"
"Return me to life," just like that?!
"Are you serious?" Did I really think it would be that simple? "Your body is destroyed."
"I am a Rakatan, you foolish child," the Mother Machine grew angry. "The last representative of the true Rakata, whose mind is not clouded by the desire for power and the enslavement of other sentients. Do you really think the limit of my dreams is to remain forever in this dungeon, altering my children? No! I want to live. Again. Breathe air. Taste food. Know the joy of physical contact again. Drink the blood of an enemy's still-warm corpse or eat its still-beating heart…"
Yeah, that's exactly what the galaxy has been sorely lacking lately, — I swallowed the lump rising in my throat. Release this monster into the wild?! She's planning to eat her enemies, and yet she says she's not an advocate of aggression and enslavement of others? If she's a pacifist of her kind, I don't want to meet representatives of her race who are aggressively inclined. I don't know about you, but the prospect scares the shit out of me.
"You said yourself your body was destroyed," I clung to the last chance to refuse.
"Naive child," she smirked. "I am the greatest scientist of my race, the elite of our society. Do you really think our society hasn't reached the level of development where it can use any Force-sensitive body for its own needs?"
Now it really felt bad. Because there were only three such bodies in the Mother Machine's room. And every single one of them was dear to me. To some degree.
"Silly child," the Rakatan laughed, obviously reading my thoughts again. "I am a representative of the most ancient race in the known galaxy. Do you really think I would defile myself by climbing into a slave's body? No. You will find me a Rakatan body. Strong and young."
"How?" I was taken aback.
"I will give you access to the Rakatan Archipelago," she said in a perfectly innocent tone.
"Just like that, you'll give me what I desire?!" I said incredulously. "Even considering you've already promised to improve my body?"
"Yes," again, sheer simplicity. "I need a strong ally. You don't think I'd let you destroy the Rakata, do you?"
"Wait, what? You said you killed them for revenge."
"I do. But not you. My people are outside your interests."
"Mother, I'm already confused," I had to admit. "You want me to lead you to the Rakatan Archipelago? And how will you take it over if your mind is in this computer?"
"No, child," Ashsha shook her head. "When I finish with your body, you will take the Mind Cage and move it to the New Forge. I will show you where to install it. I will repair your Forge — I will need many Force-users for the reconstruction. You will receive a huge fleet, which you will place under my command."
"I have plenty of experienced commanders," I objected. "Thrawn alone could handle breaking the Rakata's resistance perfectly well."
"The details don't matter," Ashsha interrupted me. "One way or another, you will return my mind to Rakatan territory. There I will choose a body, take control, and lead my people. And your army and fleet will help me with that. After all, your Imperial Knights need to test their abilities in real combat."
"Too good to be true."
"Undoubtedly," the Rakatan smirked. "Who else in the last twenty-five thousand years has managed to take advantage of such a chance?"
"But you helped Kallig. And you didn't ask him to restore your power."
"At that time, I didn't know the Rakata had survived in the archipelago. But now, thanks to you, it's no secret. Besides, how could a Sith have come to terms with a power rising somewhere in the galaxy capable of destroying his beloved Empire?"
"And you think I'd be happy with such a potential opponent?"
"Opponent?" the Mother Machine snorted. "No. The Rakata will remain within the boundaries of their current territory. Of course, you will have to return our homeland — Lehon. As well as the New Forge."
"And just give up the best factory in the galaxy like that?"
"Give up? No. The Rakata under my leadership will become excellent companions for the Eternal Empire. On the rights of an independent state, naturally. Receiving any kind of resources necessary for the new Rakatan Empire."
"Including Force-sensitive sentients, am I right?" I narrowed my eyes.
"You have to put potential threats somewhere, don't you? Jedi, Sith," Ashsha shrugged. "Leaving them alive is unwise and dangerous. You know that yourself. A small price for what I'm offering you."
"Isn't that asking a bit much?"
"And I'm offering quite a lot in return," the Rakatan said coldly. Irritation crept into her tone. "You're ready to form an alliance with the Chiss, who are inferior to my people in every way. Why is my Empire worse than these… children?"
"It isn't. But what guarantee is there that the Rakata won't one day turn against the Eternal Empire? If the Chiss rebelled, I could crush them. Not without bloodshed, of course."
"Is my word not enough for you?" Ashsha asked, surprised. Seeing that it wasn't, she added, "Fine. You can keep the Abo system, Lehon, and the New Forge under your control. But it will be run by my people. A small insurance in case you decide to build a fleet against me."
Ah, there's the bargaining. Though… how can you argue with a being that knows all your thoughts?
"I want something else too…"
"You can take all the slaves currently in the archipelago. But in exchange, I demand you share with me all the knowledge about the Force that you possess."
"To train your own army of Force-users?"
"Military parity," the Rakatan smiled. "Another guarantee that you'll think twice before attacking."
"Then Belsavis and the Esh-kha remain under my command."
"No. Take the planet and this complex, but my children stay with me," Ashsha replied sharply. "I need to have an army personally loyal to me, don't I?"
Yeah, no doubt there.
I was starting to like this deal less and less.
"I want the Mind Cage technology."
"Hm… a little surprise for your opponents?" the Rakatan nodded knowingly. "That's… acceptable. I think I can give you even more."
"Like New Year's. What else?"
"When I take my place over my people, your scientists will be able to study all the Rakatan technologies that exist in the archipelago's space."
"Really? Aren't you afraid we'll be able to build our own Star Forges?"
"Even if you started now, it would take you tens of thousands of years," Ashsha smirked. "You're not a Rakatan. You can't sacrifice thousands of Force-users to accelerate the Forge's evolutionary process."
Bitch.
"A tricky proposal," I smirked. "My fleet now, in exchange for future benefits."
"You're getting something right now," Ashsha reminded me. "Your body, for example. The prison complex and an entire planet, Belsavis. You've already guessed that the rituals performed on your servants, on your guards — they are similar to what is happening to you now, right? Imagine what you can do once you have control of the Mother Machine? For a growing Empire — more than decent gifts."
"You're so sure that after finishing our conversation now, I'll deliver you to your destination. Why?"
"Because the Bloody Claw is currently listening to its Mother, whom it has feared for thousands of years," the Rakatan smirked. "You have done me an invaluable service by bringing my children into the complex. I haven't managed that in almost three thousand years. Truly, your empathic abilities are great."
And again — bloody bitch.
And — bloody moron.
"So, two Empires, peacefully coexisting with each other," I said, trying the words on my tongue. "Hard to believe the Rakata won't start their campaign against the galaxy's sentients again."
"They will," she promised. "But not to the detriment of the Eternal Empire's interests and yours."
"I don't follow," I tensed. "The Unknown Regions are our sphere of interest. As is most of the galaxy."
"Really?" Ashsha smirked. "You'll have to share, young Emperor. For instance, when the Rakatan Empire pays a visit to the Gree Enclave, the Eternal Empire can always participate in dividing the spoils. And the talented slaves."
"In exchange for non-interference, I suppose?"
"Exactly. See, Emperor, how beneficial it is to negotiate," Ashsha said, her eyes flashing from opposite sides of her skull.
"Why do you need the Gree?" I inquired. "You've already destroyed another ancient race — the Kwa."
"Though the Gree have degraded — this process started during my lifetime — they are still skilled slaves. Their navigation equipment is the most advanced in the galaxy. I think it will be useful for my Empire, to avoid wasting Force-user resources. There are so few of them already," the Rakatan narrowed her eyes. "So, what is your answer, child?"
A choice.
Again.
Die now and lose for certain. Or agree, trusting her promises. And in the end, gain not only personal power but access to invaluable knowledge. The mere creation of the strongest Force adepts is worth it. Not to mention the modernization of the New Forge, Mind Cages, Force weapons…
A pity, of course, that I won't get to lay my grubby paws on the Gree Enclave alone — the last refuge of one of the most ancient and powerful races. But…
"I agree," do I even have a choice? Especially when my life depends on it. "But before we finish and get out of here, I have one more condition."
"Pushing your luck to the last drop?" the Rakatan inquired with a hint of threat in her voice. Then, pausing for a moment, reading the contents of my thoughts, she smiled. "Amusing… But nothing is impossible for me. Your wish will be the last condition of our agreement."
"Whatever you say, Ashsha," I shrugged. I'd already squeezed the maximum out of this situation. Glancing at the suspiciously silent Rakatan, I corrected myself. "Empress Ashsha."
"That's better, child," she praised. "Now, return to your servants. I can't wait to fulfill your last condition and get off this planet. I've been alone here for far too long."
"You've already finished with my body?" I was surprised.
"Before we even started this conversation," Ashsha tossed off carelessly, teaching me another lesson. Fine, noted. "Return your consciousness to your body. Our conversation has tired me considerably."
Consciousness returned instantly. There was a slight foggy hum in my head, and my whole torso tingled, like I'd "sat" on it. Not dangerous, but unpleasant. But — no tearing pain, no disorientation.
Definitely "fixed."
"Master," Kira was beside me instantly, catching me. Look at that, so small, yet so strong. Lifting a hundred-kilo mass — with armor — is no gym dumbbell workout. "Are you alright?"
"Seems like it," actually, there was a taste of utter chaos in my mouth, and my limbs obeyed poorly. But compared to how I felt even in this "boiled" state, a hundred times better than before this "procedure"… Yes, it was definitely worth it.
With a habitual thought, I called upon the Force, which responded not just instantly. It felt like it, like a chained guard dog trained by the best handlers in the galaxy, was just waiting for its master to summon it.
Channeling streams of energy through my body, I felt with reverence that my body… had changed. As if the channels through which the Force raged had been widened manifold, and now instead of a raging stream, I controlled an entire ocean. Considering my power had already been impressive… Now I felt capable of destroying planets just by directing my own Force reserve at them.
Might that the Sith of the past, and the Jedi too, no point hiding it, chased after — was now within my reach. Without any consequences.
"Looks like your Emperor will live a little longer," I snorted, watching Oli fly towards me like a cannonball and bury herself in my arms.
"I thought something had happened to you! All those lightning flashes, the glow, and that stupid computer just stayed silent," she babbled breathlessly. I hugged the girl, patting her head with a smile. Small, worried, she raged in the Force like an ocean of passions eroding the shores of accustomed norms.
"Were you scared?" I asked her.
"Like you wouldn't believe!" she declared with a sob. "Don't you dare scare me like that again, you fool! You were glowing so bright we could see your skeleton!"
"Mm?" I looked at Kira and the Twi'lek sisters in surprise. All three nodded affirmatively. Suspiciously, surprisingly synchronized.
"Everything has a price," I repeated the words I'd heard recently. Feeling that I could move on my own now without discomfort, I disengaged the Padawan from me as tactfully as possible. But Oli wouldn't be Oli if everything went that simply. Even though she unlocked both hands, she executed a virtuoso pirouette to end up on my right, putting my arm around her shoulder and wrapping her arm around my waist.
A familiar figure — Ashaa — appeared on the holoprojector. She silently watched us, arms crossed. When her eyes met mine, she raised an eyebrow questioningly.
"Are we leaving, Lord?" Kira inquired, looking at the hologram with a grim expression.
"Yes. But I need to do something first," I said, nodding to the rakata. I removed my arm from the girl's shoulder and looked into her eyes.
"Do you trust me?" Starstone's face showed complete bewilderment. Fear even flickered there. Eventually, the typical mask settled over her face, behind which the Padawan hid her delicate inner makeup.
Sighing, she looked at me reproachfully.
"Even if I say yes, we're still not going to sleep together, are we?"