**Plaguies Forward Operating Base Near Reflection of Eos City The Ethereal Realm 41 ABY **
“The Brotherhood’s forces are advancing across the Shattered Plains here, here, and here,“ General Ranthe Benzayne said, gesturing at the holo map that filled the central display. "But they’re seeing heavy resistance. Progress is slow.”
Selika leaned over in her battle armor and looked at the map showing the disposition of the Brotherhood’s forces with a critical eye. The sounds and smells of the battle were all around them, with the acrid smoke of burning military equipment in particular stinging her eyes. It was impossible to see if the dark sky above them in this place held any stars as a haze settled over the battlefield, unmoved by any breeze or wind. The ozone of blasters mingled with the tang of ash in her mouth, as not even her sense of taste spared the onslaught on her senses. What she sensed through the Force was no better, with the shock waves of Force energy rolling over her as the battle raged.
“And nearly as many of our collected forces are needed here to guard the portal,” Selika observed.
“Yes, my lord,” the Devaronian general confirmed. “And our units are more hampered than most. It seems like even the most Force-blind among us has been able to access the Force in surprising ways, but…”
“Our droids aren’t able to, of course,” Selika filled in as the general trailed off.
“Exactly,” Benzayne replied. “Though, I guess it’s better than an army of slaves suddenly being granted the ability to wield the Force. There’s no telling what the effect would have had on their indoctrination.”
“There is that, General,” Selika mused, a small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. “What course of action do you advise?”
Selika was not one for the strategy and tactics of military maneuver, and she had no issue asking her subordinates for their recommendations. As long as they knew their place, of course, which the commander of the Ascendant Legion very much understood.
“It looks like we might be able to outflank the Children’s forces here,” Benzayne indicated, enlarging a section of the holo display that focused on a unit on the far eastern edge of the battle zone. “Your squad of Death Troopers, in fact. They’ve been scouting this canyon area that seems to skirt the enemy positions. Past that, there seems to be some uneven terrain that covers several kilometers between the canyon and the Fortress of the Unchained.”
“Uneven terrain? Anything more specific than that?” Selika asked.
“Not as such, my lord,” Benzayne explained. “That’s the best we’ve been able to do with our long range scanners, and aerial recon has been a no go. Given the gravitational anomalies, repulsorcraft of any type have been basically useless.”
“And yet, we have damn near floating continents out there,” Selika said, shaking her head.
“It has been frustrating,” the General mused. “I never thought I’d be planning a barely-mechanized infantry assault.”
“You’ve acquitted yourself well, General,” Selika said, offering some encouragement.
“Thank you, my lord,” he answered. “We are going to deploy a small force to the area to get a better idea of if we can use it as a breakthrough point. It looks like… Arden Karn, Alaris Jinn, Eiko, and Nora Olen are set to lead a squad of droids.”
“Not leaving things to chance, General?” Selika queried.
“No, my lord. If this is a viable path forward to get us out of the slog that’s before us, I don’t want to miss it because we didn’t send any big guns.”
“Smart,” Selika said. “And when do they leave?”
“They should be preparing to depart now.”
“Good. Take me to where they’re forming up,” Selika ordered.
The general nodded as he led the Dread Lord out of the command and out into the well choreographed chaos of the Plagueian forward operating base. Temporary structures and tents formed a perimeter around a roughly squared off area of duracrete a few hundred meters on a side.
Formations of droids marched through the central area in seemingly random patterns as they headed towards their assignments. Vehicles were few and far between, with a few AT-AT walkers towering over the assembled forces as well as artillery droids moving along with the infantry. The scores of repulsor trucks, troop transports, and armored repulsorcraft that formed the backbone of the Ascendant Legion, however, were nowhere to be found. As they approached the far side of the base Selika could see their destination more clearly. Several AT-OT’s were lined up abreast of one another along the perimeter, and Selika could just make out the figure of Eiko standing atop the rear of one of them catching a supply bag that had been tossed from ground level by Arden.
“About the best we can do, infantry transport wise,” Benzayne said as he gestured to the cumbersome vehicles. “They might not be the newest, but they still get the job done.”
“It serves its purpose,” Alaris Jinn said, not turning to look at whom he was addressing as he and Nora oversaw the preparations.
“It does,” Selika echoed. “It will do nicely.”
“The vehicle should be able to get us close to our objective, if not all the way to the fortress,” Arden explained, wiping sweat from his brow. The former corporate enforcer turned corporate raider found himself far removed from the battlefield as often as not these days, but it was interesting to see how easily he returned to the carriage of a soldier.
“Yes, us,” Selika said, turning to face the Devaronian. “I’ll be going with them, General.”
“My lord?” Benzayne said with a confused look on his face. “I don’t believe that’s a good idea. I can’t ensure your safety.”
“I think I can ensure my own safety, General,” Selika responded haughtily.
“Then at least allow me to send more troopers with you,” General Benzayne implored her. “We can make accommodations.”
“General, you need every body and droid you have here for the moment, correct? The front lines need to be held until we determine if this alternate route is viable, and the portal out of this Sith forsaken place must be defended?” Selika asked.
“Yes, my lord,” the general replied with resignation.
“Then it’s settled,” Selika decreed. “You said it yourself, we can’t afford to let this opportunity slip through our fingers because we didn’t fully commit. Now, get yourself back to the command center and await our signal.”
The general nodded, offering his Dread Lord a salute before spinning on his heel and departing. The General had worked with Selika for the better part of a decade, and he knew when the discussion was over.
The last of the supplies were loaded aboard the AT-OT before the four passengers pulled themselves up the rear access ramp to join Eiko aboard the vehicle. Selika moved to a position at the front right corner of the cargo area as the walker got underway, looking out into the distance over the vehicle’s right shoulder.
“Why did you really come along?” came Alaris’s quiet voice from just behind her. Selika’s one time Proconsul able to see, where the General could not, when something else was going on.
“Is it that obvious?” Selika asked, turning around to face him.
“No,” Alaris answered, “but you and I are wired too similarly for me not to sense when you’ve got something else on your mind.”
“Remind me at some point to have you killed,” Selika joked.
“Don’t change the subject,” Alaris prodded. “Why are you here?”
Selika let the grin slip from her features as she turned back to face the horizon the walker strode towards.
“I’m not sure, I just feel something out there,” Selika explained.
“Well, that’s not much to go on. Is it a good something or a bad something?” Alaris wondered.
“That, I think, remains to be seen,” Selika said.
While it was true that Arden preferred the boardroom to the battlefield these days, it was still nice to actually go out and shoot someone every now and again. It never hurts to keep the skills sharp for starters. Also, ever since he’d gotten the fancy crystal powered blaster rifle he hadn’t really had a chance to properly test it out. It would be nice to turn the Children’s own tricks back on them. There was still something bothering the former corpo, however.
While he didn’t mind going into battle, something about this place made him feel uneasy. It wasn’t so much the terrain, he’d fought in pretty much every terrain and biome imaginable, as much it was just the place. To call this realm creepy was a massive understatement. As much as he learned about the Force and how to wield it, places like this reminded him of why he still didn’t trust it.
That and Alaris was here.
It wasn’t really a secret that Arden was never Alaris’ biggest fan. It was really hard to articulate why though, especially considering the events that set the whole disdain in motion didn’t turn out to be as he figured. Still, a mission was a mission and he’d have to put up with it. That didn’t help him from awkwardly staring at the blue Twi’lek and people were starting to notice. It was Nora who actually got the nerve to say something.
“Arden, what’s bothering you?”
Arden didn’t react to the question, but Eiko glanced over, smirked, and responded. “See there was this one time many years ago when the Saraask'ar, our Trandoshan friends got a bit uppity and tried to revolt and…”
Before Eiko could progress any further, Alaris whipped around and glared at Eiko.
“I thought we agreed to NEVER speak of that again.”
Eiko was referring to a rather embarrassing incident during Plagueis’ exodus from Kaspina that Arden hadn’t thought about in a long time. While he also shot Eiko a look, he didn’t say anything. Instead he stood up and started glancing around the terrain that was surrounding the transport. While the terrain had been fairly flat and open for the early part of the journey, Arden noticed they were moving into the canyons on the approach to the city. What was worse was that the canyon walls were starting to grow ever higher and ever closer.
“What’s got him bothered now?” Nora asked. Eiko shrugged and smugly sat back in his seat as Arden still seemed to be looking for something. Eventually, the Ettian finally spoke up.
“Anyone else get the feeling we’re heading deeper and deeper into perfect ambush territory in an open topped vehicle?”
The others started looking around too but didn’t seem to share Arden’s level of concern. This also caught Selika’s attention and as she started to speak, a blaster shot rang out. Arden deftly stepped to the side and ducked, having been warned by the Force, the shot lancing through the neck of the OOM droid sitting next to him. Before the droid’s now severed head even hit the ground. Arden had already brought his head around to where the shot came from and had his rifle to his eye. While the other Plagueians started diving for cover at various speeds, the droids were much slower to react and several more blaster bolts rained down from what looked like a squad strength unit of Mortis troopers split between both sides of the canyon.
As the droids were getting cut down all around him, Arden carefully lined up a shot on the first enemy trooper that had fired. It was a fairly tricky shot since the enemy had the high ground and was only barely peeking over the lip of the canyon, but for a skilled sniper like him, it wasn’t that problematic. As the human scored his first hit, Alaris was already pounding on the pilot’s hatch to get their attention before opening it and shouting.
“Sergeant, pick up the pace would you. And get some fire on those contacts!”
“Yessir!” The pilot shouted back. The gunners were already making attempts to maneuver the guns to fire back, but were having a hard time getting enough elevation to target the Mortis soldiers. The first shots from the transport’s gunners simply made scorch marks on the canyon’s rocky walls.
While Arden lined up shot after shot with his own rifle with seeming ease, the droids along with Eiko and Nora were having a hard time getting clean shots on the elevated troopers. Selika, for her part, contributed by using her skills with the Force to push away a thermal detonator that would have landed in the transport and instead clatter off the canyon walls and fall, detonating near the AT-OT’s second port side knee joint. While the Force users were having little difficulty either parrying shots with their lightsabers or absorbing them with their Barriers, the droids were not faring as well. In the course of a few minutes, most of them had been destroyed and only a couple were unscathed. Amongst all the chaos, Arden did hear Eiko shout two words over the sound of battle as he pointed at the ridge to the left.
“Rocket trooper!”
Arden wheeled around and lined up a shot which caught the trooper in the neck just as he fired. The shot caused the rocket to go slightly off target and impact the roof of the pilot’s compartment. The resulting explosion took out most of the remaining droids and caused the massive transport to shutter as its control systems were damaged. Arden noticed another rocket trooper peek over the canyon lip and eliminated him before he could get his shot off. As the second rocket trooper fell over the canyon edge and bounced off the transport, the rest of the troopers began to fall back. Just as the last couple were leaving though, one last shot ripped through the air and into the back of Eiko’s ribcage.
As the last of the enemy troops retreated from their vantage points on the canyon ridges, the remaining Plagueian droids quickly sprang into action. With their mechanical precision, they began assessing the damage inflicted on the AT-OT walker during the firefight. Sparks flew as welding torches ignited, and droids used their various tools to patch up the battered transport. Despite the damage, the walker was still operational, and it was crucial to keep it that way.
Meanwhile, the soldiers inside the AT-OT started to regroup, checking their blasters and securing any loose equipment that had been jostled during the attack. Eiko, clutching his wound, sat down heavily, wincing at the pain. Alaris, ever vigilant, pointed at Eiko and ordered Nora to attend to him.
“Nora, fix it,” Alaris commanded.
Nora hesitated, her eyes flickering with uncertainty. “I…I don’t know if I can Alaris. This wound is severe.”
Arden, still vigilant at his post, glanced back at Nora and chimed in, his voice tinged with urgency. “Nora, you’re our best chance. The Force is strong here, more potent than anywhere else we’ve been. You can do this.”
With a deep breath and a resolute nod, Nora moved closer to Eiko. She reached out with her hands, her fingers governing over the charred wound on his side. Her eyes closed in concentration as she channeled the Force. Dark Side tendrils, almost like inky shadows, extended from her fingertips and enveloped Eiko’s injured area. The tendrils seemed to merge with his flesh, knitting it back together and staunching the bleeding. Eiko gasped, feeling the restorative energy flow through him.
The healing process was unsettling to witness, but effective. Eiko’s wound closed before their eyes, leaving only a faint scar as a testament to the injury he sustained. Nora stepped back, visibly drained but triumphant.
Alaris climbed back to the command deck next to Arden, his expression contemplative. He couldn’t help but comment, “You don’t have to like me, Arden, but you’re still alive after all these years. Maybe I had something to do with that.”
Arden’s attention remained focused on their surroundings, his sharp eyes scanning the canyon walls. The terrain seemed to shift before his eyes, transitioning from rocky natural formations to something altogether different. It was as if the canyon walls were morphing into duracrete structures, resembling buildings.
“Alaris, look at this,” Arden said, his voice tense. “The shape of these walls… they’re like buildings.”
Alaris peered out, his eyes widening with realization.
The revelation sent shivers down their spines. A planet they had all thought was left behind, now appeared before them in this eerie realm. The very thought brought back memories of their past, memories that they had tried to bury deep within them. It was a place of darkness and conflict, a place they had fought to escape.
As the AT-OT continued to labor through the canyon, the realization sunk in that they were not only trapped in an unfamiliar realm but also confronted by the ghosts of their past. The mission had taken an unexpected turn, and they were left to grapple with the mysteries of this strange world and the memories it had dredged up.
Selika, at the forefront of the walker, watched the shifting surroundings with a sense of foreboding. She knew that she had ventured into uncharted territory, both literally and figuratively. In this ethereal realm, where the boundaries between reality and the Force blurred, they had no choice but to press forward and confront whatever challenges lay ahead.
The journey continued, their path winding deeper into the city and the echoes of their past grew louder with each step.
“Good lord. This is Ellesmeria. This is Kapsina.”
Alaris hated nostalgia, and he specifically hated nostalgia that brought back pain. The worst part of the Horizon plague, for Alaris anyway, had been explaining to the New Republic that the Jusadih system was leaving its sphere of influence and joining the First Order, all while making sure the Republic never investigated the system. Maintaining the Brotherhood’s masquerade was important for its survival.
Nora had joined them on the command deck, leaving Eiko to rest with his freshly repaired back. “What is this?”
“It’s our former -” Arden was cut off by the Twi’lek.
“It’s a spectre of the past, and we had best leave it behind.” Alaris was about to give an order to the new pilot, a young human whose name Alaris had never learned, when he was also interrupted. The sound that ripped through the streets was piercing and overwhelming. Like air being sucked back into the throats of thousands of tuskans while never releasing their war cries or flights of banshees ripping through a Dagobah sky.
“Is that -” Arden didn’t finish his thought. It had been a decade since the last time he had heard that sound.
Selika had climbed up to the deck herself when she heard the violent scream. “What on Arx?”
Alaris shook his head. “Not Arx.” He turned to the group.
“Run.”
Arden didn’t need to be told twice. He knew what was coming. Nora and Selika looked at each other for a brief moment before following suit. The quatro dropped into the lower deck. Alaris yanked an emergency break through the Force and the AT-OT came to an abrupt stop. Gears creaked and lubricants burst forth from their hydraulic casings. The damage from the previous attack still weighed heavily on the walker, and the Twi’leks haphazard Force “yanking” didn’t help.
“Grab the Revanite,” Alaris barked, referring to Eiko. The human had been barely awake but knew the sound that was descending on them as he would a recurring nightmare.
As the side speedexit opened, a slew of sparks flew past the group and struck the mix of oils and hydraulic fluid. The flames didn’t take long to lick the sides of the vehicle, but the four Plagueians managed to slip out quickly.
Wait. Four?
Alaris counted again as the group ran. Selika was not in their numbers. The flames had cut her off from the exit and instead of jumping over, she turned toward the front of the walker again at the sound of another air sucking scream.
This was exactly what Alaris had been afraid of. The only thing in the entirety of the Force that had ever brought him any sense of fear. He had stood toe-to-toe with Dark Lords of the Sith, the Force ghost of a long dead Muun, the Children. The only thing that had ever swallowed the twi’lek in horror were the Force Wraiths crawling like a black goo by the hundreds out of the cracks in the duracrete buildings.
The twi’lek watched a violet lightsaber burst to life. “She’s not going to try to -”
“I’d rather not wait and find out,” Arden yelled at him.
The four ran as quickly as their hobbled bodies would take them. They realized too late that their comlinks were still active. Alaris stopped and turned back toward the AT-OT and watched the bodies of dread wraiths smother the walker and take it apart piece by piece. It was ripped to pieces and so was everything inside.
Alaris could hear the screams of the remaining sentients within the walker begging for help or redemption; pleading to gods that may have existed in the last moment of their lives before silence ripped over the comms like a blanket being put over a fire. Soon there was no sign that a walker had ever been there and there was no sign of a violet lightsaber and no sign of Selika.
The twi’lek turned and broke back into a sprint to catch up to his comrades and then realized another horrible truth, “they” were in pursuit. The wraiths closed in and Alaris sneered. If he was going to die today, it wasn’t going to be running away.
He skidded to a stop, dust and stones skidding away from his heel. In a flash, his viridian blade burst to life and Alaris Jinn di Plagia assumed his initial stance. His lightsaber hung from his forefinger and thumb near the emitter. The horde grew ever closer. Alaris spread his legs slightly, ready to leap into his certain death.
In his mind he heard a voice from so long ago he thought he was a Journeyman again. “No death for you today, young Alaris.”
Bright violet streams of concentrated Force energy burned through the atmosphere, singeing molecules and impurities and coursed into the wave of oncoming violence. It was followed up by masked soldiers in black armor opening fire with waves of blaster bolts. The lightning stopped and a figure in deep amethyst robes with an azure lightsaber flung himself into the fray.
Alaris quickly joined the man and the two, weaving through enemies like a dance, dispatched hundreds of the beasts. Alaris couldn’t explain it. His speed was enhanced. He felt stronger, tougher. It was as if this man was helping Alaris become even stronger than he already was.
The wraiths withered, died, and then several retreated back into the dark holes of the shadow Kapsina. As the dust settled and the remnants of the walker collapsed, the mysterious man turned to face Alaris finally.
“Alaris Jinn,” he said fondly. “It has been some time.”
The twi’lek’s mouth dropped as he gazed upon a face he had not seen in over a decade. The perpetual youth of Jonaleth Isradia smiled back at him.
“Master Isradia.”
The scarring on his ribs was still tender, tight and taut with the escape from the AT-OT, and his mind was cloudy. As he ran behind the others through the mixture of canyon walls and distorted buildings, the crackling of sabers behind toward the wreckage pulled Eiko’s attention.
“Arden! Nora! Hold up!” he called from the back of the formation. “Jinn’s back there.”
“No stopping here,” Arden called back, and pointed around at the sheer walls.
“This is Kapsina,” he blurted to the exasperation of Arden and Nora.
“Yes. We know.”
Eiko stumbled on his thoughts, collecting the scraps and plastering them together. With a long breath, he squeezed the thoughts into a solid form. “Who all wanted us dead ten years ago? Everyone. Everything. We were baited.”
Arden stepped towards Eiko’s hunched form and tersely whispered. “Yes, we know. Now that you’re caught up–”
“This was ours,” Eiko interrupted. “Whose memories are we walking around in?”
“Does it matter if it all wants to kill us anyways?”
“It does if we know Ellesmeria better. Off the path, maybe defensible. But we’ll stand a better chance if we don’t leave Alaris.” Eiko felt his thoughts sway and buckle before he could straighten his back and his mindset. “Stopping is suicide. Going back is worse. Selika’s Death Troopers are ahead, and that’s better than anything we’ll find out here. You’re rattled.” Arden’s expression was firm, but not unreasonable. “We can breathe easier when we’re out of the narrows.”
Damn right, Eiko chastised himself. It wasn’t the first – or even closest – brush with death that he’d experienced, but something about it shot straight into his core. Maybe it was being back on world he knew was long since dead or the overwhelming swell of the Force in every detail. He slapped the collar of his armor, making sure that the gaskets and latches leading to his mask were tight, then took a slow, methodical breath to focus.
“Understood,” he nodded at Arden, forcing the tension in his voice to go cold and determined.
Arden didn’t waste time searching for Eiko’s expression behind the mask, turning and picking a way down the pitted streets.
“Think happy thoughts… or something,” Nora shrugged. “At least–” She let the sentence drop as Eiko snapped to face her.
“Don’t.” he warned, “But, thank you.”
The three kept as brisk of a pace as they could manage down the streets. Eiko had visited Ellesmeria only a few times before the destruction of Kaspina, never lingering at the street level. They were indistinct, perhaps smeared together from dozens of thoughts. It seemed more plausible than a reflection. Maybe it was his years away from the esoteric eccentricities of the Brotherhood or his rattled thoughts, but a spiritual copy seemed less… real.
The shrieking, however, definitely was real. All at once, it poured out of alleys and down from the rooflines with the froth of a cresting wave.
Arden launched himself forward in empowered leaps to get ahead of the mass of spectral shapes, and Eiko concentrated on drawing on the amplified hum of the Force to follow suit. He took angled bounds from one side of the street to the other to stay behind Nora, baiting the wraiths’ attention.
The comlink channel brightened from static to signal. “– from the explosion. They’re either very bouncy friendlies or ghosts in heavier armor, approaching from the east. Hang on…”
A blaster shot ripped from the end of the road into the ghastly tide.
“Fresh wave behind them. Looks bigger.”
Selika felt oppressive darkness all around her as she struggled to regain consciousness. She had assumed that the writhing mass of humanoid wraiths that had overrun her would have spelled her end, but the pain she felt throughout her body made it very much clear she was still alive. She kept her eyes closed and remained limp as she took stock of her condition. Probably a few fractured ribs to go along with the throbbing pain of other impacts, but it appeared that her limbs all had remained intact.
“I can feel you in there,” a voice spoke to her, a slight echo coming with it. “You might as well stop pretending.”
Selika opened her eyes slowly, finding that even the dim lighting that greeted her eyes sent new stabs of pain into her head. Realizing she was probably concussed, she allowed her eyes to focus slowly as she took in her surroundings. She was seated in a highly polished, high backed wooden chair. The chamber surrounding her was fairly large, looking as if the walls were made of some sort of finished stone. The only light, thankfully, came from a few small torches burning in sconces widely spaced along the walls. Directly before her was a huge floor to ceiling window that offered an expansive view. The view, however, was one that Selika recognized.
She had never looked out upon this vista, having only ever seen it in holograms, but the skyline of the capital city of Kapsina was easily identifiable. The place she now found herself, as a result, could only be one place. The throne room within the Dark Tower, the very heart of Plagueian power in Ellesmeria. As she looked closer, Selika could see that the buildings on the other side of the transparisteel seemed somehow hazy, both there and not. In some places she could just make out the sky through the buildings themselves.
“This echo is not exactly what I remember,” the voice from behind her said, “But it is probably better off than what actually remains.”
Pushing herself up into a standing position, Selika turned to face the speaker. He sat on the throne that stood atop a raised dais several steps above the rest of the room. He seemed. Even as the shadows cloaked his face Selika could see that he appeared to be a well built man of average height. She could also, however, see that he had the same, intangible form as those that had brought her here. A wraith, then. Though one that seemed to have a more tightly controlled form than the others. Those damned souls’ bodies and robes had seemingly swirled together, their faces deformed to the point of barely being recognized as such.
“Who are you?” Selika asked her captor.
“Who? Not ‘Why am I here’?” he said quietly.
“I would assume,” Selika said, grimacing as a fresh pain radiated out from her ribs, “that the first question would inform the other.”
“How true, how true,” he continued. “The truth is that I have had so many different names over the years it’s hard to keep track. Founder, Herald, Grand Master…”
“Titles,” Selika spat back.
“One of the Seven, Traitor to the Hammer, oh I quite liked that one,” the man continued, sadistic glee coloring his words.
Selika kept silent, making the effort to hide the pain that crossing her arms in frustration caused.
“Chi-long,” the man said, standing and letting the light finally bathe his face, “Though the one that fits me best is Faethor.”
Selika swallowed, forcing down the alarm that ghostly form staring her down threatened to overwhelm her with. “So yet another dusty ghost from the past,” Selika said, affecting a false bravado that she could not manage in truth.
“Just stop it,” Faethor spat, “You are as easy to read as an open book. You’re lucky to be standing upright and we both know it.”
Selika gathered herself again, Faethor’s smile showing that he could see through her just as easily as he had told her. “Then why did you bring me here?”
“I thought you said that knowing who would answer the question of why,” Faethor mocked her. “I guess you weren’t as cunning as you thought.”
Selika did not rise to his bait, remaining silent. The ghostly man standing before her seemed to hesitate a moment, and then shrug.
“You are the avenue by which I can reclaim all that is mine,” Faethor explained. “Starting with the pathetic excuse for a Clan that you have allowed Plagueis to become.”
“Plagueis is not yours,” Selika defiantly proclaimed.
“I AM PLAUGIES!” Faethor thundered, the carefully maintained facade of calm burning away. The rage within him was visible, as a red fire glowed within his eyes and crackling energy arced through the air around him. “I built it, and I will have it back. And it is just the beginning.”
“Aiming to take the rest of the Brotherhood back?” Selika asked, using all her will to not retreat before his anger.
“As if the simpering oafs who call themselves the Council could stand against me,” Faethor boasted, his manner seemingly more under control once again.
“And you’re going to do that from here exactly how?” Selika prodded him.
“Oh, not from here. I’ll be leaving this place quite soon,” Faethor explained. “The cataclysm that devastated Kapsina left the veil between worlds weakened here in this place. Your Brotherhood is not the only place one can find those with the strength to punch through between worlds.”
“Let me guess, you’re going to try to make me help you,” Selika said, attempting to maintain her calm.
“Oh no, you are but a vessel. Your assistance, your… cooperation, is not required,” Faethor said with a smile.
Before Selika could react, the somewhat substantial form of the wraith dissolved into something far less corporeal, a swirling mass of something resembling smoke shot through with flashes of Force energy. And yet, somehow, Selika could still see Faethor’s features within it, more Force apparition than man now. With blinding speed the Force entity that had once been Grand Master of the Brotherhood and Consul of Clan Plagueis enveloped her, driving her conscious mind back again into the darkness.
Arden didn’t particularly like running from a fight. Hiding from it or repositioning was one thing but outright running wasn’t something he was used to doing. It was hard being accurate when you were moving at high speed so he liked to plant and shoot, even if he had to move afterwards. However, given the numbers amassed against them, that wasn’t an option. After doing an elegant jump over a low barrier and popping off a single shot into the waves behind him, he noticed a glint in the distance in the opposite direction. Taking a moment to look down his scope, he confirmed what he saw and then gestured in that direction.
“Found the Death Troopers, let’s get moving,” he said authoritatively to the group.
He noticed Nora shoot him a bit of a look but, for the moment anyway, she didn’t protest. After a few more leaps and a short sprint, the trio turned the corner and came face to face with the squad of black clad troopers. As Arden and the others took a moment to catch their breath, the lead trooper glanced around taking stock of the group. A quick moment later, he spoke up with a stern voice.
“Where is she?”
“Selika I assume you mean?” Nora responded.
The trooper exhaled sharply and then repeated himself even more sternly.
“Where is she?”
Arden and Nora looked at each other for a moment, neither particularly wanting to be the one that gave the answer. Sensing the awkwardness of the moment, Eiko finally broke the silence.
“Lost track of her in the fighting when the transport went down.”
“Lost? You LOST her?” The lead trooper shouted angrily as he loosed several blaster bolts at approaching wraiths. “And where’s the Twi’lek?”
Arden sighed before answering . “Dealing with the ghosts of his past as well, assuming that was who I thought it was back there.”
Eiko gave a quick nod of confirmation. Jonaleth was before Arden’s time, but he knew enough to have some idea of who he saw.
“Part of me wants to shoot the lot of you, but that will have to wait.” The trooper’s tone was incredibly cross.
Arden nodded, but said nothing to continue the topic as there wasn’t time for that argument right now. Instead he glanced around and saw the approaching wall of wailing wraiths. “We have to keep moving, get out of this killzone and link back up with the main body. It’s our best chance of survival.”
“There should be a route out of the city to the west, if I remember correctly. It has been awhile.” Eiko added.
Nora shot another look at Arden and actually said something this time. “Excuse me Arden, last time I checked, I was the ranking officer here.”
Arden looked away for the moment to join the troopers in laying down some fire to delay the wraiths, but then shot a look back at Nora. “Last I checked, I was the Elder who actually has some knowledge of where we are.”
“Both of you, save it,” Eiko jumped in. “We need to go and unless someone has a better idea in the next two seconds, we’re going with Arden’s plan.”
Hearing no additional suggestions, the group took off down the street in the indicated direction.
If Colonel DT-6430 had ever known his real name, he certainly didn’t remember it any longer. The Death Trooper officer had been, simply, “6430” for all of his adult life. Death Trooper conditioning was more than that of a simple Stormtrooper, allowing for more critical thinking and freedom, but it was still training that left an officer primed to respect the orders of his superior.
So, if that was the case, why was 6430 absolutely convinced that he was making the wrong decision. That following Arden Karn, former Dread Lord, was a mistake. It wasn’t just that the Wraiths kept trying to cut them off, blocking their path out of the city as best they could.
Kark it, he thought to himself, It’s almost like they’re trying to herd us back into the heart of the city and even still I’m convinced that we should be going that way.
The Colonel watched as his two squad members laid down suppressing fire, allowing the trio of Force users that accompanied them to advance past an intersection into cover. He still couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. It was more than the sense of frustration from his failure to protect his primary. It just felt wrong. Maybe it was this place, as he knew that he and his subordinates had been able to feel something more here, some part of what must be the Force. Perhaps what he was sensing was simply what those who could wield the Force would often refer to as a bad feeling about this. As his squad advanced forward under the watchful eye of Arden’s sniper rifle, 6430 switched his comm over to his private, intra-squad frequency.
“Commander, Captain, what’s your read on our situation?” he asked his squad.
“I’m not sure, Colonel,” came 7579’s voice over the comm, an answer showing uncertainty the woman rarely displayed. “I feel like retreating is a mistake, sir.”
“Agreed,” 8118’s clear tenor came across the channel. “I understand we’re supposed to follow orders, but the protection of the primary should come first. Shouldn’t it?”
The last sounded about as unsure as 6430 had ever heard his young medic. 8118 was usually one to follow orders without the hint of a question, but something was obviously not right to him this time.
You’re right, something is wrong.
The deep male voice thundered in the colonel’s head as if someone had implanted a vocoder in his skull. Shaking his head slightly as if to clear it, 6430 looked at his squad and saw that they too were suddenly unsteady.
“You hear that?” he asked over their comm.
Of course they heard it, worm, the voice came again. All you need to understand is that you’re going the wrong way. You need to make it back to your master.
“And where is she?” the squad commander asked, almost to himself.
The Dark Tower, of course. Now get them to follow you. DO IT.
Nearly staggered by the force of the voice in his head, 6430 held up his fist to signal the group to stop.
“What do you see, Colonel?” Arden asked them, senses alert and the rifle ready in his hands.
“Nothing, my lord,” he answered. “It’s just that I haven’t been able to shake this feeling that we’re going the wrong way. That we should be heading back to the Dark Tower.”
“And why, exactly, should we be going there?” Nora asked incredulously.
“Isn’t that in the opposite direction, the very heart of the city?” Eiko added.
“Yes, my lords,” the colonel continued. “But, I think Selika is there. And she’s alive.”
The look on Arden’s face did little to hide the disdain he seemed to be feeling. “And how, exactly, do you know that?”
LIE TO HIM. DO IT.
“I’m not exactly sure how, my lord,” 6430 stalled, searching for something to say. “I think, I think she spoke to me.”
“He’s right,” 7579 chimed in. “I think we all heard her voice in our heads.”
“The same for me,” 8118 volunteered.
“This realm is overly charged with the Force,” Eiko said hesitantly. “It’s possible that they heard her telepathic call.”
“And why not us, then? Why did only you three hear it?” Arden asked them.
“We are her personal guard,” 6430 speculated. “We spend as much time in close proximity to her as anyone else. Maybe it left us, I don’t know, more attuned? Receptive?”
“It’s possible,” Nora said, seeming to accept the possibility. “And It might not be entirely… healthy for us to return without the Dread Lord if it were to get out that we knew she was alive.”
“We’re Sith,” Arden said, “backstabbing is part of the job.”
“The woman did run the Shroud Syndicate for three years,” Eiko pointed out. “She probably has agents everywhere. And I don’t know about you, but I don’t exactly relish the idea of having to suspect every morsel of food I eat or beverage I drink as my possible murder weapon.”
“All right, all right,” Arden said, holding up his hands, “You’ve convinced me. We head back to the Dark Tower. Why not, I’m sure there’s something of mine left in my quarters.”
Well done, my boy, the voice returned again, still nearly rattling 6430’s teeth but, obviously, no longer angry. All the pieces will be on the board exactly where I need them.
“Faethor has been ruling the Ethereal Ellesmeria since the Horizon’s Plague.” Jonaleth’s voice was measured but rushed, trying to get through the entire story of the last 100 years. Alaris had assumed that time passed differently here, and this confirmation concerned and excited him. “He’s developed the ability to control the wraiths. We are all that remain of the ghosts here.”
Alaris looked at the armored soldiers around him. They were all armed with various blaster rifles, repeaters, and pistols. “Why do they remain fully armored?”
The group tread through the debris and refuse of the broken city. The Dark Tower reached skyward like a hand grasping for assistance as its body drowned in the abyss below.
Jonaleth shook his head. “Their bodies are merely spirits. My connection to the dark side has given me ample strength that has grown over the decades. This has allowed me to keep my shape. The Force doesn’t differentiate between light and dark here. It is as if I have become a Force ghost, with similar strength to those who learned from Qui-Gon Jinn.”
The company stopped before the main thoroughfare. Alaris took a seat himself and took a long drink from his canteen. A few minutes passed before he spoke again. “You look corporeal enough.”
“As will Chi Long.” He looked up at the tower as if to reference where the old Dark Lord of the Sith lay in wait. “I have spent the last 100 years studying its intricacies here. I still don’t understand it fully.”
Master Isradia stood again. “I’m sure you’re full of questions, and I will answer them in the fullness of time.” He took a few steps toward the tower and smiled. “Faethor knows you are here now and we need to engage him quickly or he will be more than prepared.”
Alaris nodded and started his march with Jonaleth down the thoroughfare.
The wraiths didn’t attack. They lay in wait and watched from the cracks and windows in the surrounding buildings. Ellesmeria’s thoroughfare was mostly government and administrative buildings. They had brutalist architecture; function over form.
“I don’t like this,” Alaris thought aloud.
“He knows we’re coming and he wants us there.”
The ghostly company waited at the front entrance of the Tower, taking up defensive positions. Alaris assumed they were anticipating the potential to defend themselves from the wraiths. Jonaleth and Alaris climbed the structure together. Alaris couldn’t explain where his sudden strength was being drawn from. Perhaps it was the proximity to a Force ghost who had lived multiple lifetimes, or maybe it was just the Ethereal Realm empowering him to the strength of a Sith Lord.
Reaching its pinnacle took relatively no time at all. Chi Long lived high above the people who he thought were below him. Traditional throne rooms were on the main floor, so that a ruler could meet with their people. Building his throne room at the top of a decadent tower only further proved Faethor’s arrogance.
Alaris and Jonaleth each put their hands on the doors, which seemed like ghostly wood, but had the strength of durasteel. The doors swung open and clanged against the walls, vibrating and swinging back in ever slightly. Alaris’s lightsaber sprung to life, ready to go to war with the former Grand Master but -
“He’s not here.”
The only figure Alaris could see was a woman in purple robes looking into a fireplace. The stone fireplace was lit with a faint violet flame that still cast light across the room as if it were a blazing red fire.
“Selika!” Alaris called out to her, his mind fluctuating between relief and disappointment.
The woman turned back toward him with a pair of sickly blue eyes, which did not belong to Selika, though the body seemed to.
“Selika is gone. Only Faethor remains.”
Alaris looked at Jonaleth and shrugged, “I guess two birds with one stone ain’t that bad an idea.” He started to take a step forward but suddenly felt the Force, the same one amplifying him for his visit, squeeze him in place. The Dark Lord of the Sith didn’t even raise her hand to stop him, he just froze.
“Oh, you didn’t think I was going to just let you walk in the front door and disrupt my plans did you?” Faethor asked through Selika’s voice. “No no. See, Master Isradia here is one of my oldest allies. He was instrumental in the creation of Clan Plagueis from the side of Exar Kun, and he was instrumental in bringing you here.”
Alaris rolled his eyes and looked back over at his would-be compatriot. “Really, Isradia? Deception? I mean, I’ve heard of Krath banthakark, but this takes the cake.”
While Alaris stared daggers into Master Isradia, Faethor chuckled. “I needed someone I knew would intrigue you. Who did you think I would have used? Calliban Crimson?”
The Twi’lek shuddered and looked back at Faelika. “Alright, and then what did you have in mind for me?”
“Oh, you my dear child. You are the perfect battery.”
Tendrils of the dark side erupted from the possessed woman and engaged Alaris Jinn in a level of agony had not even felt from Braecen Kaeth’s torture. He could not help but scream and mountains of dark side energy filled his very being. Before he could understand what was happening, he saw, at least he thought he saw, a violet and black hole begin to materialize where the throne used to be.
The sudden horror and realization sprung upon him in an instant.
The streets of Ellesmeria were strangely deserted, with the wraiths they had seen earlier few and far between. Colonel DT-6430 led their band quickly from building to building, still moving as if they were at risk from their adversaries.
“This is erie,” Nora observed from behind him. “We’ve hardly seen hide nor hair, so to speak, of any of the wraiths.”
“Probably because they weren’t expecting us to be stupid,” Arden offered back. “Running headlong into the rancor’s den seems like a good way to have your head bitten off.”
“Unpredictability in the face of the enemy has a quality all its own,” Eiko offered. “Wouldn’t you agree, colonel?”
“Exactly, my lord. Tactically the enemy expects us to go one way, so we go another. It’s also possible that the wraiths have become preoccupied with something else, either the Children or other Brotherhood forces. There are plenty of other distractions,” 6430 explained.
“And we shouldn’t be calling for backup, why, exactly?” Arden asked, though it was clear that his heart wasn’t really behind his objection. It was almost as though the lack of targets to get his sights on coupled with the abandonment of his plan had soured his mood and he was taking it out on the death trooper squad.
Tell him there’s no time to wait, you need to get here NOW.
“We don’t have the time to waste, my lord,” Commander DT-7579 replied. “Given the unreliability of most repulsor transport, rapid reinforcement is effectively out of the realm of possibility.”
“Yes, you’re right,” Arden said with a sigh. “It took us an extended period to get here aboard the walker.”
“And I doubt the Dread Lord has that time remaining,” 6430 advised. “Not if our medic’s efforts aren’t to prove irrelevant.”
“Or my heightened healing talents,” Nora said wryly.
“Exactly, ma'am,” Captain DT-8118 agreed. “Not much effective healing you can do on the dead.”
“Cut the chatter,” the colonel ordered to his men, though more of a suggestion to the three Sith that accompanied them. “There’s our target.”
The Dark Tower of Clan Plagueis, or at least this ethereal facsimile, rose sharply into the sky before them. Ornate in its decoration and approach even at the “rear”, the structure was accessed by a wide stairway on the other side of an open plaza. Sickly amalgamations of trees flanked the wide parkway paved in some sort of black stone leading to the tower steps. And dotted around the plaza, in defensive positions or milling about, were several of the wraiths they had come to know in this Sith-forsaken place.
“It honestly doesn’t look all that different from the last time I saw it,” Arden mused.
“You’re joking,” Nora said, looking on in disbelief.
“What the Horizons Plague did to Kapsina was worse than anything the Children have wrought,” Arden went on, his jaw set sternly.
“Trust me when I say you never want to see it again,” Eiko went on. “A Clan doesn’t abandon an entire star system unless it has become, quite literally, hell.”
Nora nodded soberly, her expression showing that her opinions of the horrors the two had witnessed were being revised. It was one thing to read a report, or even see a holo. Seeing it in real life, or as close as the Ethereal Realm could offer, was yet another.
“I thought you were keeping these out of our way,” 6430 said under his breath so that only the incorporeal voice could hear it.
These are outside my control, my boy. You are just going to have to fight through them.
“Great,” he muttered to himself before addressing the rest of the group. “It looks like that’s our best entry point. My lord, any suggestions?”
“Well, as much as I’d favor setting up a blind and covering you all,” Arden said, his senses taking in everything around him as he half closed his eyes to push his awareness outward with the Force, “From what you said there isn’t time to engage in anything so time consuming. So, walking in the front door it is.”
“Once again I say you’re joking,” Nora said.
“Come now, give me a little more credit than that. Colonel, a thermal detonator,” Arden ordered.
The colonel motioned captain 8118 forward. The medic pulled his detonator from its place on his belt and handed it to the elder Plagueian.
“Never underestimate the power of misdirection,” Arden said, pointing out across the plaza at a building that flanked the tower to the west. “Once I throw this Nora, would you be so kind as to guide it through the second story window above the mezzanine? I think you’re the best with your telekinesis.”
“I’ll give it a shot, but I think we’re going to need more than a distraction,” Nora replied as she readied herself.
“Trust me,” Arden said, activating the timer on the device.
Cocking his arm back, Arden then flung the explosive forward across the plaza. His own strength alone would have been insufficient to reach its goal, but then Nora’s Force energies closed around it with invisible fingers to guide it to its destination.
“Now let’s hope this works,” Arden said, trailing off and closing his eyes.
Suddenly the Colonel’s perceptions opened to include everything around him. He could see, no, feel where his compatriots were in his mind. The enemies across the plaza came into sharp focus in a way that he could not describe. Then, with an ear shattering blast, the thermal detonator exploded in the building across the plaza, spraying duracrete outward in all directions.
“No, that’s not right…” 6430 said, realizing that he had felt the explosion, saw what it would do, a few heartbeats before it had actually happened.
“Time to see what battle meditation and precognition can do in this crazy place!” Arden yelled. “Go!”
The six of them charged into the plaza almost as one, their footfalls effectively in lockstep with one another as they raced to close the distance between them and their destination. As they ran it was as if they could feel each of their enemies movements a few seconds before they made them. The wraiths rushed at them, more than those few in the plaza as those who had been waiting in the surrounding buildings joined them. As each one of them reached out to grasp at them, the Plagueians were able to avoid the strikes they saw in their mind’s eye before they happened in reality. Blaster energy or lightsaber strikes ripped through the wraiths, dissipating their energy so that it would take them hours to reform. It wasn’t possible to kill them, of course. A corollary to 8118’s statement that one could not heal the dead was that you couldn’t kill them, either. But dissipation was sufficient for the group’s needs.
They had just reached their goal at the bottom of the stairs when Arden let out a blood curdling scream, grasped at both sides of his head, and dropped down to his knees. Just like that, the link that had bound them together was torn asunder.
The Force is not stronger here, the voice observed with disdain. It is simply chaos. Still, you must ensure they reach their goal!
“Eight One! Grab him and get him up the stairs! Seven Five, suppressive fire and we retreat up the stairs!” the colonel barked.
The 6430 and his second turned on their heels and walked backwards up the stairs as their weapons spit red torrents of blaster energy out in all directions. The younger medic helped Arden to his feet, the elder putting his arm around the man’s armored shoulders as they both quickly climbed the series of steps into the building.
“We need to get to the throne room!” Colonel 6430 shouted over the whine of their blasters as they crossed the threshold into the tower. “That’s where Selika is!”
“There!” Eiko said, pointing towards an arched door at the far end of the small lobby area they found themselves in. “That leads to the utility lift. We used it when we were evacuating the tower after Horizons, gives us access directly to the upper level.”
“Go!” Nora yelled, directing the troopers to move.
Arden was slowly regaining his senses, waving away 8118’s assistance as he moved more steadily with every step. Eiko reached the door first, stabbing at the control panel that was integrated into the patterned stonework of the wall, as 7579 and Nora joined him. The sound of screeching metal filled the room as the doors of the corroded lift ground opened to reveal the darkened interior.
“That means you, too, Colonel!” Nora barked.
“Afraid I can’t do that, my lord,” 6430 yelled back. “Somebody’s got to hold here, and it’s going to be me. Now go!”
The Colonel spared a glance behind him as he continued to discharge his weapon at a rapid pace. He saw Nora nod as the others that he had led here piled into the lift and the doors began to crawl closed. Turning back to the entryway, he saw that the indicator on his weapon was showing an overheat just as the weapon went quiet in his hands. He dropped the now-useless rifle and moved to pull his sidearm from its holster.
Before he could complete the motion, one of the wraiths was upon him. The creature’s clawed hand ripped through his armor and into his chest like a lightsaber, tearing a hole in his abdomen. The force of the blow spun him around, and he dropped to the ground in a heap as he coughed blood into his helmet. The creature’s distorted face filled most of his vision, its nightmare features twisted into a dark smile. But beyond it he could see the doors of the lift about to close. Time almost seemed to slow down as the soldier could feel the life draining out of him, but he still had enough energy to shift his hand down to his belt.
Oh, well played. You have been quite the useful tool.
His fingers closing around the thermal detonator on his belt, Colonel DT-6430 tumbed the device’s deadman activator switch. Releasing the weapon, the spherical explosive dropped to the ground and rolled a few feet before detonating, ripping apart the wraiths that had poured into the chamber along with a soldier’s smile of satisfaction.
Explosions ripped through Alaris’s mind and screams poured out of his mouth. Blood dripped from every hole in his head. He felt his death incoming, and realized that his own inevitability was to become a source of power from which Chi Long could draw enough energy to rip another hole between the prime realm and the Ethereal Realm.
The violence of the dark side and the portal screamed through the room and was only interrupted by a sharp ding.
Faethor swung his head around and dropped his attention on Alaris. He blinked as a sharp light split the doors of a hidden utility lift tucked away in the side of the chamber. “What is this?!” he demanded of no one in particular.
Nora, Arden, Eiko, and the two Death Troopers all ran into the room, weapons drawn and ready for a battle. They all paused and glanced around at the chaos in the throne room.
“A distraction!” Jonaleth yelled quickly before firing a long burst of Force lightning across the room and coursing through Faelika’s body. The possessed body screamed in agony.
Alaris collapsed to the ground and looked up at Jonaleth. “You mean gasp to tell me wheeze that there cough wass a turbolift we could have used?”
“Oh no,” Jonaleth let his stream of electricity continue to ravage Selika’s body. “You see, I still need you tired and weak.” The stream stopped and the old Kunian looked down at Alaris. “It’s quite simple you see.”
Alaris cut him off. “Yeah, yeah, possess me and cross back through the portal. I figured it out pretty quick.” He exhaled sharply. “Honestly, Jonaleth, for someone who’s been sulking around for 100 years, you really haven’t changed much.”
“You dare?!” the Isradia patriarch raised to his full height and glared down at the twi’lek.
“Oh, that’s right. You don’t like it when people use your first name. You really are too much, Jonaleth.” Alaris pulled himself up onto his knees and stared up at him.
Nora called out to her former master, “What is even going on in here anymore?”
Alaris struggled to call back, his lungs still screaming in agony. “A triple-sike.”
In a rage, Isradia threw his near corporeal self headlong at Alaris, attempting to overpower him the way Chi Long had Selika. For the second time in a matter of minutes, Alaris felt like his life was over. He felt Jonaleth at the edge of his mind, and then suddenly the invader was shunted away by some unknown force.
The faux-Anzat tried again and again, only to meet the same result. Alaris could feel another mind near his, protecting both the twi’lek and itself from this invasion. A mind much older than Jonaleth Isradia. A familiar mind.
Faelika cackled from the stairs leading to the throne. “Again, you are a fool.” He pulled himself up to a sitting position. “You think Alaris alone would be enough power to draw upon?”
“Now, if you will excuse me.” He staggered to Selika’s feet and crawled up the stairs toward the rip between worlds.
The anger that was Jonaleth Isradia screamed across the room. “NO. If I can’t leave this damn place, then neither will you!” He raised his hands to the sky and the dark side coalesced above him in a malevolent vortex. A violent surge of energy climbed up through the tower itself and the typhoon of hatred blasted a black-violet beam of malice toward the portal.
He spun around in a flourish and scurried from the room with speed. Jonaleth didn’t even know what kind of power he had unleashed and didn’t want to stick around to find out.
Alaris looked up from the ground to see Selika climbing the stair belabored. He reached out with the Force and he could visualize the tendrils erupting from his hand to grab the Dread Lord’s legs. Faethor’s already sluggish climbing was further encumbered, but he was still crawling his way up toward his freedom.
“Help me!” Alaris screamed at the other arrivals.
With an almost comical realization that they weren’t just an audience, Nora, Eiko, and Arden all joined Alaris in reaching out to pull the Dark Lord of the Sith away from the swirling miasma. The portal began to fluctuate from the power being thrown at it by Jonaleth’s cyclone and even though the storm was fading due to a lack of continued catalyst, the portal still wavered and flickered.
Still Faethor crawled and still the Plagueians pulled. Faelika finally crossed his arm and head through the threshold and Alaris screamed out in horror at the realization that they may have just unleashed Chi Long on an unsuspecting Brotherhood.
You know, you could just ask me for help. The familiar voice in his head was as snarky as it had been when it was previously there all those years ago.
“Yes. Please,” Alaris begged aloud, but softly enough to keep it to himself.
The twi’lek felt a massive surge in the dark side flow into him and he pulled himself upright. He maneuvered his fingers as if he were wrapping them around Selika’s legs and pulled with everything he could. The portal flitted and fizzled and then collapsed in a brilliant light.
Alaris collapsed on his back, the same as the other Plagueians. 8118 and 7579 helped Eiko and Arden to their feet. Nora pulled herself up and ran over to Alaris. “Are you alright, Master?”
Alaris shook his head. “No. I failed.”
From across the chamber, a collapsed Selika called out. “Not in the way you think you did.”
Each of the other Plagueians raised their weapons towards their Dread Lord, even Alaris weakly raising a hand to call on the Force if need be.
“Are you you?” Arden demanded.
“I’m me again, yes,” Selika answered weakly. “Single occupancy only, no uninvited guests.”
“And Chi?” Alaris asked coldly, his voice made raspy from his screams.
“He’s gone,” Selika said, trailing off.
“Gone where, exactly?” Eiko questioned.
“I think,” Selika said weakly, “I think he got out.”
“A problem for another day, then,” Nora said matter of factly. “At least he’s not here now.”
Selika shook her head, knowing that Nora didn’t truly understand the scale of the “problem for another day” that Faethor could represent. But, she was right at least. He was no longer here to threaten them now. But, with that being the case, she could feel something else in the city surrounding them.
“Do you feel that?” Selika asked. “The wraiths are no longer calm.”
Selika could see the others stretching out with their senses to feel what she had. The wraiths that filled the city had become a roiling, frothing mass of rage. Millions of voices screaming within the Force, and all of them calling out for blood.
“I think we’re going to have to call in our reinforcements now,” Arden realized.
“Agreed, it’s the only way we’re going to get out of this place with our limbs all attached,” Eiko observed, recalling what they had all heard happen to their walker crew.
“How many?” 7579 asked as she readied her long range comm, now the ranking officer present.
Selika considered the army of wraiths between themselves and their army. Untold millions of them in every direction, a senseless, mindless mass now that Faethor was no longer here to control them. It would likely take artillery fire just to start to blast a path through them all, and overwhelming force to hold it.
“All of them,” she answered.
Combat Operations Center Fortress of the Unchained The Ethereal Realm
“There, do you see it?” Ilmi Wu’s quiet voice spoke as they pointed to a section of the tactical holo display.
Vanda Emarr moved from where she stood near the communications systems to get a better look at the display table. The glowing holo showed a representation of the entire battlefield stretching from the Fortress all the way back to the echo of Eos City and the Brotherhood’s portal beyond.
“What do you see?” she asked of the Kaminoan.
“The Plagueian lines are thinning, with Taldryan and Naga Sadow on either side having to move to fill the gap,” they said.
Emarr looked more closely and saw the same. The army of Plagueis was repositioning itself away from the main battle line and heading east. And east was where…
“The tar pit,” Emarr said with a smirk. “They fell into it.”
“Of course they did,” Wu agreed. “It was only a matter of time. The reflection of their old throneworld was going to be a curiosity they would find irresistible. And like a sarlacc, the creatures waiting within would pull them down into their maw.”
“So that’s one of the seven Clan armies off the table,” Emarr mused with satisfaction.
“Will it be enough? The Brotherhood is still making slow, if steady, progress across the plains,” Wu wondered with uncertainty.
“It doesn’t matter if they are able to break through, only when,” Emarr explained. “The Father simply needs time to fulfill his true goal. By removing themselves from the true battle, Clan Plagueis’s failure just might have given him exactly what he requires.”