Sidious could feel himself flushing from head to toe. Having stepped out of fears shadow long ago, it wasn’t fear itself that gave him pause, but the way this vision had phrased the comment. He composed himself quickly and mentally ran through multiple responses and outcomes this encounter would require or take.
“Of course I have…. Bane.” Deciding not to address the apparition with title, he continued. “The tale, as you put it, has no ending however.”
The specter of Bane threw its head back and issued forth a raucous laughter, booming round the room like violent cracks of thunder. “Of course it does. Every tale does. Even yours.” He finished with deliberate cadence on the final, each word issued forth in a measured, concerted effort.
Not backing down, Sidious adopted a stoic expression and drew upon the depths of the dark side. “What a pitiful ruse this Sith order has been in the past, you are nothing more than a reminder of the very weakness that has plagued its vision like a contagion.” He felt his anger rise with the words, adding emphasis to his ire and elongating the cadence with which he spoke. Working himself into a mass of seething, refined anger, a practice he had mastered long ago, he continued, “Cowardice, ignorance, petulance…these are the weaknesses with which I inherit title.” He spat the words out emphatically, asserting his disdain. “The Sith will be reborn!” He cackled, his own voice echoing throughout the room.
“Your ambition will be rewarded, Sidious, as is due. It is that same ambition that holds your senses in tether. It blinds you. You embody the Dark side of the force, of that there can be no doubt, but you do not listen to it, see it, living, right in front of you.” Bane took on an almost considerate expression, however his tone did not waver. “The Jedi weren’t the only ones interested in prophesy.” Sidious had not expected that, composing himself to prepare for battle, this was an avenue he hadn’t anticipated. “It speaks to the restoration of the balance. There cannot be one side without the other, or nothing will remain, you must see that.”
“I see that which suits my purposes. I see that which can be used to suit the Dark Side, and nothing more, because there is only the Dark Side, there is only the Sith!” Sidious shot back venomously.
“You fool, you bring the Sith itself to its very knees to bow before you Darth Sidious, the cunning?” Bane shot back in a frothing anger of his own, his features growing proportionally larger, his voice, deeper.
“I. AM. THE. SITH!” Sidious barked back quickly, his eyes flaring yellow. Small arcs of lightning began to dance across his fingertips. Instantly the form of Bane vanished in a split-second swirl of the same black fog that had pronounced his arrival. Sidious was at the apex of his anger, having never gone further than this point in the specific emotion without exacting devastation. At the precise moment he acknowledged that summit he felt his throat pinch closed, cutting off his breath. His eyes widened immediately upon recognition of what was happening but was only becoming even more enraged for lack of a visual target. Several voices assailed him in that moment. Some he knew, most he didn’t. “Darth Sidious the cunning,” one all but whispered in heavily accented basic. “Master of Sith sorcery,” came another higher pitched female voice, spoken slowly and dripping with disdain. “Made himself master of Sith geomancy,” one spoke in unmistakable Twi’Leki. “And Sith alchemy, a master of the craft too?” it was the voice of his own master, the Muun asked incredulously. The voices stopped abruptly, and a moment of silence hung thickly in the air before the regulated breathing of his own apprentice was heard. “Yet he exposes his fear.” Vader’s voice boomed through the room. “Your thoughts betray you, or…” he trailed off momentarily, as if in thought, “yes” he continued “you truly have become your own prophecy.” Vader relayed. Sidious, clutching desperately at his throat and gasping for air tried in vain to comprehend his meaning. “You now find yourself in a position of fear, my master. Fear of losing your power. You fear me as well…. yes…. I sense it, why would Darth Sidious the cunning fear his apprentice?” Vader trailed off again, deliberating internally on the very thing Sidious had indeed foreseen. Knowing Vader would never expend the power and energy necessary to utter laughter, it came as a shock to hear it now, the annunciator making it even that much more unsettling. “Your fears are allayed correctly. Yes, I will destroy you and take up my rightful place as master.” Vader cut himself off and Sidious could only hear the regulated breathing for a moment. “There is more isn’t there…. you fear…. the Togruta!”
Sidious had heard enough, calling on the Force he released himself from the choke hold and arced lightning to every surface and corner of the room. “NO…NO….NO!!” He repeated, the depth of his voice decrying his unwillingness to surrender himself any further to these visions and he began reciting the lines that were his mental trigger to pull himself from his meditations. He prepared to pick his mortal form off the floor in the chamber under the former Jedi temple as he reached the final word to break the trance. Nothing happened. The black mist simply slowed its cyclonic activity to a mere fraction of its speed. For a tension riddled moment the silence continued before the entire room was in a rush of motion. The ensconced blackness rushed straight at him and transformed itself into the form of Vader who grabbed quickly for Sidious’ windpipe. Feeling the gauntleted hand surround his throat and begin to crush all vital organs and spine alike, he made one more effort to arc the lightning from his fingertips into the helmed visage of his apprentice but could only adopt a look of absolute terror as the snapping electricity rebounded harmlessly off the dark dome. “And now, Sidious……You will die.” Vader finished, speaking the last slowly between breaths. At once, Vader brought his other hand out of nowhere and joined his engaged hand at Sidious’ neck, violently twisting in opposite directions. The body of Sidious dropped to the floor immediately.
Emperor Palpatine awoke with a start, completely unaware of his bearings. His face pressed into a mass of dust and aged debris; he coughed a cloud of the former into the blackness of the space before him. He took a moment to compose his mind asserting himself of his current reality and pushed himself up to his knees. Breathing in a full gulp of stale air, he knew without hesitation, then, that he was in the small chamber of the Sith temple under his renovated residence on Coruscant. He began to chuckle to himself as he pushed off his knees and stood up on his feet. The chuckle became an audible cackle. ‘Of course I’ve seen my death again, I always do’ he thought… “As for the rest” he paused briefly “I now have the answers I seek.” He spoke out loud for his ears alone. The burst cackle of laughter turned into a maniacal cacophony as he disappeared into the darkness for the ascending stone steps, echoing off every surface.
✦
The sounds of the morass washed over Ahsoka like warm waves of an elongated embrace. What was sparse originally was now mingled together in a nonstop orchestra, unobstructed, unhindered, a serenade to life itself. Creatures she didn’t know the names of sang to the vibrancy of their own surroundings, each one reacting to the song in a way that added their voice to the opera. Even the fauna that wouldn’t add a voice made their presence known as the rustling of fallen leaves and dead branches would attest. The Gnarlroot trees could almost be heard drinking in the vast amounts of water they needed to sustain themselves through massive root entanglements. The only sound out of place was Kowani constantly slapping at herself in vain attempts to catch the various insects that seemed to love only her off guard. “You’re only making it worse.” Ahsoka commented, not quite sure how that would be taken.
“If this keeps up Ahsoka, I’ll have no choice but to unholster this blaster and send them all to hell.” Kowani replied. “Why only me? You aren’t getting eaten alive?”
“The mysteries of the Force Ani.”
“And you’re not even sweating? How are you not sweating? I look like I fell in the bog and you’re not even sweating?” Kowani said, in obvious exasperation.
“The Force works in countless ways Ani, I can….” Ahsoka caught herself. This dilemma again. ‘She needs you Ahsoka, let go of the failures from the past.’ She told herself. “I can show you what that means if you’d like to learn.” There, she said it. And she meant it, truly meant it.
Ahsoka pulled up and turned to her, seeing the look on Kowani’s face, “You are just as much a force user as I am, degrees of severity are the only difference, and each individual has their own strengths and weaknesses.” She took Kowani’s hands in hers and prompted her to close her eyes. “They see precisely what you present them and are doing nothing more than responding to their own instincts.”
Kowani listened intently and couldn’t disagree with the basics of nature but was waiting more intently for the point.
“Present yourself as something to which they are not instinctually attracted. It is that simple.” Ahsoka said matter of fact. “Manifest it, bring it to you as it is fact. Believe it, then believe you can. It will take time as I’ll need to teach you meditation.” She smiled gently and turned back around, heading for the lights. “See, the insects aren’t biting you anymore.” She finished. Kowani stood in place for a second more realizing that Ahsoka was indeed right.
Kowani’s fascination with Ahsoka’s statements continued to resonate as they commenced their trek, her attention focused almost completely internally. Her mind focused clearly on the insects that weren’t even coming close to her anymore, or the oppressive humidity that, both, plagued her earlier. Had she done that? If so, how? She turned her attention to the sights which were becoming repetitive, massive, gnarled roots, ever-present mist and fog hovering at various levels and the nondescript shadows fleeting just beyond eyesight. She focused on the sounds, specifically her own. How her footfalls would make an occasional crunch on decaying material she couldn’t see through the lower clinging fog carpet, and how Ahsoka seemed to miss those same materials with her own steps, not making a sound at all. She felt a bead of sweat form again on her forehead and slowed her pace noticing that she hadn’t had that issue either since Ahsoka mentioned the insects. It was then she felt the sting and accompanying itch of a bite on the back of her neck and with that understood Ahsoka’s meaning. She concentrated again on the heat and itching and found her sensory perception of their surroundings obscure. The sounds faded. The sights only peripheral. Her head down, eyes focused on her hands, she ran right into Ahsoka whom had abruptly stopped.
“We are here.” Ahsoka said with a chuckle.
After issuing forth a short apology, Kowani stepped to Ahsoka’s side and hesitantly took in the surroundings. The lights they had been obediently following had again stopped and returned to a slowly swirling state above a small clearing in the middle of four of the Gnarlroots. She could see a small domed structure tucked closely into the furthest root mass, flickering light seen through small circular openings danced slightly and a thin line of smoke escaped from a short stack at its top. Movement caught her attention at what had to be the entrance, a small, long-eared, green skinned figure appeared.
Ahsoka shot forward with startling speed, taking Kowani by surprise, closing the gap between them and the green figure in a matter of seconds. She dropped to her knees and slid to a stop before the figure, throwing her hands around it just as quickly.
“Master!” Ahsoka said, in what Kowani suspected were tears of joy, as she came to stop beside the embrace. She simply took in the sight. The figure was shorter than she had first suspected, deep furrowed wrinkles horizontally spanned a sloping forehead, unkempt and stringy gray hair laureled his head ending at the base of long pointed ears. A tattered tan robe hugged the small body that leaned heavily on a short wooden stick. His eyes closed and free arm outstretched to reciprocate Ahsoka’s emotionally charged caress. It was then, seeing them share their moment, Kowani understood what Ahsoka had said upon entering the upper atmosphere. She was home.
“Warm my heart is to see you young one. But a woman you have become.” He said opening wide eyes set upon a short little nose, a throaty but modulated voice, the likes of which Kowani had never heard before.
“Master, it is very good to see you well.” Ahsoka said in a delicate tone, wiping several tears from her eyes with the back of her hand. She held his gaze a moment longer, noting the sorrow that lay beneath them but also recognizing elation in them as well. Something she hadn’t seen on his face since well before the Clone Wars.
“A friend you have brought, yes?” Yoda said fixing his gaze on Kowani.
“Kowani Y’mmat meet Jedi Grand Master Yoda.” Ahsoka said in return.
Kowani was speechless. She had heard stories, everyone had, but most of them had been dismissed as legend, from a time long since passed. Yet before her, stood a very real being, and not at all what she was expecting. ‘What exactly was I expecting,’ she questioned herself. She had decided sometime into her assignment on Vyndal that expectations had no place in the mission, however, this was well outside any loosely briefed parameters that had been set. Some reports had labeled the Jedi as terrorists, saboteurs, and assassins, looking to bring down the republic. More so to the contrary was the prevailing diatribe, especially with the Empire revoking certain liberties in the name of peace. It was a single thought that sealed Kowani’s opinion. She trusted Ahsoka. However crazy the path had been or will be, she was unwilling to turn her back to that single sentiment.
“Not sure what to think do you?” Yoda asked Kowani soothingly. Ahsoka, noting his ability to ask a multitude of questions in a single phrase, let loose a slight laugh in hindsight. “Exhausted you both look, come, eat, and rest. Wait our discussions can.” Yoda turned and shuffled his way back into his hovel. Kowani couldn’t speak, her eyes still trained on the spot he had occupied.
“Ani, are you ok?” Ahsoka asked, looking up at her.
She turned to look at Ahsoka, tears welling up, threatening to stream down her face. “Ahsoka…. I can’t explain it. So much sorrow, yet so full of warmth and life. I could feel him, sense him. I……. I never had an opinion because it, the Jedi, always seemed so……so far away.” She stammered, unable to couple the feelings that were uncovered within her with an intelligible description of them in the moment Yoda had reached out to her. “There is a fear I can’t explain that follows that same path.”
“The ways of the force can be both intricate and straightforward, immense, and microscopic, comprehendible, and unknowable, sometimes simultaneously. There is much to be gained but, equally, much that can also be lost.” Ahsoka spoke comfortingly and from the heart. “The only fear I can attest to is that you cannot unlearn what you have learned when it comes to specific things, however Ani, we are both here to unlearn certain things that we both knew were true.” She paused to assure herself that came out right.
“I’m not afraid of one thing.” Ani interjected.
“What’s that?”
“Telling you I have no idea what any of that meant.” She finished laughing.
Ahsoka, shaking her head and laughing along, put her hand on Kowani’s shoulder turning her toward the doorway. “Master Yoda is right you know; I can’t remember the last time I ate anything.” They both laughed again as they ducked their heads and entered the hovel.
Vader stared unwaveringly out of the Devastator’s transparisteel view port at the stars beyond the planet, incensed at having to play these cat and mouse games across the galaxy but infuriated at the very idea that his mouse had led him here, to this planet. Why? Had that captain known that Vader, of all Imperial retinue, would be the one to chase him down? Each time he was certain he had buried Anakin Skywalker; some new instrument would slash open an old wound and begin the bleeding yet again. Another trial beset by his master perhaps. He dismissed that immediately. The old fool was simply using him to marshal and cowe the denizens of the galaxy. So why then, why Tatooine? Coincidence was only employed where a lack of wisdom resides, and they could not have known they were tracked so why not jump back into hyperspace? No, there was purpose here. They were here for a reason. A reason he was determined to learn. He spun his head to address the small cluster of uniformed officers clamoring over display screens in the command decks tactical pit.
“General Uzael, what has your team discovered on the planet’s surface?” He needed answers.
“My Lord, the team has ascertained that droids were aboard the pod and are following leads as to their whereabouts.” Uzael replied quickly.
He turned his view to the stars again and thought that through, piecing together all the details that led him to this point, beginning with their decant from hyperspace at Scarif. He needed those plans, personally, just as badly as the Imperial cadre deemed them important. He turned slightly, taking the whole of the planet into full view, the swirling shades of sullen browns and angry reds making him instinctively reach to scratch at the phantom itching from sand on his forearm. How he yearned to erase it from the galaxy, his own ideas for a suitable weapons test of the Death Star taking shape. Deciding the view was only reigniting the boiling rage within him, he turned to leave the command deck tapping his helmet as he passed the tactical pit, cuing its staff to keep him apprised via commlink. He concentrated on suppressing his anger, it would not do for him to scour logic for the answers he required with that emotion at the forefront. The doorway to the turbolift closed behind him with a hiss as he folded his arms across his chest, mentally scrubbing away the phantom itching the view from the command deck had elicited. The confined space of the lift resonating in a medley of echoes sourced by his inhalations and subsequent exhalations. The sounds had a calming effect in a way he hadn’t anticipated; his mind was able to reach out to a multitude of issues his subconscious was working through. This incident was only a piece of some mosaic that was forming to thwart his master’s Empire and, by extension, his as well. ‘Yes,’ he assured himself, ‘there is indeed a difference’ finishing his thought. The doorway opened again with another hiss evacuating the sonorous echo that held Vader in his trance of thought, his mind refocused immediately as he took off down the long gray hall with enormous strides.
His internal comm chiming, he tapped his left wrist, “What is it General?” he spoke quickly, keeping pace with his footfalls.
“Our team has traced the droids, there were in fact two of them, to a local band of regional scavengers. Captain Dendarren is currently contact tracing as the droids are no longer in their possession my Lord.” General Uzael said, clearly but also quickly.
Vader slowed his pace, “Obtain the information needed to proceed, then kill them all. No loose ends General. No Imperial involvement should be recognized.” He tasked without hesitation.
“Understood Lord Vader.” came the reply and the connection promptly ended.
His anger slowly rising again, he picked up his pace, the main hanger his destination. ‘Chasing droids around this blasted planet is such a monumental waste of time’ he thought, again his mind committed to the less tedious strategy of just eliminating the sphere from the galaxy. In answer to the mental distractions, he pulled deeply from the force while maintaining his pace, the hanger bay looming just ahead. Letting the dark side energies flow through his body, both organic and non, he would be better situated to piece this ‘mosaic’ together. Vader considered the incident on Toprawa as well as the prison break on the Death Star, both of which hinged upon plans, readouts and schematics for the Death Star itself or components of it. This brought the importance of the Rebel assault on Scarif to the forefront, a move that was strategic suicide but was carried out, nonetheless. All of them involving the cruiser resting before him as he cleared the entrance to the hangar. He came to a full stop before the bow of the vessel and gazed at the craft, his only impression being how unassuming it looked, his vision aperture alerted him to figures approaching.
“The comm log was purged and the navigation computer was compromised.” Vader’s deep baritone voice stated before he turned to face them, a gray uniformed officer and a white uniformed ISB tech.
“Yes, my Lord, shortly after the main reactor was taken offline, I am afraid.” Returned the ISB tech.
“Of course it was.” Said Vader, returning a glance at the ship. He turned to face the officer. “Execute the prisoners…. immediately.”
“The Princess?” asked the officer.
Vader thought that through for a moment. “No lieutenant” he said hesitantly, “she is to be kept isolated until I give you further orders.” Her fate was not his to decide.
“Understood Lord Vader.”
“And the ship?” asked the tech.
“Follow through with my initial order and send the distress signal.” Although he certainly would like to slag it. The comm signaled again with a chime, and he turned away from the pair before him. They in turn dismissed themselves.
“General?” His voice sharp.
“My Lord, the trail has gone cold, they were traced to a moisture farmstead in the southern reaches, but the droids are no longer there.” General Uzael reported.
“Where in the southern reaches.” Vader insisted more than asked.
“Great Chott in the Jundland Wastes.”
Of course it was. He didn’t need any more information. Another instrument finding its mark, exposing an old wound. ‘Damn this planet’ he swore to himself. He let out a low, rough rumble and felt the suppressed anger, the boiling rage and maniacal intensity of his fury explode through him and fill the entirety of the hangar. The hydraulic struts on the cruiser’s fore landing gear began to snap and twist as the deck of the hangar floor started shaking and vibrating. Ear splitting cracks echoed off the walls as hull plating from several sections of the starboard side of the cruiser were sheared from their joints sending several storm troopers sprawling in all directions to escape both the plates and resultant shrapnel. Knowing full well he was responsible, Vader caught himself from losing control and settled himself as best he could. Turning for the hangar bay doorway, he realized Uzael was still connected via active link. “Destroy the residence, burn the farm and eliminate all occupants.” He ordered without a thought. “Lock down the port cities, route Mos Espa’s garrison to Mos Eisley and prepare for orbital bombardment.” He finished and aborted the connection, not waiting for confirmation. With renewed vigor he motioned for the deck commander. The tight capped officer sped over from his station.
“My Lord?” He asked.
“Commander get this wreck off my ship,” he ordered with a wave of his hand.
“At once Lord Vader.” He said a little too loudly, heel turned and raced off back to his station. The soundless process slid the heavily damaged cruiser through the magnetic field and into the vacuum of space. Glad to be rid of the troublesome ship, he turned and left the bay. Quickening his pace to get back up to the command deck, intent on watching the planet burn from the view port to satiate his anger. A nondescript lurch caught his attention as the comm chimed in yet again. “This had better be important.” Vader demanded, his anger reigniting.
“My Lord,” came the voice of General Uzael in a wavering voice. “You disconnected before I could tell you, we’ve been ordered to deliver the prisoners to the battle station at once.” Vader came to a full stop, but Uzael wasn’t finished. “And have just made the jump to hyperspace.”