Thunder rolls in the distance, the sound as ominous and foreboding as the planet’s inhabitants.
The jungle almost seems to turn away from constant downpour in a vain effort to allow the undergrowth to dry as various creatures in its depths slink away to find shelter from the storm.
On the outer fringe, however, two sentient beings stand side by side, utterly ignoring the downpour in favor of giving their full attention to the other.
One, a disciple to the blade while the other, a disciple to the Force.
The Force around them flows in pulsating waves, weaving an invisible, complex pattern that would leave any Sith or Jedi in awe. The Force seems to adore them in particular.
A bundle in the Warrior’s arms, somehow protected from the rain’s onslaught, moves slightly, drawing their attention.
“Shush my little one, be still,” the Warrior murmurs, not caring that the rain is mixing with her tears.
The Inquisitor is strangely sympathetic and almost hesitant. “Are you sure, Lord Wrath? I can take him somewhere safe, but I cannot promise you will see him again.”
“I am as sure as I will ever be, Imperius. I can’t let the Emperor know about my son. Then, I would truly lose him.
I couldn’t bear to force him to live our lifestyle,” the Wrath cuts herself off with a choked laugh, the sound upsetting the child in her arms,
her normally gray-blue eyes flecked with yellow in her grief.
The Force around her swells in an insistent demand to be released, to destroy the cause of such pain.
Before she hands her child to the Master of the Force, she whispers silently in his ear, “I will destroy the Emperor, my little one, I promise you.”
Her hands, stained with the blood of a thousand lives (innocent and guilty) handles the babe with utmost care unheard of from the Sith as she gives her child up.
Darth Imperius takes the baby, and she turns to walk away, deciding that a quick separation would be best. However, before she gets far, she turns away to face the Sith behind her.
“What is the name I’ll be writing on his note?”
The Wrath smiles, the water pouring off her giving her a smaller appearance. “Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan Kenobi.”
Theron Shan knows he is a workaholic. From slicing to updates to reports from across the galaxy, early signs of age were appearing in his stature and under his eyes.
Despite it all, however, she kept him smiling throughout it all. Who would have guessed that a Sith would be optimistic? (Their nightly rendezvous certainly helped him to unwind, to relax.)
Theron glances at his list of potential recruits, allies, and associates, and he cannot help but groan. It was all endless.
Their Alliance has grown significantly since Arcann’s defeat, and while it was not as powerful as the Sith Empire had been or as numerous as the Republic,
it was most definitely a force to be reckoned with. Theron grins at the joke hidden within the thought. Lana glance is inquisitive, “Dare I ask what has you so amused?”
“Wouldn’t you agree, Lana, that the Commander is a Force to be reckoned with?”
Lana smiles, though she says, “I’ll never understand your sense of humor, Theron.”
The Commander chooses that moment to enter the room, her commanding presence capturing the attention of all in the War Room for a moment, although she remains undaunted.
Theron puts down his list as the Commander walks over to greet him and Lana. “Anything drastic that can destroy the galaxy that requires my complete attention this morning?”
“So far, we don’t have too much intel on Senya and Arcann’s whereabouts, and it would seem that Vaylin and SCORPIO are more focused on chasing them down.
There are many rumors, most of them being false, although some leads are promising,” Lana begins, standing up to greet her fellow Sith.
Theron types quickly into the console to bring up a holographic projection of Ord Mantell.
“We know for a fact that Senya and her separatist Knights of Zakuul faced Vaylin and her forces on Ord Mantell. The Knights...they didn’t make it through the battle.
Arcann was not seen during the battle and it looks like Senya did survive. That is the only concrete lead we have,” Theron finishes for her.
The Commander shakes her head, a grimace adorning her pale features, “It’s not worth going into, especially if it’ll bring Vaylin’s attentions back to us.
The longer her focus is away from us, the longer we can build up our defenses and our military,” a smile flits across her lips in amusement, “Sorry, Senya.”
Lana shakes her head with a smile. “I have a list compiled for you on all of the base’s notable activities, if you wish to peruse it now. It’s measurable, but I’ve condensed it the best I can.”
The former Sith’s reaction is one of reluctance, and she spares a glance toward the Force Enclave.
Theron did not inherit his family’s impressive Force sensitivity, nor did he inherit their understanding of the mysterious power.
However, he did boast a certain empathy toward those closest to him, and he honestly doubted that one would need any measure of empathy or mystical powers to feel the unease around her.
Perhaps it had something to do with Valkorion’s disappearance, or possibly some “disturbance in the Force” as she calls it,
but it would not be his problem until she undoubtedly told him or if it hindered her ability to lead.
However, that didn’t mean he could not protect her from as much as he could, even if it was the proverbial (or even literal) weight of the galaxy on her shoulders.
“Actually, before you start, Commander, Sana-Rae had asked if you would show the Jedi and Sith defectors how a gray Force user meditates.
It could help unite them further and get past their prejudices. I’ll get started up here.”
The Commander nods, her relief showing in her eyes only. “I suppose she has been asking for a while now. I’ll be back in an hour,” she replies.
Lana nods, “We will see you soon, Commander,” and when the Commander is out of earshot, “At least you were subtle about it, Theron.”
Theron offers her an easy grin, “Well, she hasn’t exactly slept since you thawed her out. Besides, she takes on too much already.”
The blonde Sith frowns and lowers her voice, “Did she seem odd to you,” she waits for Theron’s nod before continuing, “I wonder if it is related to the disturbance I felt in the Force.
It’s faint, but it’s….there. Somewhere. Odessen’s balance makes it difficult to pinpoint the exact location.”
Theron’s focus is drawn by the scene forming behind Lana Beniko as several Alliance soldiers rush up to him and his counterpart. “I think we might find out here very soon, Lana.”
Lana’s answering smile is exasperated, “I suppose it would be too much to ask for an incident free day in the Alliance.”
“Sirs, a ship crashed on the outer fringes of the forest.
It’s design doesn’t match anything we have seen in the galaxy before,” the Mirialan soldier salutes the pair crisply and speaks quickly, though his olive forehead shines with perspiration.
“Any survivors?” Theron prompts.
“Yes sir, two men who claim to be Jedi, but Master Sunze does not recognize them. Their names are Anakin Skywalker and Obi-Wan Kenobi.”