And of course, Jedi Knight Amberley Vail was well familiar with the Sith Lord, having battled the Empire for years before being dragged through time alongside the Invincible. She and Cain stared at each other for several seconds once the introductions were over, and for a moment Jonas worried they were going to draw their lightsabers and resume whatever ancient rivalry bound them together, such was the intensity of their gaze. Given the dark look Vaylin was giving the Jedi Knight, it was clear that Jonas wasn't the only one thinking of the possibility.
Fortunately, the two Force users broke eye contact before things could escalate.
"I hope that Perlia's hospitality has been satisfactory," said Darth Cain. "I am sure that there is much for us to discuss, but that shall have to wait. Me and my apprentice have just come back from a long journey, and there is a lot for us to do before we can attend to diplomacy's niceties."
None of the Senators objected, despite having just been told that they would need to wait a bit longer still before finally being able to do what they'd come to the Outer Rim for. With a final glance and nod at the gathered crowd, Darth Cain followed his Prime Minister inside the luxury speeder waiting for him, accompanied by his apprentice and the droid which followed him everywhere – and which, according to the soldiers Jonas had interviewed, was apparently a killing machine in its own right. The moment the vehicle's door closed, hiding the Sith Lord from sight, Jonas felt himself breathing a little more easily.
Once the speeder left, the crowd began to disperse, still under the watchful eye of the Sith troopers guarding the spaceport Jonas remained where he was standing, watching the vehicle disappear over the horizon while his heartbeat returned to a healthier speed.
Oh, yes. By the time he left Perlia, Jonas was certain he would have made his career, one way or another.
***
When Ky had told her they needed to leave Rattatak, Asajj had objected. Strongly. With a lot of pointed words, which may or may not have been shouted. They had been fighting their campaign against the warlords for months : the very idea of running away offended her on a deeply personal level. But, ultimately, she had seen where her Master was coming from. With the Hutt Cartels supporting their enemies, all they could achieve by staying and fighting was die. And while Asajj wasn't afraid of death, she was afraid of failure, and failing would bring a lot of other people down along with the two of them. People who trusted them, who believed in their cause of bringing an end to the constant fighting that had ravaged Rattatak for as long as anybody remembered.
So they had sent messages to their remaining allies telling them to go to ground, and started looking for a way off-world. It was a testament to the trust they'd built over the years that none of them accused the pair of planning to run away and abandon them, never to come back – though Asajj was sure at least some of them thought that to be the case.
Finding a ship had been their first challenge : very few people came to Rattatak, and for good reason. The war-world was an isolated backwater even by the standards of the Outer Rim, and had little to offer between unpalatable nutrient paste and bloodied warriors. Only a few merchants were desperate enough to make the trip there to trade supplies from off-world with the most influential warlords, and Ky and her no longer qualified as such.
In the end, they had decided to seize a ship by force. If the Cartels were willing to provide armaments to their enemies, then it was only fair that they would also sponsor their little expedition. As they had done many times before, the pair had infiltrated one of the military strongholds belonging to a warlord they knew to be in (thankfully metaphorical) bed with the Hutts. When the latest shipment of weapons had arrived, they had sneaked onboard and hidden until the ship had left the atmosphere, at which point they'd promptly seized control of the vessel.
Neither of them had known how to pilot that particular type of ship, however, and it had been such a pile of junk that they hadn't wanted to risk experimenting. So they had been forced to rely on the ship's auto-pilot to take them to its already programmed destination, which had turned out to be another Hutt-controlled planet. They'd needed to fight their way out after landing, go to ground, and seize another ship – this time one Ky could actually pilot.
Except, on their way to the hangar where their target was parked, they had crossed paths with a bunch of people in chains being dragged toward a cargo transport, which would take them to some Force-forsaken spice mine where they would work until they died and their bodies were dumped into the void.
Obviously, Asajj couldn't let that happen, so they had killed a bunch more slavers and freed the slaves. At which point they had needed a bigger ship than the one they'd planned to take, so they had stolen the cargo hauler instead – except it wasn't carrying enough fuel to take them to their destination, so they had needed to stop at the spice mine to refuel, and of course while they were there they might as well free the miners too …
Long story short, their trip to Perlia had ended up taking a lot more time than initially planned, and they had arrived with a couple hundred sentients packed in the cargo hauler, many of them needing medical attention. Fortunately, when they had finally arrived on Perlia (only to find that Darth Cain wasn't even there), the locals had been more than willing to help. Ky and her hadn't even needed to flash their lightsabers to be taken seriously : when they had come out of hyperspace, her Master had just called ahead and said that they were a pair of freedom fighters with a bunch of liberated slaves in tow, looking for a place to live.
Of course, because the Sith weren't morons and knew that there were no depths to which the Hutt Cartels wouldn't sink, there had still been a welcoming committee waiting for them planetside, with a pair of Sith Acolytes accompanying the troopers and Imperial Intelligence officers here to debrief them. Then they had shown their lightsabers, leading to a few very tense moments that Ky had thankfully managed to defuse.
They were lucky that the last Jedi to have come to Perlia had done so in peace. That, and the testimony of the former slaves they'd brought along, had bought them enough goodwill to be granted hospitality until the Lord of Terror had returned – which he now had, leading to their long-awaited audience with the Sovereign of Perlia.
The audience was taking place inside the Sith Temple. As they were escorted through its labyrinthine corridors, Asajj swore she could feel the place … looking at her. The best way to explain the sensation she could think of was that time Ky and her had gone to talk to one of Rattatak's warlord, and the man's pet, an absolutely gigantic furry beast, had looked at them with a mix of curiosity and hunger throughout the entire negotiations.
Basically, this place spooked her, and it wasn't helping her already fraught nerves. Before the Invincible had appeared over Perlia and thrown the galaxy into chaos, all she'd known of the Sith were the stories Ky had told her as cautionary tales against the dangers of giving in to emotion.
Eventually, they reached the audience chamber. The room was guarded by two scores of Sith soldiers, but Asajj barely spared them a glance before her attention was captured by the other end of the room.
Darth Cain was sitting on an elevated throne, surrounded by black stone carved with symbols that seemed to move in the corner of Asajj's vision. His apprentice stood at his left and down a few steps, on the same level as the combat droid who stood at his right. At the foot of the steps were a gaggle of people whom Asajj assumed were very important everywhere else.
"Ky Narec," said the Lord of Terror. "And Asajj Ventress. I bid you welcome to Perlia."
"Thank you, Lord Cain," replied Ky, bowing just enough to show respect without appearing subservient. If Darth Cain was displeased by it, he didn't show it, so Asajj followed her Master's lead.
"Now," said Cain, leaning back in his throne, somehow managing to look relaxed without sacrificing any dignity by seeming to slouch. "I understand that you have a … petition, you wished to bring to me ?"
Ky began to explain the situation and history of Rattatak. Over the course of the next few minutes, he gave a brief summary of the war-world's history, his own arrival there and the results of his efforts to bring an end to the constant conflicts (mentioning Asajj's part in it, which she did her best not to preen with pride at), and then, finally, the arrival of emissaries from the Hutts seeking to recruit an army from the planet to fight Darth Cain's Sith Army.
There was a moment of silence as the Sith Lord contemplated Ky's words. Then, he said :
"That is quite the tale, Knight Narec. It reminds me of … well. No matter. You wouldn't recognize the name, I don't think. But you are aware that your Order would not approve of you being here, aren't you ?"
"My Order …" Ky paused, visibly pained. "No. It is no longer mine. With the choices I have made, I can no longer call myself a Jedi in good conscience."
"Really ?" The Lord of Terror raised an eyebrow. "You come to Perlia with a ship full of liberated slaves, having spent years fighting a hopeless battle against a vastly superior foe, trying to bring peace to a world consumed by war. Trust me, to me, you are the very image of a Jedi. Well, apart from asking a Sith for help, I suppose."
"The Jedi Order is no longer the same as it was in your time, lord. I had no authority to intervene in the affairs of Rattatak."
"Oh, I am aware that the Order is no longer the one I fought against for so long," Darth Cain waved dismissively. "Back then, you would have been greeted back as a hero, and someone of your Padawan's strength would have been welcomed on Tython with open arms. These age limits the Order practices now baffle me, to be honest, but I suppose it is the privilege of the dominant galactic power to be as picky about recruits as you want."
The more Cain spoke, the more Asajj felt she would have really enjoyed the Jedi Order during the time of the Old Republic.
"Soon, Perlia will declare its independence from the Republic," the Sith Lord went on. "Once that happens, our war against the Cartels will continue. Based on what you have told me, Rattatak could make for a suitable next target of our efforts. Malden," he called out, and a blue-skinned Near-Human whose species Asajj didn't recognize stepped forward. "Debrief Knight Narec and Padawan Ventress, then start collecting information on the planet. We will discuss possible plans of action once the secession has been declared."
"Yes, my lord," the man who Asajj assumed was Cain's spymaster saluted.
"I expect we will speak again soon," the Sith Lord continued, a knowing smile appearing on his face. "The two of you will have to choose what path you wish to walk, and whether you dare to join ours."
And with that, their audience was over, and they followed Malden (who introduced himself as a member of the Chiss species, which meant nothing to both Ky and her) toward an office where he grilled them on everything they knew about Rattatak for what felt like hours. By the time he was satisfied and led them outside the Sith Temple, Asajj's head was pounding, and not just because of the building's ominous aura.
"Well," said Ky as they stood outside the temple's main gate. "That went better than expected."
Asajj had to stop herself from Force-pushing him down the steps and all the way to the road below.
***
The home of the Skywalker-Lars family on Perlia was modest, but comfortable. In this, it was typical of the prefabricated buildings which made up most of the growing settlement near the Sith Temple, where thousands of former slaves had taken refuge.
Combined with the more temperate climate, it was a massive improvement on the conditions in which Anakin had grown up. But, at the moment, the young Padawan was preoccupied by other things than his mother's living conditions : namely, the two new family members to whom she had introduced him when he'd come to eat dinner.
Obi-Wan had told Anakin to join his mom for the night while he and Master Plo Koon talked with Senator Donali about what had happened on Perlia during their absence. This was also the occasion to meet his new family members for the first time, as the rest of the Skywalker-Lars family had come from Tatooine aboard one of the regular Sith transports making the trip between the two planets.
His mom had cooked dinner for them all, combining recipes from their homeworld with local ones that used far more water than any Tatooinian dish not cooked for the Hutts would ever have used. In Anakin's opinion, the latter was much, much better, given that Perlia was a temperate world with more than enough arable land to feed its own population. But all of it was his mom's cooking, so he ate everything put on his plate with great appetite.
Anakin still felt awkward around the older man and his son. For as long as he remembered, he and his mom had been on their own on Tatooine : he'd had friends, yes, but family was a different matter entirely. For his entire time on Tatooine, his mother had been his only family member. After that, every other member of the Jedi Order was supposed to be his family, but the Order's attitude toward bonds and attachments meant that he'd struggled to really connect with anyone other than Obi-Wan – and even that had been a struggle until recently.
Now he had a father and a brother, and he didn't know how to deal with it. Cliegg and Owen were very nice.
Alright, part of that might be the fact Owen looked very impressed that his step-brother was a Jedi-in-training.
"You really fixed the Invincible's hyperdrive ?" He asked excitedly. Anakin nodded, and he went on : "How ? From what we heard, everyone thought it would take months, or years !"
"I am curious as well," said Cliegg. "Shmi said you were a good mechanic, but I didn't think anybody was that good."
Anakin opened his mouth to explain, then paused. He had already told what he had done to plenty of people : Obi-Wan, Master Plo Koon, Commodore Kasteen, the Jedi Council, and then Darth Cain himself. But he was suddenly realizing that all of them had at least a basic understanding of the Force and plenty of experience with it – even Commodore Kasteen, who wasn't Force-sensitive herself, had worked with Darth Cain for years.
"Hum," he started, thinking hard. "It was … basically, the Force doesn't want Cain to die, so it helped me fix the ship ?"
Everyone looked at him with dubious expressions, except for his mom, who had a smile of warm amusement as she said :
"Ani, dear. Can you elaborate on that ?"
He blushed, then did his best to put the experience of the ineffable into words. He wasn't sure whether he succeeded, but Owen and Cliegg seemed interested enough in what he told them.
After a few moments, the conversation switched to Anakin's experience on Savareen. Once he let slip that he had gone around the planet accompanied by Vaylin, everyone asked him what she was like – which didn't surprise Anakin. Darth Cain's Apprentice was Jabba's slayer and Tatooine's liberator, after all : even those who hadn't been slaves when the Sith had come to the planet had been freed from the oppression of the Hutts. Anakin was willing to bet there were very few people on Tatooine who hadn't dreamt about putting a blaster bolt through the slug's head.
Going around Savareen with Vaylin in tow had been a weird experience. It was obvious to Anakin that she wasn't used to being around people. Which made sense, given what he'd been told of her past : growing up in the clutches of one of the most powerful and evil Sith Lords to have ever existed couldn't have been easy, and that was the ex-slave talking.
Anakin had tried to make small talk with her, much to Obi-Wan's horror. Apparently, his Master was convinced Anakin couldn't be diplomatic – which was ridiculous. Every Sith acolyte and trooper they had met had been very polite and respectful to him, so clearly he could be diplomatic. For some reason, though, when he complained about that to his mom, she smiled, and he got the feeling she was restraining herself from laughing.
Once dinner and the conversation was over, Anakin called Obi-Wan's comlink. The older Jedi was still busy, and told Anakin to spend the night with his family and join him at the Sith Temple next morning.
As he laid down on the bed his mom had prepared for him, Anakin's mind wandered. A lot had happened since he'd left Coruscant, and there was a part of him that still couldn't quite accept that he wasn't dreaming. Jabba's death, Tatooine's liberation, the return of the Sith, being reunited with his mom, helping repair the Invincible's hyperdrive … from time to time, he worried that he was going to wake up back in the Jedi Temple, and none of that would have happened.
But only sometimes. He'd had similar dreams after leaving Tatooine, where he had dreamt that he was still working in Watto's shop, had never met Master Qui-Gon – never met Padmé.
That was another thing on his mind. Padmé was here, on Perlia. He had only caught a glimpse of her since returning to the planet, but that had been enough to realize that, somehow, she had become even more beautiful than the last time he'd seen her.
She was a Senator now, instead of a Queen. Anakin understood the difference between the two roles now, unlike back when they had first met – political lessons weren't what he'd expected when he'd become a Padawan, but Obi-Wan insisted he needed to understand the social structure of the planets they visited on missions, and that included learning how the Republic itself worked. He wasn't surprised the Naboos had elected her to replace Palpatine once the older man had ascended to the position of Supreme Chancellor.
Anakin fell asleep thinking of her, and hoping that he would have the opportunity to talk to her before they accompanied Cain on his next adventure. Not for a moment did he doubt the Sith Lord would continue his crusade against the Hutts, nor that Obi-Wan and him would accompany him.
***
Though she'd never been to Nal Hutta before, the Hutt homeworld was exactly as Talzin had envisioned it. A cesspit of greed, misery, treachery and decadence, where the plundered wealth of thousands of star systems ended up decorating the palaces of the world's masters, each and every single one of them had been built by slave labour.
She let none of her feelings show on her face as she calmly walked down the ramp of the ship which had carried her and her escort from Dathomir. Now more than ever, she needed to maintain her façade : she and the score of the Nightsisters she'd brought with her from Dathomir were surrounded by armed sentients, all of whom ultimately worked for the Cartels in one way or another.
The thugs escorted them out of the spaceport and toward a waiting transport which carried them across the city's streets and to Marlo's palace, a gaudy and decadent thing which stood out in the mire of poverty and filth surrounding it like a diamond tooth in the mouth of a beggar. In most civilizations Talzin knew of, the wealthy tended to want to keep the poor away from their residences, but on Nal Hutta, it seemed the Hutts delighted in looking out the window and seeing the contrast between their living conditions and those of the vast majority of the population.
The same suffocating aura that covered the entire planet was concentrated around the palace. Carefully, Talzin opened her mind to it, and felt the greed, the despair, the fear that permeated the place; and, above it all, the raw, naked hunger for wealth, for power, for more, always more. Nal Hutta was a worm that would devour its own flesh the moment it failed to find easier prey elsewhere : it was only thanks to the Hutts' longevity forcing them to take the long view that some semblance of order was maintained.
Repugnant, and yet still preferable to the reign of the Sith. Talzin steeled herself, knowing what laid ahead was certain to challenge her, but also that it was necessary.
Marlo the Hutt was waiting for the Nightsister delegation in his throneroom. A crowd of his minions was also present in the room, leering at the Dathomirian females with unrestrained hunger. Talzin ignored her, projecting an aura of disdain that also strengthened the resolve of her Sisters as they walked through the chamber, stopping a few meters from the corpulent alien.
Marlo was just as Talzin had expected him. Disgustingly corpulent, with a sharp gaze that belied the rest of his indolent appearance. He rested atop a golden throne encrusted with hundreds of jewels which gleamed in the dim illumination provided by braziers which gave off sweet-smelling smoke, in a display of wealth that was as gaudy and tasteless as it was blatant.
"Greetings, mighty Marlo," said Talzin. She didn't bow : to do so would have been an unacceptable admission of weakness. "Your envoy claimed that you required the services of the Witches of Dathomir, and so we have come, to see what alliance might be forged between us against the common threat of Darth Cain."
As the name of the Sith Lord was spoken, Talzin noticed the reaction of the trio of Twi'lek slave girls, attached to the base of Marlo's throne by golden chains. It was subtle enough that no one else did, which was likely the results of them learning to conceal their real emotions early in their enslavement, but Talzin saw it nonetheless. A brief widening of the eyes, a tensing of their lithe limbs, a brief glance at each other.
Hope. They had heard about Darth Cain's apprentice declaring war against the Hutts, they had heard that their master's last attempt to gather an army to crush him had failed, and that was enough to make them hope that one day, they too would be free.
Foolish, ignorant girls. They didn't know the true nature of the Sith, and had bought into the lie Cain had woven to deceive the rest of the galaxy as to his intentions. However bad their current lives may be (and Talzin had no doubt that they were bad indeed), existence under the reign of the Sith would be far, far worse.
"Yes," replied the crime lord, speaking in Huttese – as his kind almost always did when speaking with outsiders, as yet another way to display their superiority by forcing others to learn their language. "The Lord of Terror has proven … bad for business. I want him gone."
"As do I," Talzin assured him. "You were right to send your emissary to our world. I believe we can be of assistance to you."
"Can you do it, then ?" asked Marlo. "Can you kill Cain ?"
"Any man can be killed," she replied. "It is only a matter of the effort it takes."
Marlo frowned, clearly not convinced by her words.
"And how much effort do you believe it will take to kill that man in particular ?"
She smiled. "Well, that is the question, is it not ?"
Again, Marlo appeared less than impressed with her glibness. Time to start being a bit clearer, before he got really angry.
"Killing the Lord of Terror will be difficult," she said honestly. She might be confident in her deception skills, but she didn't fancy her chances of tricking a centuries-old Hutt crime lord. "My Sisterhood has fought Jedi and Darksiders before, but a Sith Lord is another matter entirely. Which I suspect you already knew when you sent young Hanar to Dathomir."
"I know that," Marlo snapped. "If you were more dangerous than Cain, I would have been a fool to call for your help."
Talzin inclined her head slightly, conceding the point.
"Still," she said, "the Sith Lord is mighty, but our Sisterhood is many. Our sorcery might be able to protect your troops from Cain's manipulations, and there are … other means at our disposal, which can be used to strike at the Lord of Terror directly with your assistance."
Now, Marlo was interested – or at least, no longer concealing his interest.
"And what do you want in exchange ?"
Talzin smiled. Truthfully, she would have worked with Marlo for free : he was her best chance of neutralizing Cain before his conquering gaze turned to Dathomir. But the Hutt crime lord didn't know that. To him, her claims that Darth Cain was a common enemy were just diplomatic claptrap.
"I'm sure we can come to an agreement," she said, still smiling.
For the first time since she had arrived, Marlo smiled as well – a ghastly sight that made several of Talzin's escort shiver, though they all concealed it reasonably well. Then they began to negotiate.
***
Sitting in the speeder as it carried me to the Prime Minister's Palace, whose repairs following Varan's raid had recently been completed, I found myself musing on how things had so quickly escalated out of my control, and wishing I was less familiar with the feeling than I actually was.
I had only just come back to the closest thing to a home I'd ever known, and already, preparations were being made aboard the Invincible for our next operation on Rattatak, where we would cast down the Hutt-supported warlords and help Knight Narec's coalition achieve dominance. If given the choice, I'd much rather have stayed on Perlia, of course. But that was the kind of short-term thinking which had led so many of peers to their doom. Despite how the rest of the galaxy (including many of my own subordinates) saw it, our position was far from secure.
We'd been lucky on Savareen. The horde of mercenaries the Hutts had gathered had been precisely that : a horde, not an army. Between the superior experience and equipment of my troops, the Force storm blocking communication and visibility, and the sheer lethality of my Sith acolytes and Mandalorian warriors, the so-called Scouring had barely deserved the name of a battle, despite how close to death I'd come when fighting Durge. Mercenary warbands might serve as convenient shock troops in a pinch, but in my experience, only a fool used them as an army. They simply lacked the discipline of proper soldiers.
But from what Narec had told me, Rattatak's population was a different story entirely. From it, the Cartels could rise a true army given enough time, one that could actually give pause to the Sith troopers and Mandalorians under my theoretical command. Far better to strike now, while the Hutts were still forging their alliance, and prevent that from coming to pass. Knight Narec's arrival had even dropped the perfect casus belli in my lap, since he and his Padawan were already established local figures.
We weren't going to invade a planet, brutally murder most of its ruling class, and set ourselves up as its overlords instead, no no no. We were going to assist an ongoing local effort to put an end to a conflict that had already inflicted untold damage upon the world at the invitation of an existing power. And if I told myself that enough time, I might be able to say it out loud with a straight face.
I was well aware that nobody with two brain cells to rub together would actually buy that line of reasoning : our propagandists were good, but not that good, else they could have convinced the Galactic Senate to hand us the Core Worlds before the first shots of the Great Galactic War had been fired. But so long as it gave the people on Coruscant who were nervous about going to war without a proper Navy or Army of their own an excuse, and more importantly we could convince the Jedi Order that this was for the best, it should be fine.
"Sir, it's time," said my aide, dragging me out of my reverie.
"Thank you, JURG-N," I replied, automatically checking my clothes for any creases or stains and finding none.
Mindful of the dozens of holocams recording my every move and broadcasting me across the entire galaxy, I emerged from the speeder which had carried me from the Temple. The ceremony was going to take place outside the Palace itself, and I climbed the steps leading to the podium on which the Declaration of Secession waited for my signature with all the dignity I could project.
I made a show of reading the document. Obviously, this wasn't the first time I was presented with the final text : I had even forced myself to actually read it in its entirety out of paranoia, rather than rely on the legal experts in my service to provide me with a summary.
The rest of the galaxy might be surprised to learn that Sith Lords employed lawyers, and it was true that most hadn't back in the time of the Sith Empire : while laws and regulations bound the common Imperial citizen, when it came to Sith Lords, power was what mattered, regardless of its form. But I had found that having people who understood the local laws of the worlds I'd travelled to and could explain them to me ultimately helped me avoid a great deal of unpleasantness, even if they had taken as much time as everyone else to learn to tell me the unvarnished truth rather than what they thought I wanted to hear.
I still had no idea why it was that I needed to sign a physical copy of the document in order for Perlia's secession to be enacted. Even back in my time, nobody used physical copies for anything important, apart from a few inoffensive weirdos who preferred their texts to be written down on pulped tree matter and the much more dangerous ones who used stone or parchment to carve down unholy sigils as part of Dark Side rituals.
But protocol was protocol, and if it made the plebs and the troops happy to see me play along with all this pageantry, then suffering through it was a small price to pay.
So, with the most solemn expression I could fake, I picked up the elaborate pen that had been created specifically for this occasion from the velvet cushion on which it rested in JURG-N's outstretched arms, and put my signature at the bottom of the document, before picking up the new seal that had been crafted after my return – the original one had long since been lost – and pressed it down on the melted wax dripping from a candle held up by Trevellyan.
And just like that, Perlia was no longer part of the Republic. Well, not really : there was still a lot of paperwork and bureaucracy to go through before the entire process was complete. For most systems seeking secession, it would have been months, if not years, before their independence became a reality. But then, most systems didn't have a Sith army and the Invincible to enforce their independence. Despite my efforts to ignore the obvious, I knew that, for all practical purposes, Perlia's secession had already happened when Perlia had formally acknowledged me as its returned Sovereign.
Under the polite applause of the crowd, Trevellyan picked up the signed Declaration with as much care as if it were a holy relic, and placed it inside the protective case which I had been told would ultimately end up in one of the capital's museums, since its contents were now an integral part of Perlia's history. As blatant flattery attempts went, that one was on the subtler side, and I let it pass without comment.
Now, it was time for another part of my job I hated, even if I was very good at it : giving a speech.
***
From her privileged position at the front of the crowd, Padmé Amidala watched Cain, who exuded all the confidence one would expect from a Sith Lord – or so the Senator imagined, since she hadn't exactly met one before. Certainly he moved with the calm assurance of a veteran politician, effortlessly exuding the aura of someone used to giving orders and having them obeyed.
Unlike every other speech by a major political figure that Padmé had ever attended, there was no signal for the crowd to be silent : it just happened, everyone present suddenly going quiet all at once. Darth Cain wanted their attention, and so it was given to him.
"A long time ago, on a world not too distant from this one, a good friend of mine told me that slavery was an aberration," he began. His voice was strong, carrying across the crowd without apparent effort – it was a voice that seemed designed to give speeches. "That the Empire had become dependent on it, and that because of it, we could never win our war against the Republic, no matter how many battles we won."
Darth Cain smiled, and Padmé fancied that there was a hint of wistfulness in the expression.
"It took me longer than I care to admit to understand his meaning, but I did eventually. He was right then, and his words are still true today."
The Lord of Terror paused briefly, his gaze raking the crowd with the intensity of a starship's laser battery.
"Slavery is weakness," he continued. "It requires that the slaver constantly puts his slaves down to avoid being overthrown, dedicating his every waking moment to lowering others instead of elevating himself, to the eventual detriment of all. It encourages laziness and stagnation, because those in power see no reason to aim for anything beyond maintaining the status quo."
Padmé was familiar with that line of reasoning : it was the same Darth Cain had given to the Jedi when they'd asked him his reasons for declaring war on the Hutt Cartels. While the philosophical principles behind it were somewhat strange to her, in the end, the bitter truth was that it hadn't mattered to the slaves of Tatooine and Savareen why their liberators had come to rescue them. What mattered was that, unlike the Republic, the Cainite Sith were willing to act.
"In the days of the Sith Empire, when my entire civilization had been shaped from the ground up by madmen such as Vitiate and Erebus, there was precious little that could be done to change things."
From the corner of her eyes (for her gaze was still fixed on the Sith Lord) Padmé saw the Sith troopers and Acolytes tense at the mention of the Vile One's name, and thought she saw several make discreet hand gestures in that way sentients across the galaxy did to ward off evil. She was reminded that Darth Cain's Master had been hated even by his own people – that the Lord of Terror had earned the admiration of all those who had learned that he'd slain his Master and freed the galaxy from his depredations.
"We Sith all dwelled in the realm they had made," Darth Cain continued, showing no sign of the inner turmoil he must surely feel as well at the mention of his infamous Master, "with all its glories and all its flaws. But those monsters are gone, and the war that consumed the Empire for so much of my life, and was used as justification for so many things, is over. Now, at last, I am free to pursue my old friend's dream."
Who was that old friend, Padmé wondered, who had dared to express such views during the height of the Sith Empire's power ? What was their story ?
Perhaps she would have the opportunity to ask Darth Cain at some point. While they had had a brief conversation yesterday after his landing at the spaceport, their actual discussions were scheduled to take place later this week, once the secession was properly enacted and Perlia's new place in the galactic order had to be clarified.
She also wanted to talk to Obi-Wan and Anakin, of course – both to get their perspective on recent events, but also just to reconnect with them after several years. Palpatine occasionally talked to her about the young Padawan who had helped save their world from the Trade Federation when they met informally on Coruscant, but she hadn't had a chance to see either of them since then.
"With Perlia's secession from the Republic, the last of our restraints, symbolic as they might have been, have been cast off. The war that began on Tatooine at my Apprentice's hands, and that my soldiers and I continued on Savareen, shall not end until every sentient laboring in Hutt chains has been freed."
He said it so easily, as if it were never in doubt – as if he would allow no other outcome.
"And I know we shall not be alone in this. Already many systems have pledged their support for this great crusade of ours, while individuals have sailed the stars to join their strength to ours, bringing us knowledge of the worlds that suffer in the grasp of our adversaries."
Padmé knew of what Cain was speaking. The rumors of the pair and the rescued slaves they had brought with them had spread like wildfire across the planet : not many people were summoned to the Sith Temple itself for an audience, after all. That they'd apparently been carrying lightsabers – and weren't Sith acolytes returning from a secret mission – had only made the gossip spread faster.
"To the liberation networks who operate deep within Hutt territory, risking their lives every day to free just one more soul from bondage, know that you are not alone. You have fought long and hard, and now, at last, help is on the way."
Shame burned inside Padmé at the knowledge that it had taken the return of the Sith for that help to arrive, where the Republic should have acted centuries ago.
"To the warriors of the galaxy, who wander the stars and seek a worthy cause to fight for, join us," Darth Cain proclaimed, a summon that would echo across the stars. He pointed his index finger forward, straight at the cameras broadcasting his image on the Holonet : "To those who labour in chains and collars, denied the most basic of rights : hold on. We are coming."
Then, suddenly, the temperature dropped. Despite the warm sun shining overhead, Padmé shivered as the light seemed to fade. On the podium, Darth Cain's expression became hard as beskar as his outstretched hand closed into a fist :
"And finally, to the Cartels and the slavemasters, who revel in their petty kingdoms : know that I am coming for you. The hollow power you believe your wealth grants you shall not protect you from me and mine. Only by surrendering yourselves for judgement and freeing the slaves in your custody shall you be spared from our wrath."
"I am Darth Cain !" The Sith Lord's voice grew louder with every word now, yet he didn't sound out of breath. "Lord of Terror ! Sovereign of Perlia ! And here, I declare that together, we shall burn out this lingering rot from the Outer Rim, that all sentients may pursue the realization of their full potential, unfettered by the chains of slavery !"
"The Force shall set us free !"
The crowd roared, a mix of cheers and thunderous applause that made the very ground tremble with its intensity. It was Perlia's warcry, the promise of a people that they would follow their liege into war in the name of freedom for all sentients, regardless of the forces arrayed against them – convinced, every single one of them, that they would win regardless, because Darth Cain was on their side.
It was, Padmé knew, the death knell of the Republic's influence in the Outer Rim, and the annunciation of a rival power's rise in its stead, one rooted in a millennia-old darkness and steeped in distrust for the Republic which had failed its people.
And yet, before she realized it, the Naboo Senator found herself joining the applause, along with everybody else. Only the Jedi remained immobile, looking perfectly serene and untroubled – except Anakin, who was smiling wildly and all but vibrating in place as he looked at the Lord of Terror.
Since her arrival on Perlia, Padmé had visited the refugees in the growing town near the Sith Temple, her handmaidens accompanying her. She had met people who had been born into slavery. Others who had been captured in raids, or enslaved after failing to pay the cartels' 'protection'.
Padmé had known about slavery in the Outer Rim for years. She had read through the reports of her operatives as they did everything they could to help without breaking Republican law. But it was one thing to read Sablé's matter-of-fact description of the pits in which dozens of sentients had been herded by jeering thugs, and another to see the whipping scars on the skin of a too-thin Chagrian child, who was clinging to a Wookie along with half a dozen other orphans.
She had seen the images of Vaylin and Cain. There were many of them, from holos to hand-painted pictures and stone statues, crafted with surprising skill. And she had seen the looks sent toward the Sith Temple, full of hope and reverence, even though the ancient building's threatening aura could be felt all the way there.
These people didn't care that their rescuers were Sith, didn't care about the horrors that the Empire had unleashed upon the galaxy in ancient history. And why would they ? Most of them hadn't known what a Sith was before one of them had strode into the palace of their oppressor and executed him before setting them all free.
Truly, she thought faintly as the applause continued unabated, Darth Cain was even more terrifying than she had thought. She had more experience with politics than she would have liked, and that had been masterfully done.
***
"The Force shall set us free !"
Alone in his office, Palpatine watched the live Holonet transmission of Darth Cain's speech, and tried not to seethe. This wasn't his private apartment : he couldn't afford to risk drawing attention by losing control of his rage and trashing the place.
Thanks to his own mastery of the Dark Side and the many years he'd spent playing the part of a politician at the Republic's highest levels of power, Sidious could see through Cain's words, could cut through the veil of deceit intended for the common sheep of the galaxy. This speech was a declaration of war aimed at him, personally – or rather, aimed at the Sith Lord who had sent Varan to Perlia, and whom the Lord of Terror still believed was based in the Outer Rim.
It was an open challenge, and there was nothing he could do about it. Public opinion on Cain was still split in the Republic : even with all the influence he held on the media, shaping galactic thought took time, especially when the public consciousness kept being violently shaken by the Lord of Terror's latest exploit.
He took a deep breath and forced himself to remain calm. His plans to counter his rival's ascendancy were already in motion, and impulsive action at this stage would only endanger him – which might even be the goal of the speech in the first place : a provocation meant to push him into making a mistake and reveal his position to Darth Cain. He could admire the artistry in the manoeuvre, which would rally support to the Lord of Terror's little crusade against the Hutts while pursuing his true objective of finding and destroying his rival at the same time. But it would be Sidious who'd get the last laugh in the end.
Bane had just contacted him, informing Sidious that he'd finished assembling his crew and was on his way to Perlia. There, he would make contact with Dooku to assist his infiltration and gain access to the vault hidden underneath the ancient Sith Temple, to steal the priceless relics collected by Darth Cain over the years before bringing them back to Palpatine – in exchange for a suitably exorbitant sum of money, of course, but the anonymous accounts Sidious had inherited from Plagueis could more than take the hit.
Sidious was fully aware that the odds of Bane's success were rather low. Darth Cain's vault had remained unopened for thousands of years, and Varan's expedition had been far from the first attempt made by the Banite Sith at cracking it open. Very few of the agents Sidious' predecessors had sent had returned, and those hadn't survived long, their minds irreparably damaged by what they had witnessed in the depths below the Sith Temple.
But it didn't matter. After all, regardless of how Bane's operation went, Sidious was confident he could turn it to his advantage. The best case scenario would be if the bounty hunter succeeded, of course : the treasures within Cain's vault were certain to be very powerful, and the theft in itself would deal a significant blow to the reputation of the rival Sith Lord.
Even if Bane failed, Sidious would benefit. As historians across the galaxy dug into the legend of Darth Cain, stories had emerged of the kind of artefacts the Lord of Terror had encountered during his career and locked away. If they were unleashed by Bane's team, the damage they would cause on Perlia before Cain and his followers could contain them would do much more damage to his image of invincibility. It would be even better if Amidala and the other Senators were caught in the fallout – or, even better, Anakin's mother, who dwelled in the refugee city growing around the Sith Temple itself.
And, if the worst case scenario came to pass and Bane died or was captured without accomplishing anything, the mere fact that such an infamous bounty hunter had made the attempt would keep Darth Cain focused on the Outer Rim, looking for his mysterious rival. Bane knew very little about Sidious : his Sith name, and the fact that he was a Human male, but nothing more – and even the latter could be faked, since all their communications had been done through holo.
Yes, Palpatine reassured himself. This time, he had set things up perfectly so that every possible outcome would benefit him.
***
AN : Sure, Sheev, sure. There is no possible way your scheme to have a bunch of low-lifes rob an ancient Sith vault that has gone unbreached throughout the entire Line of Bane's existence, while the owner is in residence in the temple above, could possibly backfire.
The funny thing about Palpatine is that for all his smarts (and he is smart, else he wouldn't be Supreme Chancellor), his pride and conviction of his own infaillibility is still a big weakness. For a canon example, see the whole "I'm gonna have my Apprentice, who turned to the Dark Side to save the one he loved above all, duel and possibly kill his son. How could this possibly go wrong ?" debacle.
Also, to be fair to him (which, given this is Palpatine we are talking about, is as difficult than you would expect), he hasn't had much experience with Cain's own brand of 'luck' so far.
Anyway, writing this took a bit longer than anticipated. If you're following my other works, you can probably guess why : first I wanted to finish A Young Girl's Weaponization of the Mythos, and then the Muse took me on a wild tangeant.
Also, I have recently become aware that this story is, apparently, the Number One SW/40K crossover on ffnet in terms of Follows and Favorites. Which honestly doesn't seem right, given how old and MASSIVELY popular both those franchises are (alright, the former a lot more than the latter, but still). I can only assume this is due to Cain's awesomeness leaking through the Fourth Wall.
As always, I hope you enjoyed reading this chapter, and look forward to your thoughts, theories and suggestions.
Zahariel out.Last edited: Feb 13, 2025Like Award (Awarded ×1) Quote Reply1724