The incessant rain drummed against the walker's observation windows, eroding Anakin's already meager patience.
They had been on the move for a full day. Vehicles were sinking into the oceans of mud and bogs that the planet's surface had turned into as soon as the rains started. Rain and mud, slush and quagmire… The complete opposite of the arid Tatooine he had left many years ago. And to which he had inwardly sworn never to return.
But this planet irritated him more and more.
This battle, this war… They had dragged on for too long.
Thirty Jedi under Obi-Wan's command had gone to this accursed planet. To return law and order to this rotten world.
Rot… it was everywhere. Not just on the planet, but in the minds of the local nationalists. In the minds of the Separatists supporting them. In the minds of the Republicans…
Thousands of clones and a vast ocean of equipment had been given to Obi-Wan to destroy the Separatist filth.
And the very first defense of Shelter Base showed what all those bureaucratic figures on datapads were worth. No matter what kind of Chosen One he was (in the Temple they only whispered about it, but here on Jabiim they already spoke openly), having noticed the swift attack by the local nationalist leader—Stratus and his "Nimbus" commandos—he had been unable to stop them.
The enemy's rapid attack damaged or destroyed a significant portion of the Republicans' heavy equipment. The vaunted AT-ATs and self-propelled guns simply got stuck in the mud and became victims of enemy rocket volleys.
Not opponents… enemies. After the explosion of one of the self-propelled guns nearly killed Obi-Wan and Ahsoka, Anakin could no longer consider this battle something detached. It had become personal for him.
Anakin understood that he should keep his emotions under control—since he could not harness them and renounce them as the Jedi required. How difficult… None of them understood him. Only the Chancellor could support a Jedi lost in doubt. His words always helped Anakin, healing his spiritual wounds.
Zhallsem Billissura, Daalnus Kam, and Sana Jis-Ilova. Who would heal their wounds? They had perished in all this chaos. Several more Jedi were missing. They were not felt in the Force, so Obi-Wan assumed they were also dead.
Deaths, losses, disappointment…
Were he in power, were his opinion important—this war would have ended long ago. Traitors must die, loyalists must be brought close. All these flirtations of the Senate with the Separatists… It's disgusting. It desecrates the memory of the fallen.
Anakin forced himself to push away the harmful thoughts.
He needed to pull himself together. He needed to unite the scattered detachments, gather forces into a fist, and hold on until Obi-Wan regained consciousness. He would be able to figure out what they should do next. For now, they had to hold on…
***
Staring at the holographic map of the galaxy, Master Kit Fisto's thoughts were far from Coruscant.
The losses of the recent weeks bloomed like fresh wounds on the Nautolan's mighty heart.
He did not consider himself sentimental, but the loss of his former Padawan… He had seen Nahdar's death at the hands of Grievous with his own eyes. The merciless machine had easily dealt with the impatient young Jedi Knight. Fisto silently, as befits a Jedi, bore this strike, though he took it close to heart.
Returning to the Temple, he was inconsolable. There were not many mentors for Padawans from amphibian races. During training, Kit had grown close to the restless Mon Calamari. Thus, his loss was incredibly strong.
The Council gave him time to recover. And while most Council members were at the front or performing responsible tasks, he was healing his spiritual wounds.
A call over the holocomm drew his attention. Activating the device, he answered the greeting with a slight grinding of snow-white teeth.
"Master Dougan,"—rumor had it the man had received serious injuries after meeting a dark acolyte. Many younglings and Padawans told each other stories about how hideous the most prominent Jedi had become. Rumor claimed it was precisely because of the injuries that the new commander of the 13th Sector Army never removed his mask. Perhaps so.
Oh, even with a hidden face, he had managed to drive a wedge between Fisto and Secura. Kit would not be a Master if he could not read between the lines.
"Master Fisto," the man bowed. In his armor, he looked quite similar to the ancient Jedi. The very ones who flooded the home of the Jedi thousands of years before this day. However, the rumors circulating in the Temple attributed his attire to the Sith. "I have successfully completed the mission. Jabba's son is rescued."
"Excellent," Kit evaluated. Whatever friction arose between him and this man, it was not proper to mix it with the personal. Aayla saw Vos in him—a resilient, lighthearted Kiffar. Soon she would realize that passion for a person is fleeting. And Fisto's tender feelings… "But the fact is that Jabba recently changed the terms."
"Indeed?" the Jedi's voice did not sound surprised. "And what now?"
"He demands the delivery of the organizer of his son's kidnapping to him no later than two days from now," Fisto checked the Council's records, adjusting for the day that had passed since the report was received. "Master Unduli should have already returned to Tatooine, but for some reason, she is not making contact."
"Oh," was all the Jedi replied. "Well, I think I have something to surprise him with…"
The Jedi, bowing, disconnected.
Kit looked thoughtfully at the place where the hologram of the hero of Christophsis had just been. Decidedly, he and Vos are alike. The only question is whether this Jedi Master will remain faithful to the Order.
***
Sate Pestage, the trusted advisor to the former senator and now Chancellor Palpatine himself, slipped into the latter's office, silently closing the doors behind him.
Palpatine, not looking up from his desk monitor, waved to him like an old acquaintance, signaling him to approach.
They had been known to each other for a very long time. So much so that Sate was sometimes called the Chancellor's relative. However, on the latter's advice, Pestage neither denied nor confirmed these rumors. The uncertainty of his true position would make some fear and others grovel.
"There are news, my Lord," Sate said quietly.
"I am listening," Sheev still did not look up from his activity. But this did not mean the Sith was not paying attention.
Oh, yes. Sate, thanks to years of service, knew Palpatine's secret. One of the few, he was initiated into all his secrets. And he always remained faithful to his master.
"There is unrest in the Senate," he began. "Regarding the new bill…"
Palpatine's lips curled upward.
"The Security Measures Strengthening and Consolidation Act," he recited from memory. "We expected it to cause a rift in the Senate. Но наши сторонники придерживаются своих позиций."
"At the same time, the loyalists are plotting something," Pestage squinted. Catching the Chancellor's interested gaze, he hurried to add. "Bail Organa was seen in the company of Finis Valorum."
"Is that so," a flash of slight surprise crossed the Chancellor's face. "How interesting."
"Exactly," the advisor chimed in. "For two years he sat quietly; now he is building bridges. Organa is undoubtedly just a representative."
"Undoubtedly," the Chancellor agreed. "The Alderaanian would never have dared such a venture himself. After the vote of no confidence, the senators lost trust in Valorum. And now, after all this time…"
The Chancellor stood up. Slowly, he walked to the large panoramic window of his office, staring at the outlines of city buildings.
"He should have been made to understand our point of view immediately after the publication of that vile little book," he hissed. "How can someone be so thick-headed. There will be no triumphant return. It's time for the House of Valorum to realize their political career has come to an end."
Sate nodded reflexively, agreeing with his boss's words.
Over the last thousand years, the House of Valorum could boast a significant number of representatives who held the position of Supreme Chancellor of the Galactic Republic. And from one Valorum to the next, their thirst for power and wealth only grew. The Senate indulged them exactly as much as was needed for them to finally lose the boundaries of decency and turn their post into a lucrative spot, not shrinking from taking bribes from various scum like the Trade Federation.
No one liked the former Chancellor. During the years he spent in seclusion, he was, of course, watched, but the new Chancellor was always comforted by the thought that the senators who had stabbed Valorum in the back had turned away from him. Now, the loyalists, undoubtedly represented by the senator from Alderaan, were going to play an already beaten card.
Sate understood, and therefore Palpatine knew, that the return of Finis Valorum to the political arena was nothing more than a gesture of despair from the Delegation of 2000. During the period of strengthening Palpatine's power, there would be many willing to go against the general course of the current Chancellor's cabinet. Simply out of spite. Palpatine had stepped on many throats and gotten rid of many, cleansing and healing the Senate. His supporters helped make the state better, and if not for the interference from ideological fanatics like Amidala, Mothma, Iblis, and Organa—the transformations would already be working for the benefit of the Republic.
"Your orders, Chancellor?" Pestage inquired.
"None," Palpatine cut him off. "Let them play with their former Chancellor. He cannot stop me anyway… Speaking of interference. Sate, what is the status of Jabba's son's rescue operation?"
"Our spies report that Jedi Master Rick Dougan," the Chancellor's eyebrow rose in surprise, "has freed Jabba's son and is heading for Tatooine."
***
Walking slowly through the night desert, I could not rejoice enough that both suns had hidden behind the horizon. A blessed coolness had covered the surface of Tatooine. Not wishing to waste armor filter resources, I detached the face mask and enjoyed the cool air.
Immediately upon arrival in the Tatooine system, the Hammer fleet was met by a motley fleet of Hutts. Looking at the collection of vessels in various stages of rust, which, to put it mildly, bore no comparison to our ships, Pellaeon suggested dispersing this colorful company and fighting our way to the planet.
Our situation was… not the most pleasant. The Hutts outnumbered us, and furthermore, they were blocking our communications. We couldn't report the unpleasant development to command. Breaking out of the system without a fight was also impossible. The Hutts, true to their mentality, were forcing us to play by their rules.
"I'm afraid I must decline your offer, Commodore," I said with sadness. In the movie, the delivery of the Huttlet happened quite differently. And, by the Force, I'll be damned if our "solemn reception committee" wasn't Dooku's doing. I felt the Dark Side on Tatooine, so I had to prepare for another battle. Dooku understands how important the Hutt is for his and our plans. "Keep the ships in constant readiness. Do not open fire first, but be ready to defend to the last and break out with a fight."
Once we conclude an alliance with the Hutts, their hyperspace routes will allow us to deliver supplies, reinforcements, and equipment from Rothana and Kamino faster. And the more and faster we can throw forces to the front line, the more rapid the Separatist retreat will be.
Jabba's majordomo—the Twi'lek Bib Fortuna—finally deigned to contact us and relayed the Hutt's demands: deliver his son on a transport with a single escort. No armed escort—the planet is entirely under the control of the crime lord's flotilla. Only a lazy person would not remark that the proposal looked more like a trap. However, starting a slaughter when there was at least a slight chance of making peace with the Hutts…
With a sigh, I was forced to agree.
The minimum break-in team—me, Olee, and both ARCs.
Renting a Nu-class shuttle, we flew to the planet…
Just like in the movie, an ambush awaited us in the stratosphere…
I'll give them credit, Balda and Alpha made every effort to land the ship as smoothly as possible. Like a stone in a "skipping" game, we bounced on the sand dunes until we wedged into one of the embankments. Cutting an exit in the hull with a lightsaber (the bow was buried under a layer of sand), I pulled both clones and Olee, in whose care the little Hutt was, out into the air one by one.
Looking at my team, I suddenly realized that from this moment on, the mission was turning into a race for survival.
The heroic landing of the shuttle cost Alpha broken legs and Balda a fragment of the instrument panel stuck in his side. While the ship still had energy, I connected the clones to medical systems. The displaced fractures caused Alpha incredible pain, so I put him and the second ARC into a medically induced sleep while the medical droid poked around in their insides.
"Will they survive?" the Padawan asked me. The Huttlet had also received damage—several impressive bruises, a dozen scratches. Covered in bacta patches, he was sleeping like a log in the damaged shuttle's aft compartment.
"Most likely," I didn't actually know. I was just guided by the droid's conclusions that the prognosis was favorable. Looking at the setting suns, Tatoo 1 and Tatoo 2, I was already mentally calculating the further plan of action. "They are glorious warriors, but they won't help us in this mission."
"Will we walk to the Hutt's palace?" the girl specified, sensing trouble.
"Not we, I. You will stay here and guard the clones and the little Hutt."
"But, Master!…"
"Don't argue. I will fight my way to the palace and call for help. You need to protect the ship and the Hutt. I will try to draw all the droid forces to myself—but you should also be on guard. Dooku might realize what's what and send assassins to you."
"Then why don't we stay and wait for help?"
"Delay is like death, Olee. If we don't meet with Jabba by dawn—the Hutt might defect to the Separatist side. By the time everyone figures everything out—who kidnapped the Hutt, who delivered him, who tried to interfere—much time will pass. I'm afraid the Republic's plans won't come to fruition then."
With a heavy heart, I set out.
Loading the map into my wrist computer, I set a marker on Jabba's Palace and began my journey from the desert to the abode of the king of the underworld.
I had about sixty kilometers to cover. An impossible task for an ordinary person—at night, and through the desert. But not for a seasoned Jedi…
"You're betting on that slug," Valkorion's ghost appeared beside me. "Otherwise you wouldn't have needed the incriminating data from the Hutt grave."
"Criminals, with proper motivation, are also an army," I noted. "I've reviewed the records. Should the Republic learn of the Hutt Council's dealings—a couple of sector armies would be cleansing Hutt Space of every slug. Jabba's name appears in many illegal operations—including connections with several senators."
"And you intend to take these creatures by the throat and force them to serve you?" the ghost smiled contentedly.
"The general idea is that," I agreed. "But one must understand that the Council is also not stupid. The Hutts, conversely, might defect to the Separatists just to secure themselves from a Republic invasion—if I push too hard. And then, I will get nothing. Especially since the Hutts do not favor the Republic or the Jedi. If I blackmail them, they'll just send a legion of assassins and dump my mortal body into a canyon on a forgotten planet. My plan is more cunning."
"Hmm," the Emperor stroked his beard. "Jabba. You are making him your puppet."
Not a question—a statement.
"He is involved like all the others," I confirmed. "But unlike the Council, his territory is outside of Hutt Space. And more vulnerable than he thinks. Rescuing his son plus the incriminating data will make him a suitable ally. He will control the Hutt Council; I will control him. Furthermore, the kidnapper of his son will soon be in my hands. He is the main lackey of Hutt crimes on Coruscant. Jabba's uncle, Ziro. Mercenaries will deliver him to Christophsis, where Jabba and other Hutts cannot reach him. But I will have a living witness and a lever of pressure."
"A wonderful combination, my apprentice," Vitiate praised. "A multi-move intrigue worthy of true Sith. Cunning, blackmail…"
"I grow alongside you, Master."
"And your Empire grows," the ghost noted. "Korriban, Ziost, and a good half of Sith Space, Tython, Lehon, Yavin 4, Zakuul…"
"For now, I intend to limit myself to seizing Sith Space and the controlled worlds," I admitted. Seeing the silent question in the Emperor's eyes, I continued. "I lack the forces for full-scale protection of my worlds. In an open confrontation, the Republic or the CIS would crush me."
"Is that why you ordered Malgus not to touch the worlds of Sith Space occupied by the CIS?"
"And that's why Palpatine's bastard Prophets are still on Dromund Kaas. The Dromund system is still waiting for the Dark Temple to be visited by one worthy of the Emperor's legacy."
"I like your view of the future, my apprentice," Valkorion smiled. "You have drawn correct conclusions from your past failures. Crush the enemy in your oversector, and when the time comes—you can take control of Kamino and Rothana, depriving your opponents of supply and reinforcement lines. Having secured the support of the Kaminoan ruler, you have significantly eased your conquest of the galaxy."
"That is the plan, Master," I smirked. "Of course, its realization is still far off, but steps toward dominance have been taken. My secret army is preparing on Yavin 4. The battle droids of the New Forge will easily sweep away the CIS army and provide us a reliable bridgehead in the North, while the 13th Sector and Hutt Space remain loyal to me in the South. The Kamino government is subordinate to me, and that will be an unpleasant surprise for the Sith—as soon as the third generation of clones joins the ranks of the Grand Army of the Republic. Undoubtedly, most Jedi will perish. But the survivors, along with my future new recruits, will be loyal enough to accept the teaching of the Je'daii in my interpretation. Without the supply of clones from Kamino, the Republic will not last long. And the CIS will lose its strength by the end of the war."
"You intend to wage a war of attrition?" the Emperor asked with disdain.
"Oh no, Master," I smirked. "I haven't told you my whole plan yet. I resolutely need my own man in the Unknown Regions…"
***
I felt the opponent when Jabba's Palace was a little less than ten kilometers away.
The power of the Dark Side blocked my path. Unobtrusively, the Dark Side adept was issuing a challenge to me. And it remains for me to accept it or not.
Damn, I'm so tired of all these saber duels. On Earth, I used to snort that the saga had practically no such duels. Now, I wasn't very pleased that a champion of the Dark Side had stood against me once again.
Without slowing my pace, I pressed the mask to my face, letting the computer seal my armor. To hell with it; if we must fight, we must fight.
Raising waves of sandy dust, my opponent stopped on a luxury speeder bike on the crest of a sand dune. The moonlight hit from behind his back, so I couldn't make out his face. However, I wouldn't have been able to anyway—the villain from whom the Dark Side flowed was in an accursed cloak, and a hood hid his face. The opponent silently dismounted and yanked a being in dark, baggy clothes with a characteristic, recognizable headgear from the passenger seat.
"Master Unduli?" Without a doubt, my voice was filled with surprise. "What are you doing here?"
The Mirialan silently raised her hands, which were bound in shock-cuffs. Shame and embarrassment emanated from her, which was quite uncharacteristic for such a skilled master.
"She is my prisoner, Jedi," throwing back his hood with a jerk, a tall Weequay spoke to me. His eyes glowed with amber flame, and the Dark Side of the Force surged around him like a tsunami.
"Damn it!" I cursed inwardly. "And why not Dooku?"
According to the plot of the cartoon telling of the kidnapping of Jabba's son, Skywalker and his Padawan were opposed on Tatooine by Count Dooku himself and his damn IG-100 MagnaGuards. I admit, the change in "canon" stressed me out.
To give you an idea of the level of my confusion—Sora Bulq was a former Jedi Master, a legendary lightsaber instructor. Many in the Temple called him one of the best instructors in the business. Furthermore, unlike the Makashi of Dooku, which I had studied well, Bulq mastered Vaapad—the seventh form of lightsaber combat. This form was created by Master Windu to replace the lost Juyo style. And judging by the fact that Windu used it to smear Palpatine across his office—the opponent's arsenal was more than impressive.
Moreover, this jerk had taken Unduli prisoner. Which meant I would have to fight not so much for myself, but also to save a hostage. Were we one-on-one with Bulq, I would have opened myself to the Dark Side and decomposed him into atoms (which I had planned, actually). But I couldn't use my secret arsenal in front of Unduli. Otherwise, I'd have to arrange a date with my lightsaber for her afterward as well…
What the hell is with all these ambushes?!
"I can see that," I said, drawing out the words. Then, looking at the Jedi, I asked: "Master, are you alright?"
"Only my pride is wounded," Unduli said with bitterness. "How could I believe you had returned to the Light, Sora?!"
The Dark servant laughed mockingly. With a careless push, he sent the Mirialan tumbling down the slope. I reacted, catching the Jedi with the Force and setting her on her feet. Seeing this, the Weequay laughed.
A lightsaber hilt appeared in his right hand, and a moment later, it glowed crimson. Unduli held out her shock-cuffed wrists to me, unmistakably hinting at her release. My first thought was to do just that. Но затем в моей памяти всплыла сцена из потивостояния Дарта Бейна и Дарта Занны против джедаев на Тайтоне… Resolutely shaking my head, I gestured for her not to interfere. To hell with it; I won't hamstring myself with help. To the dumpster with all these disservices. Especially to my dear self.
"Give me the Hutt's son, Jedi, and we will part peacefully!"
"Actually, he perished in the crash," I informed him.
Sora shook in a fit of rage.
"Then I will bring your corpse to Count Dooku!"
"To be honest, I have a better option," I had to admit. "How about you put away the saber and I leave you alive?"
The Weequay once again laughed mockingly. Of course, I am just dust under his feet to him—if he had dismantled the recognized Master of Soresu, Luminara, then who am I to him? What a pity he is unaware of who is actually before him.
"Choose, Jedi. Are you with me or against me?"
Here we go again.
With sadness, I looked at my cloak. Well, for heaven's sake. I'll have to order a new one. Again.
"Only fools deal in absolutes," my saber hilt jumped into my hand. The gold-yellow light of the ancient weapon illuminated the night darkness.
I still didn't understand why Valkorion's son's blade reacted so warmly to me, but it pleased me. I liked this saber and the unity with the Force it gave me. I hadn't poked around in the blade's internals, but I was almost certain the crystal set in the hilt was masterfully selected.
"Forgive me, Master Bulq," spinning the saber before me, I surrounded myself with a Force Barrier. "But I will do my duty."
***
Luminara grimaced, realizing she had been cast as a mere bystander. The Jedi recalled with slight irritation how her Consular had landed in the desert at Sora's beacon, calling to her for help. How she berated herself for believing him. A single mistake had led to the death of the entire crew. In a fierce confrontation, the former instructor had destroyed her lightsaber and taken the Mirialan prisoner. Now, instead of crossing blades with the former Jedi, she had to contemplate the battle unfolding before her.
Of course, there were rumors in the Temple that Knight Dougan possessed great Power. But untamed Power is only a hindrance—Bulq was hardened by thousands of sparring matches, and Dougan… Unfortunately, he was unlikely to be able to withstand the fallen Jedi.
Right before her eyes, a completely different picture was unfolding.
Dougan occupied an extremely uncomfortable position—he stood lower than Bulq, so the strikes delivered by the latter possessed greater kinetic force. However, one couldn't say the armored Jedi was giving ground.
Parrying the first sequence, executed in the classical fifth form, the Jedi easily dodged the slashing blows and retreated, forcing Bulq to lose his advantage.
The opponent snorted haughtily when the Jedi parried his attack and retreated to regroup. He had begun the fight fiercely, counting on quickly finishing their skirmish. Now he had to reconsider his strategy.
"You're not as bad as other Jedi," he said, clearly impressed and not even trying to hide it. With a slight movement of his head, the Weequay pointed toward the defeated Master of Soresu. "Count Dooku would appreciate your talents."
"Well, that's unlikely," the Jedi laughed. "On Teth, I deprived him of two assistants—Tann and Ventress are unlikely to help the Separatist cause anymore."
"What?" Bulq was surprised. "You…"
"First, I exhausted them with a duel," the Jedi said. "And then I blew out a monastery wall at a kilometer's height… Need I tell more?"
With a growl more like an animal's than a sentient being's, Bulq rushed forward again, and the air was filled with the hiss and crackle of lightsabers that had managed to touch each other several times in the interval between two heartbeats.
Dougan could easily have lost his life had he tried to react to every movement of the experienced fallen Jedi individually.
Luminara watched with bated breath as the armored Jedi surrounded himself with a dense cocoon of the Force. He moved in a kind of trance, calling upon the Force, letting it flow through him and guide his hand. His weapon became an extension of the Force, and he answered the Weequay's persistent attack with an impenetrable defense.
The Mirialan watched with delight as the yellow blade parried the red strikes. Five minutes had passed since the start of the fight, and a turning point had arrived in the battle of two titans.
As if receiving additional energy, Dougan went on the offensive.
Luminara could consider herself an experienced fencer. Niman, unrefined, awkward, bland, and despised by most Jedi, seemed to come alive in Dougan's hands. The Jedi showered his opponent with strikes, sequences of thrusts, and blocks with such unprecedented speed that she had no doubt—somehow, the Jedi had seized the initiative in the battle.
He drove Sora deep into the desert with fierce, sharp strikes, forcing the old fencing teacher to retreat. Performing a backflip, the Weequay broke the distance, avoiding a treacherous thrust that threatened to slice him from waist to shoulder.
"You… who is your master, boy?" he shouted. The fallen one's voice was laced with malice and rage. And Unduli understood him—few Jedi could compete with him in lightsaber battles. And each of them would be well known in the Temple. Dougan… before the War, no one had even heard of him.
"An exceedingly experienced and wise being," the Jedi replied. "Haven't you felt the full power of his lessons?"
"Niman cannot possess such power," the instructor declared confidently. "It's the lot of the weak…"
"Then why are you running, Master Bulq?" the Jedi replied mockingly.
Darkness emanated from the Weequay. His blade soared to shoulder level, as if the fallen Jedi intended to punch a hole in his opponent with a single strike.
Luminara gasped. Vaapad.
"You've got to be kidding me!" came from the Jedi.
At that same second, Sora leaped into the air, spinning his body around its axis. Like a living drill, the tip of which was the crimson flame of his blade…
However, despite his exclamation, the Jedi swiftly stepped aside, allowing Sora to successfully plow through several meters of desert.
"Your Vaapad is kind of crap, to be honest, Master Bulq," the Jedi lamented. "Maybe you'd better demonstrate Juyo?"
The fallen Jedi spat only curses in response.
Without further words, Rick proceeded to the attack. And Luminara could swear that none of the styles known to her even closely resembled what the young Jedi was demonstrating.
His blade was parried by the former instructor at the last second, but Dougan quickly followed the strike with another series of powerful thrusts and stabs. The fencing master continued to retreat, relentlessly pushed back by the fury of the golden-bladed wielder's frantic attack. Luminara noted that Bulq, not achieving a result with the first thrust, had switched to defense, opposing the Jedi's onslaught with the mastery of incomparable Vaapad. But the latter seemed not to notice this, as if unaware of the lethal danger of the seventh lightsaber fencing style, driving the opponent further away from the prisoner, pushing Sora toward the speeder bike parked half a dozen steps up the dune slope.
Sora fought desperately. It was clear that his tactics were not working—the Jedi had spent the first part of the fight studying his opponent to crush him with his hidden advantage at the end. And even Vaapad proved unable to break through the Knight's defense. Whatever style (by the way, many of the sequences and techniques used by the Jedi seemed unfamiliar to Unduli, so she doubted the Knight was using the Sixth Form of fencing) Dougan was using, it surpassed what Sora Bulq could oppose him with. And it seemed incredible. A Jedi who had spent his whole life within the Temple walls, apart from masters and holocrons, was fighting on equal terms with a legendary lightsaber instructor.
Every time the latter tried to change tactics or switch to another form, Dougan anticipated it, reacted, and seized the advantage.
***
Luminara watched with silent horror as the Force around the Jedi distorted, filling with dark clumps. Encased in black armor, he himself began to radiate the Dark Side. And even the Jedi Master's shouts were ignored by him. The Jedi easily blackened his Light. And from the simplicity with which he yielded to emotions (and Unduli clearly saw anger turning into rage in him), she could conclude that he was by no means doing this for the first time.
But Vaapad, or as he called it—Juyo (memories flashed in Unduli's head; Mace had said something about Juyo, and somehow it was connected to Vaapad), though it was a formidable weapon, still did not carry that lethal elegance in Dougan's execution that was visible in Bulq's movements. However, even such unrefined, unbalanced strikes forced Dooku's henchman to retreat.
The resolution was inevitable. Sora understood this; the Jedi understood this. Even for Luminara, it was perfectly clear that in the further confrontation, Dougan would exhaust his opponent and finish him. As he had boastfully declared, telling of the deaths of the two acolytes. And for some reason, Unduli was inclined to believe the man that he truly could have finished off both of Dooku's assistants who were pestering the Jedi.
"I feel the Darkness in you, Jedi," Sora exhaled in a satisfied tone. He touched a button on his wrist remote, and his speeder bike was instantly beside the Jedi. "Your pathetic mockery of Vaapad has only pushed you into the abyss of the Dark Side. Didn't Mace Windu warn you?"
"Oh, really?" Rick smirked. "Did you notice that before or after I sent you to eat sand? I'll handle the Dark Side."
Sora laughed triumphantly.
"You don't even know it yet, but the Dark Side is within you, Jedi. I felt your emotions in every strike, in every sequence. Boy, you don't know it yet, but you are already almost a Sith."
Luminara, not believing her ears, threw a glance through the Force at the Jedi.
Sora was right.
The Jedi was not Light.
Luminara had heard of "Grey" Jedi. Shortly before the War, a small group had separated from the Order. They considered themselves capable of controlling Sith teachings, the emotions that Sith used in battle. The Jedi searched for the outcasts throughout the galaxy, seeking to prevent new Sith wars.
The Jedi standing before her glowed with a dull, dirty-white light in which blots of dark emotions danced… And there were so many of them…
Was it possible that Dougan was a follower of their teaching? Но тогда почему его до сих пор не разоблачили?
"Tell me something new, henchman," the Jedi said tiredly. "My Darkness is mine alone. I am the master of my Darkness. And your hopes that I will yield to it,"—Luminara shrieked as she saw the Jedi easily dissolve his emotions into the Light. His aura became grey, repulsive. For all his merits—Dougan is a heretic. And Luminara's entire being called out to resolve the dilemma between Light and Darkness once and for all. — "are a waste of time. Go on, run to your master, complain that you got thrashed by yesterday's Padawan of a research Jedi."
Hurling a curse at the Jedi, Bulq looked over the battlefield. Were the opponent alone, he would have tried to attack again. But now the Jedi carelessly moved his fingers, and the shock bracelets that had broken the Mirialan's concentration throughout the battle, preventing her from concentrating and applying the Force, opened and fell into the sand. Sora felt the Jedi beginning to accumulate the Force within himself… The battle was lost. But even from this, profit could be gained for the Confederacy's cause.
Without a word, Bulq pressed the accelerator and disappeared from sight.
A heavy sigh came from under Dougan's mask. The Jedi, like a felled tree, collapsed onto his knees in the sand.
"I'm so tired," he said.
***
The Jedi lowered himself onto his legs, hanging his blade on his belt. Luminara heard hoarse sighs from under his mask. She saw numerous melted scars from Bulq's light blade playing on his armor in the moonlight. She saw him clutching his left side with his hand—evidently Sora had reached him after all. And only the battle fervor had kept the Jedi from breaking.
And now, when the danger had passed, he allowed exhaustion to take over. Dougan sat as if meditating. Luminara felt the Light in him, felt the Darkness. And with every minute, there was more of the latter. There was no time to lose…
The Jedi Master approached him, knelt down. She removed the lightsaber from his belt—the Jedi only moved his head, following his weapon's path to Luminara's belt. He didn't make a single move to stop her actions or hinder her.
"I'm sorry you had to see this, Master Unduli," he admitted. "Is there any point in assuring you that I am not…"
"You are a heretic," the woman pointed a finger at him accusingly. "You use the Dark Side, your emotions…"
"I control myself and my emotions," the man said firmly. There was Power in his voice, but Luminara paid no heed to it. "I follow the path of the Je'daii and my path…"
"Jedi are adherents of the Light Side!" Luminara shouted. "We do not use the Dark Side…"
"You fear it," the Jedi said tiredly. "Superstitiously, with wild terror, you fear it. You turn your fears into mantras that you preach for the rest of your lives. This fear makes you vulnerable. This fear breaks Jedi, making the greatest Jedi into the greatest Sith for millennia! The Order will eventually breed its own Extermination!"
"That is a lie!" Unduli cried out, activating the light blade. "No Jedi would dare raise a hand against fellow members!"
"Are you kidding me?" the Jedi stood up with a jerk. He radiated irritation and anger. "The Dark Side has consumed him!"—it dawned on Luminara. Now, while he was weakened by the confrontation, she had to… "Revan, Malak, Kreia, Freedon Nadd, Exar Kun, Darth Sion, Darth Nihilus, Darth Ruin, Skere Kaan, Githany… I could list for a day what each of them did, falling into darkness! How much pain and war this ancient feud between Sith and Jedi has brought! You, the gifted, don't see how trillions of sentient beings die in your games of the Force. You—both Jedi and Sith—are blind in your confrontation! It's time to put an end to this! The gifted must serve the galaxy, not plunge it into new wars…"
"You have gone mad," Luminara concluded. She felt the Darkness swirling around her. But she did not fear it. She is a Jedi. And the Force is with her today. "I will put an end to your madness…"
"Is it madness?" a cold, emotionless voice rang out behind her. Luminara almost jumped; the phrase was uttered so unexpectedly for her. As if thousands of voices had spoken it.
Slowly turning, the Jedi Master saw before her a dark-blue shimmering figure of a Force ghost. A man in white armor with hands clasped behind his back, pleasant facial features… and amber-colored eyes.
"Sith!" the Jedi said with disgust.
"Those labels again," the ghost smirked. "The narrowness of your thoughts annoyed me even in life… both the first and the second. But that is all in the past. You called me, apprentice, I have come,"—he said the last addressing Dougan standing behind her.
Luminara cursed, realizing she had left a dangerous enemy behind her. Who, furthermore, had disappeared into the Force.
Not particularly hoping for success, the woman began to turn, intending to deliver a glancing blow to the fallen Jedi. But he proved swifter.
The Force Barrier with which he had surrounded himself repelled his own blade. The man snatched his weapon from her hands while simultaneously tripping her.
The Jedi fell onto her back, clinging to the fragments of her confused consciousness with the Force.
"Do you intend to subjugate her?" the ghost inquired. And his voice was satisfied.
"She is a prominent member of the Order, Master," Dougan said. "I am certain she will serve our cause."
"It has long been your own cause, my apprentice," the ghost corrected. "I am merely helping."
"Then help, Vitiate,"—memories of galactic history stirred in the back of Unduli's mind. Memories of a Sith Emperor so ruthless he could hardly be called a living being. "I want to open the truth to her…"
"The truth? Is it not simpler to break her will and make her submissive, as I did with your other Hands?" the ghost smirked.
The man faltered for a moment. Then he spoke firmly.
"She will serve my cause in any case."
The Emperor laughed. And his laughter resembled the cries of pain from billions of innocents killed.
"Wonderful, my apprentice. Go on, open this Jedi's eyes. But when she betrays you, don't say I didn't warn you…"
Luminara managed to take control of her consciousness, but her body failed her. Unable to move a hand or foot, she discovered with horror that her connection to the Force had vanished. In terror, she noticed Dougan kneeling beside her. On her other side stood the Sith ghost, around whom blue-purple lightning was forming.
Dougan slowly removed his face mask, staring at the Jedi with a face that bore little resemblance to what she had seen before. And his eyes were black, as if the Abyss itself were looking at her through the man.
He removed the glove from his hand and placed his palm on her forehead. Smiling, he said:
"It will all be over quickly, Master Unduli."
Next, she was pierced by wild pain, as if her brain were being torn to pieces.
***
The Force within Dougan was too great.
The mental defense she had built for years, honed for decades, he destroyed in moments.
His consciousness penetrated her mind, bringing with it hundreds and thousands of images. Chaotic and structured, clear and misty.
But they all formed into pictures, replacing each other in flashes…
The Clone Wars and the death of thousands of Jedi…
Skywalker's execution of Count Dooku…
Obi-Wan's destruction of the cyborg Grievous…
The deaths of Plo Koon, Aayla Secura, Ki-Adi-Mundi…
Unduli screamed, seeing fearless Republic soldiers executing their commanders… Hundreds and thousands of Jedi died in a single moment… She saw her own body falling in the forests of Kashyyyk, pierced by dozens of blue blaster bolts…
Clones marching in the depths of the Temple, gunning down the few Jedi and Padawans, instructors and mentors…
Her heart broke as soon as she saw the Gate Master Jurokk's head fall from his shoulders… As Shaak Ti fell, pierced through the back by a lightsaber blade…
The massacre of the younglings in the Council chambers… A dark figure in Jedi robes, the very one that killed Jurokk, bathing in the suffering of the younger ones, cutting them all down one by one… Unduli sobbed, feeling the terror in the little hearts, sensing how their killer only grew stronger in his grim resolve…
The duel between the Jedi killer and Serra Keto, the death of Cin Drallig…
Luminara could no longer cry. She saw every death, every one of her friends. She saw the galaxy crumbling. And she realized that all of this was just part of an ancient, well-rehearsed plan. No tears remained. Only emptiness in a broken heart and a tormented soul…
The murder of Kit Fisto. Agen Kolar. Saesee Tiin. The duel of a Sith, whose figure was also hidden, with Mace Windu… Luminara almost rejoiced, seeing how the Master had cornered the Sith, how the Chosen One came to his aid… She exulted, seeing the Jedi raise his sword…
"Master Skywalker, there are too many of them, what are we going to do?" Against her will, the image of a sweet youngling appeared, looking up at the figure of a Jedi… A figure in black robes…
Luminara screamed as soon as her brain realized the horror of what was happening. Again and again, she saw scenes of her friends' deaths in the Temple, the extermination of younglings and Jedi who fell, pierced by Skywalker's blade…
Her scream ended in a wheeze. Her vocal cords could no longer produce sounds, and her eyes had dried up. Spasms of sobbing shook the Mirialan's body, but no tears came.
She saw Windu fly out the window. And she saw the young Skywalker pledge loyalty to the Sith.
She saw the confrontation between the Sith hidden from her and Master Yoda, but she did not believe in his victory. Grim confirmation of her words was found in the Grand Master's shameful flight from the Sith.
Against this background, Obi-Wan's victory on Mustafar looked pale. There he is, the enemy who betrayed them all, exterminated all his loved ones, lying before him, burning in lava. His arms and legs are agonizing, and his nerve endings burn with pain.
Luminara with grim resolve tried to push this stump of a man into the lava with the Force. But she succeeded in nothing. And Obi-Wan, despite her pleas and calls, only silently left…
Weak. Obi-Wan proved incapable of killing his friend, even despite everything he had committed. Millennia of the Order's history were in Kenobi's hands, but he didn't manage. He hesitated, fearing a fall to the Dark Side. He pitied the one who had been his friend, not realizing that before him was only a blind animal.
Deep in Unduli's soul, rage was born. She tried to break out, to scream, seeking to finish what had been started herself. Но не смогла. She is as weak as Kenobi. A Jedi is incapable of killing in a fit of rage, even one who has destroyed all his loved ones and friends. A Jedi is incapable of revenge even for the most painful wounds. A Jedi is incapable of preventing the inevitable.
A Jedi is weak within their framework. And all a Jedi can be is a watchdog for the Senate, which is corrupt or excessively optimistic. Everyone in the Senate seeks only their own benefit. And they all didn't give a damn about the galaxy.
And the Jedi, who swore to be keepers of peace… They betrayed their oaths. They proved too short-sighted. Too stupid. Weak.
The Light brought only Extermination.
Luminara with grim resolve watched the remains of Anakin Skywalker being encased in combat armor. As THAT receives its red-bladed saber… As he and other bastards from the Temple, traitors, hunt their former comrades…
The stream of visions was interrupted.
Luminara lay in absolute darkness, in peace. Trained in the ways of the Force, she understood that visions of the future had just flashed before her. So vivid and distinct that Yoda himself could not have disputed them. Logical and objective.
The Jedi had come to an end. The Sith would seize the galaxy, exterminating the servants of the Light.
"This will not happen if you join me,"—the image of Dougan—encased in armor, with his face hidden by a mask, appeared beside her.
A map of the galaxy appeared before them, the very one that demonstrates the operational situation in the Temple. And the galaxy on it was burning with the fire of war.
"The Sith will divide the Jedi and exterminate them; that is a fact," he stated. "But we are capable of saving those we can. Those who are ready to return to the path of the Je'daii, reclaim the One Force, and put an end to the feuds in the galaxy."
"Under your leadership, of course," the Jedi noted.
"Exactly so," the Jedi confirmed. "The galaxy needs a strong hand. A strong ruler and an Order of trained gifted ones. Thousands of wars and battles lie ahead. One day the galaxy will be subjected to an invasion from outside. And democracy is not the system for bringing peace and prosperity to the galaxy."
"That is Sith despotism," Luminara noted indifferently. "Jedi did not seek to rule…"
"And how many Jedi Chancellors have ruled the Republic?" the Jedi inquired.
Unduli remained silent. Too many to claim non-interference.
"We will build a strong new state," the Jedi continued. "We will return to the path of the Je'daii and restore the natural course of things in the galaxy."
"And if not?"
"Are you ready to leave everything as it is now?"
"No."
"In my view, it is better to die trying than to sit and wait for extermination," the Jedi declared.
Luminara looked at the galaxy map once more. Looking closely, she noted several planets and regions highlighted in black-silver. A color never used to mark the positions of any of the warring sides in this conflict.
"You've already started, haven't you?…"
"My plan is in full swing, Luminara," the man admitted. "Just as the Chancellor needs advisors, I need you and those who are ready to accept a new vision. Who are ready to create the core of a new Order. Who are ready to fight for a true future for the galaxy."
The Mirialan looked at the galaxy with indifference, then at the black figure in armor.
Her world was destroyed. Her future, her life would end in the slums of Kashyyyk.
And Dougan… Is he truly capable of changing the fates of trillions? Luminara froze, listening to herself. The Force, which she surprisingly discovered around her, was silent. As if that nightmare had never happened.
Her eyes opened, staring into the star-filled sky. She was lying on the coarse sand of Tatooine.
Rising, she saw Dougan standing with his back to her, looking at the sand dunes. He paid no attention to her. And the ghost was long gone.
The Mirialan silently rose to her feet. A lightsaber hilt lay in the sand. Drawing it to her with the Force, the girl took a step toward the figure.
The choice was made. And there was no further way back.
Dougan turned, drawn by the sound of an activating lightsaber. Staring at the emerald blade Master Unduli was admiring, he remained silent, watching her reaction.
Finally, having enjoyed the sight, Unduli deactivated the blade.
Kneeling on one knee before the figure encased in ancient armor, she extended the hilt of the lightsaber left for her, bowing her head down.
"I swear loyalty to your teaching, Master…"
***
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