Value Loyalty Above All Else [Star Wars]

Vette hopped on her private shuttle as her Valkyries joined her, leaving the Enosis for her own ship. A slightly bigger one, this time, and with the ability to actually defend itself properly, but her resources were still mostly tied up on Ryloth. Not that she was complaining.

The estimated profit margins alone would make it worth it ten times over, nevermind all the eager recruits it would bring. Snubbing the hutts like that felt good too, and their lack of proper fleet was really showing. Not like they could build one with the Republic and Empire around, anyway.

No way would either side allow them to arm themselves.

So for all their supposed power, the fear and terror they brought, she found them gleefully brittle.

"And then their ships achieved air supremacy, and an estimated sixty thousand people died. Only a third of those were active rebels." Dorka finished, making Amelia wince. Vette slowed, deja-vue washing over her. "It's hard fighting, I'll tell you that. Not that the twi'leks are giving up. Don't think I've ever seen people bounce back that quickly from disaster."

Vette felt a surprisingly strong surge of pride, grinning. "Call it an evolutionary trait. Still alive, Dorka?"

"Unfortunately. I heard you got your hands on mandalorian armor."

It was always hard to see what that man was thinking, especially over holo like this, but she wagered on disapproval being part of it. "Then you also heard one of those is on its way to you as a bonus. The rest is being sold back to mandalore, actually. Turns out they pay the most for acquired suits."

"Yet one is missing."

Amelia tensed, though she hid it well. Vette raised an eyebrow. "Went to Morgan. You know, the sith Lord named Caro? You're very welcome to put in a formal complaint. I could even arrange a meeting in person, if you'd like?"

"That won't be necessary." The man backtracked, suppressing the flinch of fear well enough she only just caught it. The news about him killing five sith Lords was well and truly out there, now, almost to the point that she got tired of hearing about it. Still, sure helped his reputation. "Might be a good idea to reforge it if you can find a smith. My people are not kind to the uninitiated wearing our armor, not even Lords."

"Already done. You were discussing how I was wrong about the hutts?"

He ignored the remark, holding up a datapad. At least his background looked more stable, this time. Just a few weeks ago he'd been in huts and caves, but this looked like an official government building. Vette peeked at the notes Amelia had made, skimming through most, and waved at them. Her aide smiled. "I'll send over a summarized report after we are done, ma'am. Captain Misna is looking for you."

"Sounds like fun. Jess probably wants to talk about the new recruits."

She left them to it, unneeded, and would have been worried about that fact if it wasn't those two. Amelia found this far too homelike, Jaesa's words, to act against her and Dorka respected strength. He might be running an army these days, but he knew he couldn't win against her in a fair fight.

And mandalorians were all about honor. Even if he set it aside, escalation didn't favor him either. One word and Morgan would snap his neck, they both knew that. Jaesa's confirmation that the man liked fighting, and pretty much nothing else, helped. Vette's job these days involved less combat and more management.

He had everything to lose, and nothing to gain, by turning on her. The perfect place for high ranked minions.

And speaking of minions, she quietly stepped over to the railing. Near a hundred Valkyries were crowded down below, broken up into squads with a senior as their leader, and she looked them over. New, most of them, but they fit the mold.

Trouble makers. Killers. Thieves and former slaves and more. All with less than happy pasts, all having no attachments keeping them centered. She could already see some of them bonding, sharing stories as they cleaned gear or ate, and most looked content.

The selection process hadn't been easy, that she had ensured. They needed a certain level of skill to get this far, no matter their experience, but they delivered. Now they were all hers, though she knew a few would disappoint.

You can't take people with trauma and expect them to just get over it, after all. Some would snap, though the extensive mental screenings would limit that, and others would realize this isn't what they thought and quit.

But most would be hers, and she was going to mold them into something great. Something fierce. Her very own clan of cutthroats and killers, with her as the queen. Oh yes, she most certainly liked the sound of that.

"Listen up." She barked, making the room quiet. The new recruits shot up at attention, the veterans standing. "Most of you are new here, so I'll keep this short. We're going to kill evil bastards, steal their stuff and have fun doing it. Gear up, we leave in twenty."

They scrambled as she went to do the same, stroking her Siantide blaster with glee. She could take it for a proper test run at last, not just shooting reinforced targets and keeping it locked away. Her Phrik vest and electro staff were next, shooting a look at the last one. She'd trained with it, of course, but so far she preferred knives. Bit of a waste of the material, but then again she was fabulously wealthy. She could afford it.

She was watching Quesh come closer not half an hour later, leading four shuttles as they descended down to the planet. Their target was a refinery belonging to some Imperial company, the last step before producing highly valuable stimulants. Stuff that sold like air and water, and she was more than happy to provide. More money meant more funding, more recruits and bribes and intel. More success, for let it never be said throwing credits at a problem didn't help.

That only failed if you were spectacularly bad at managing people. Or creating entertainment. Public opinion was famously unreliable.

She had them land a distance away from the place, more than happy Morgan had managed to create a batch of inoculations for her. Stealing them would have been fun, but this was easier. Her team-leaders approached as she stretched.

"Now then, the goal is twofold. Take as many stimulants as possible, naturally, and evaluate your squads. I want a report on each member, their skills and shortcomings, on my desk by evening. Jess, are they properly geared?"

"Ma'am." Her captain replied. "I had them recheck on the flight over. Timeframe?"

Vette wiggled her hand. "Fifteen minutes? This is a thievery job first and foremost, I don't really care about dead Imps or trashed machinery. Have the pilots sneak behind us to load the goods."

She left them to it as she went ahead, trusting Jess to keep them on mission. Her job, really, was to do some testing. Soften them up a little. Her legs devoured distance until she came to the fence signaling company ground, raising her eyebrow.

Silent or fast? Fast. She drew her regular blaster, opening a hole with a few shots. Alarms started blaring, of course, but she was already through and away by the time security arrived. She bounded to an entrance, tried the handle, and found it locked. She shot the lock, doing little more than heat the mental.

Siantide, on the other hand, went straight through. Vette giggled, opening and closing the door as she stalked inside. Not much to see, at first. Boring hallways filled with boring people, none of which looked like slaves to her. Probably needed skills too expensive to teach the unwilling.

Then, as she rounded a corner, she found someone to play with. Two someones, actually. Guards with their weapons raised and expressions closed, though clearly not soldiers. Still, they snapped their weapons to her cleanly enough. She smiled. "Hello! I'm here t-"

They opened fire, which was very rude and pretty smart, so she ducked back. "Kill shots, really? You realize that just escalates the situation, right?"

"Surrender or be neutralized." One of them called. "Prisoners will be sentenced to five years hard labor. Resistance will be met with deadly force."

Vette shrugged, stepping twice. Their first shots went wide, having already moved past their aim, and her bolts caught them in the chest. Siantide went straight through again, perhaps unsurprisingly, but her eyes still widened. "That's some serious power, my lovelies. Perhaps a little unworthy for trigger happy guards."

She holstered the blaster, drawing her normal one instead, and continued stalking. Miraka's people had stolen the blueprint of the place, her slicer wasn't that busy helping free Ryloth, but first hand information was always good. So she sent what she found back to her Valkyries, which, by the sound of it, had started their own party.

Vette shot a few cameras, forcing them to divert personnel to deal with her, and she nodded. Her softening-responsibilities were taken care of, and since she was the boss no one could complain, she got back to testing.

Security doors melted, guards fled as she tore through them, and the few fancy droids they sent to kill her collapsed after a single shot. The Siantide blaster went back on her hip, a wide smile on her face. Those must have been at least half a million each.

"Morgan deserves something nice." Vette decided, tapping the blaster. "Something that I can't screw up. Flowers? Damn but you're hard to shop for."

The technician coming with the droids rapidly pressed more buttons, backing away and ignoring her, and Vette shrugged. "I'll think of something. You, glasses. Those machines so shit someone had to escort them?"

"Prototypes." The man stuttered, giving up and dropping his datapad. "Please, I. This wasn't. I don't want to die."

"Then run. Quickly, before I shoot you anyway."

He ran, Vette checking the time. "Right, eight more minutes. Bully the boss? Bully the boss."

She skipped over to his office, dodging out of the way as patrols rushed outside. Busy dealing with her people, no doubt. It left the interior nice and enemy free, and she kicked the door when she arrived.

Which, to her disappointment, didn't so much as groan. She shot it instead, all but vaporizing the lock again. The man inside flinched back, two guards opening fire.

Vette stepped back and to the side, avoiding the predictable shots, and returned fire when they paused. The man had hidden behind his desk, flinching as his guards dropped and muttering something about retirement. She ignored him. Because, in the corner, she found something interesting.

"Is that hooked up to your company's mainframe?" She asked, curious. The man didn't reply, making her kick the desk. "Kindly answer."

"Y-Yes!"

She put her datapad next to it, running the program Miraka had given her. "Cool. Don't worry, I'm just stealing your tightly guarded refining method. Should sell for, what? Hundred and fifty million? More?"

"Our proprietary, rigorously safeguarded refinement process." He corrected, sounding very much like he regretted opening his mouth. "It. Please don't hurt me?"

Vette smiled as the program finished, turning sharply and walking back out again. "I won't. This will hurt more than any physical pain I can give you anyway. Bye!"

"Goodbye?" The man replied, confusion warring with relief. "T. Thank you?"

She turned her head, half shouting as she moved out of earshot. "Thank yourself! Don't use slaves, don't get shot. Inform your fellows."

Back outside again, the guards were easy to avoid in their disorganized state, she contacted her favorite slicer. Miraka picked up after a few moments, voice slightly blurry. Even with her range boosters, they were far apart.

"Yes?"

"Miraka, you shut-in. Need a job done."

"What kind?" She replied, tone wary. "I told you to bother Kip if you needed something."

"Your prodigy is good, but this needs the best. Ran that hacker tool you gave me, infiltrated a company's servers. Need you to rob them blind. And to remove my presence from their security. No need to have my pretty face plastered all over the net. Just an expression, of course. I was wearing my helmet."

Miraka grunted. "That's standard. You're unpredictable to the point I have an algorithm running to search and destroy any data that looks even remotely like it belongs to you. What info are you looking for?"

"Anything we can sell." Vette shrugged. "Trade secrets, blackmail, whatever."

"Done. If you need anything else, talk to Kip. I'm somewhat busy messing with the coordination between the mercs hired by the hutts. You know, freeing your homeworld and all? Still wonder why you aren't there."

Vette shrugged. "One planet, in one system, isn't so grand. If you lot can't even do that without my supervision then we have bigger problems anyway. Besides, I'm making lots of money. Don't tell me you didn't like the budget increase."

"You gave Dorka more." The slicer complained, the whine in her tone faker than normal. She'd been maturing, no matter how much she disliked it. "And I know about your finances, before you lie. I'm the one making sure Medinal stays above board even when you inject millions of stolen credits."

"My completely-legitimate corporation thanks you for your service. I thought you were busy?"

The line cut, making Vette grin, and she ambled back to her people. Who, after doing a headcount and finding none of them dead, she joined. Jess briefed her about that thing she wanted to talk about, giving her report besides, and before long she was talking with smugglers and contacts to take the goods off her hands.

Another forty or so million, those chems sure sold nicely, and she worked as day turned into night. Training with the Valkyries, the new ones needed to feel why she was the boss, and then more paper pushing. Helping Jess reorganize a squad that didn't work well, private sparring with some twit that believed herself deserving of higher rank, and Vette groaned as her alarm sounded distressingly early the next morning.

Waking up in bed without Morgan was ever disappointing, reluctantly leaving her Siantide blaster locked away almost as much, and her datapad pinged as she was reading through Amelia's report on Ryloth.

"A lunch date?" She mumbled, narrowing her eyes. Morgan sounded off, even through text, which means something not-so-great had happened. Vette mentally reorganized her day to make time, eyebrow rising further when she saw two jedi were invited. "Interesting. I think they are the ones Bundu introduced? Chiss and zabrak?"

No one answered, mostly because she was alone, and she shrugged off the doubts to her sanity with practiced ease. Food, watching Morgan spar and needling jedi? Sounded like fun.

Which, as she commandeered a shuttle and watched the console spoof itself to look like the vessel belonged, proved to possess something of a snag. Not at first, inspecting the Imperial controlled park and grumbling when she saw she arrived early, but a little after that.

Specifically, when two jedi dropped from the building. Two jedi that weren't invited.

"Very smooth." She praised, cursing herself. A distress signal was activated and her backup would be running, but it had taken her at least half an hour to get here. "The cloaks are a bit much, but other than that? Intimidating, no witnesses, ominous silence. High marks for the both of you."

"You will come with us for questioning."

The jedi seemed very sure of himself, which was fair, but then again Vette didn't much like authority. Not this kind, anyway. "Nah. Say, I'll give you a hint if you answer me a question. Are you the same bunch that was on Ryloth? Cause I'll feel bad killing you if you helped free my people."

"You do not possess the capability to harm us." The other one shuffled, a hint of her face peaking through. "Do not resist. You will tell us about the death of padawan Oberon."

Vette huffed, keeping her posture relaxed. No need to interrupt the time-buying banter. "You green jedi and your utter lack of practicality. You know he was recruited by some jedi Master for black ops purposes, right? Flown light-years away to help kill someone that never even set foot on Corellia? Bah, nevermind. I think I have my answer, anyway. You don't fit the profile of the ones on Ryloth."

"You will come with us."

"You keep saying that. Why haven't you acted, I wonder? Could it be a smidge of doubt? Uncertainty about all the sith on the planet? Bravo for sneaking in here in the first place, must be pretty stealthy. Still, I think your time has run out."

Morgan walked out of the shadows with perfect timing, making her proud, and was dressed in civilian clothes without a lightsaber visible. The jedi turned, one keeping his eyes on her as the woman shifted her stance. "Hold. Official business, move along."

"This planet is a gray area concerning Republic or Imperial law." He corrected, tone placid. "No one has anything official until one side wins. Now, be a proper jedi and look. My suppression isn't that advanced."

Vette grinned as they did, any thought about apprehending her vanishing from their minds. The man put his hand on the woman's shoulder, tugging her back, but she spoke before he could get her to retreat. "Only three sith on the planet that could be. Not a devaronian, nor wearing a breathing mask. Lord Caro."

"At your service." He bowed theatrically, somewhat off-putting by the way his smile didn't reach his eyes. "Now run along, before I decide to take offense and make a hunt out of it. The Republic has no authority here."

They went, Vette bounding up to him with a smile. "My anonymity is going to take a hit, that's for sure. Thanks for the rescue. Crazy few days, huh?"

"I could assign some sith." He offered, relaxing. "The type that knows how to blend in, keep a low profile. Would make me feel better."

"And ruin my public persona something fierce when the jedi find out. No, I'll deal with it. I'm not exactly as kidnappable as I was on Tatooine. Case in point, I should probably tell my guard they can go back home. Don't think you'll get out of telling me what's wrong, though."

Morgan smiled, stress returning to his posture. She tapped a quick message as he talked. "Got invited, more like summoned, by the thing I keep encountering. Korriban, Nar Shaddaa, now here. A shapeshifter of unknown and terrifying levels of power, who was a little annoyed about my innate resistance. Probably why he didn't talk like he normally did, nor why I could. Others, which resemble him if far less powerful, can't either."

"And so you decided training those two took priority?" She asked, pointing. The chiss and zabrak had appeared shortly after the other jedi had left, making her frown. "I'm somewhat worried about how all these jedi can just sneak around."

"I needed time to center myself, think things through. And now that I'm looking for it, no they can't. Felt them some minutes ago, they've been hanging back. Right around the time I did an area scan and found you very close to two unidentified Light side users."

She snapped her fingers, letting vindication creep into her expression. "Ah, so your timing isn't supernaturally good. Figured. Came running for little old me?"

"I'll always come running for you." He replied distractedly, pulling out a communicator. Vette smiled through a thrill of warmth. "Quinn, yes. Get the men ready to leave. Belsavis is our target, and I'd like to get there before the Empire secures their foothold properly. Tell Kala to avoid assaulting Republic ships, if she can, but there's a target there that needs to die."

Vette wiggled, playing up curiosity to make him smile. "This based on actionable intel?"

"Yup." Actionable meaning something he shouldn't know, but did. She nodded as Morgan shrugged. "I'll tell you later. Gasnic, Kell. Please join us."

The jedi pair did, and they surprised her by giving a shallow bow. She had been under the impression they'd been uncertain, or at least undecided, but Morgan didn't seem surprised. Then again, he usually didn't. Not in public. "Lord Caro. Bundu told us a tale, one that the jedi High Council is taking note of. Judging by the way probes fail to pierce skin, I understand it to be true."

"And what tale would that be, exactly?" He asked, raising an eyebrow. Vette ambled over to the shadows he'd stalked out of, finding a pack of lunch waiting. Morgan's voice drifted over. "Not to put too fine a point on it, but I've been doing quite a few things lately."

"The slaughter of five sith Lords."

Her Morgan sighed as she liberated freshly made sandwiches. Bought, which was a shame, but still good. "I'm getting somewhat tired of hearing that phrase, though I should have guessed. Is it making our friends on the Council less or more likely to order my death?"

"Unknown." Kell shrugged. "But it has made us reevaluate our priorities. Master Argrava pointed out your time is growing more limited, and as such the deal we made might get re-evaluated."

Vette took another bite as Morgan snorted. "Blunt, but not untrue. When did Bundu get promoted?"

"Our Order recognized his potential after Taris, especially his rescue of the War Trust. He did not correct them on the assumption, nor does he seem to care about the title. We are not doing well."

"We as in the two of us or we as in your Order of shady assassin's?"

The zabrak replied, tone nearly emotionless. "Our Order. We as a pair are exploring new avenues in our relationship."

"Congratulations?" Morgan ventured, making her snort. "Regardless, I am not so fond of bowing and honorifics. Now, show me your progress. I'm sure Bundu hasn't failed when guiding you through the basics."

"To clarify, we are not romantically involved."

"I really don't care." He replied, the zabrak nodding. "I mean that as nicely as possible, but I really don't. What you do, or don't do, when it comes to that doesn't concern me."

The group walked over to a table, Vette joining them while reluctantly sharing the food, and leaned back as the jedi pair closed their eyes. Morgan got that look to him which meant he wasn't really paying attention, like he was looking through you, and another sandwich vanished before he snapped out of it.

Not exactly the romantic picnic she'd been imagining, but watching him train assassins was a close second.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

Morgan smiled as Vette waved goodbye, her transport taking off. That had been more fun than he thought, working quite well to take his mind off things. Which, in turn, let him plan for the visit with the shapeshifter.

Someone he suspected he already knew.

Which meant preparation had to be made, though in truth there was little he could do. The shapeshifter held more power than seemed reasonable, nevermind being immune to physical damage, so attacking was off the table before it could even be entertained. Not that he really wanted to.

But there was one thing he could do. The Other that had curled around him last time had provided some relief, if not quite offering protection, so bringing it again seemed logical. Fortunately, it was happy enough to do so. Happy in a certain sense, anyway. The response he got when he asked had been more along the line of hunt-partners.

He'd take it.

Though, before even that, he had a holocron to examine. It would be far too suspicious if it offered any help, of course, but even so it was a distraction. A dangling thread about why he was here, how he was here, and maybe even what brought him here. Or how he could get back.

Well, no time like the present.

The holocron, secured and hidden in his bag, gently floated over as he called it. Even those without advanced telekinesis could move those things, infused with the Force as they were, but this one seemed brittle. Old even for a galaxy in which things could be near immortal.

The Other sniffed it, growing bored quickly, as Morgan looked at the cube. The question was, did he want to go home? He'd once affirmed not, the change was too jarring to slide into his old life and he didn't want to abandon this one regardless, but now that he had the choice? Or, at the very least, a shadow of one?

"No."

Morgan interfaced with it, because it could hold knowledge he might not foresee, but no. Returning to his old life, as novel as it would be, wasn't something he wanted. His awareness expanded with that in mind, reaching through the vast stores of information within, and he exhaled.

It wasn't much. Oh, it was nearly overwhelming, crushing down with more raw information he could process in a week, but someone else had already done so. At the very start a message had been written, as close an interpretation as any, warning of the fact. How she'd spend two years digging for any scrap of intel that wasn't stone-cold, finding nothing but long dead sources or evidence eroded by time.

So now he could start the hunt over again, perhaps find others like him, but the chances of them being alive were slim. A rather rare phenomenon, apparently, and while it held a disproportionate amount of Force sensitives most lived and died quietly. Others were only theorized, speaking strange languages and referring to stranger events, but never confirmed.

Only four in the holocron had admitted to the fact, two of which were declared insane. The rest had been smart enough to keep silent, or lucky enough the people they told hadn't held it against them.

More interesting was the scant recordings of their supposed home worlds, none of which he recognized. Even accounting for language and time, he was pretty sure there hadn't been sapient people on Earth back when it was in its Pangea period.

He disconnected with a grunt, tucking the thing away. He'd analyze it, because he didn't really see a reason not to, but there would be no great chase across the galaxy. He had more pressing matters, for one, and he wasn't sure he cared enough.

Which just left his meeting with the shapeshifter.

It wasn't far, really. Just inconveniently located. A place few would disturb them, fair enough, but also one he needed to use the Force to reach. Which, the same as using a transporter, would draw attention. Not much, his stealth slowly but steadily getting smoother, but all the same. He had to slow down, take care he wasn't followed and generally stay under the radar.

The Other shifted its focus as he slowed, though not because of difficult terrain. If he was right, and considering he might not be, maybe it wasn't smart to meet the thing alone. Or at all, for that matter. The latter wasn't going to happen, the shapeshifter had more than demonstrated its ability to ignore distance, but with Lana and Soft Voice at his side he might stand a chance to run.

Or it would just disassemble them atom by atom regardless, which was a distinct possibility. Morgan took a breath, reassuring the Other he had not gone far-hunt-distant-away and calmed himself. Even if he was right there wasn't really any other choice, and if he played it right he might receive another boon. Not likely, perhaps, but it had saved his life on Nar Shaddaa.

Not that it had felt like it at the time. Even crippled Rathari had been one hell of a fight. One he had needed allies to finish, at that.

Now he was purposely keeping them away, for three frogs could no more fight a wolf than one. Morgan snorted, reaching out and petting the Other as he mocked himself. Really, this was unbecoming. The shapeshifter hadn't hurt him the last two times, it stood to reason he wouldn't do this time either.

What wolf eats frogs?

"A hungry one." He muttered, soothing the Other as it startled. Not used to being petted, apparently. "It's alright. Just going to meet God, I'm sure it's in a good mood."

He received no response, he got moving again, and the abandoned mine serving as their meeting point stretched out before him. Deep, too, though little of it could be seen from above ground. To his surprise, the deeper he went the stronger the Force became, feeling much like some places of Korriban did. As Tatooine had.

Special sites where the Force thickened and meditation was elevated, allowing for sights usually only reserved for the strongest of drugs. Without, of course, damaging the body. Much.

Best not to take those without a strong sense of self.

Morgan halted as he came to a dead end some minutes later, distance being nothing to someone with enhanced speed, and he tilted his head. This, as far as he could tell, was the place. The memory of it had been somewhat vague, like a painting of half remembered details, but it felt right. Strong.

He sat when nothing came to greet him, folding his legs as he slowed his breathing. There was something here, something old, but as he stretched out his senses it faded away. Almost as if it had never been.

But it had, even if his sight insisted it hadn't. Morgan drew back, unfocusing his vision as he closed his eyes. Seeing with the Force, even with all his practice, still felt alien at times. But, as much as regular vision differed, they held some things in common. Such as being drawn to movement, instinct guiding direction rather than logic.

The smoke, for it had been that, flickered slightly. Moved away, disappearing as he tried to look at it. He drew back again, starting over.

Again and again it fluttered from his grasp, but each time he came closer. The shadow became more distinct even as it turned transparent, physical concepts holding less and less sway as he dived deeper.

Then, with a groan, the Force parted. Like a blanket ripped away from the window, letting the full might of the sun stream into the eye. Morgan fought not to flinch away, the Other curling tighter as it trembled. One second then two, feeling like hours, before it dimmed.

"Well, at least I didn't raise a coward." The shapeshifter ground out, his voice sounding so very unnatural. It smoothed out as he continued speaking, rough but no longer belonging to stone and rock. "You did me a service, even if your Soul-Tempering required me to take quasi-physical form. The universe doesn't like that, not at all. Not even half buried in the Force."

Morgan blinked away spots that didn't exist, the shapeshifter growing more distinct. Half human, though the details were hazy enough he couldn't tell what the other half was. "Apologies. It was necessary."

"For what? Ascendance is not done by accident."

"Survival." Morgan took a moment, tightening the Force around himself as the shapeshifter's presence continued to grow. "You're Teacher, aren't you?"

The thing laughed, briefly slipping back to sounding like fire and lightning. "I care not what name you gave that failure of an experiment. Centuries it cost me, held back by a sliver of soul still residing in that thing. Centuries more had you not forced it to stress its container. No, my name was Lord Naga Sadow. Dark Lord of the Sith."

"I first met you in the tomb of Marka Ragnos." Morgan pointed out, frowning. "Slew your hound, which should not have been there."

"I go where I please. Do as I please. My Enakus was chained to a place few understood, following dogma as faulty as those of jedi. Zealous cultists have their uses, but only if you are there to lead them. To mold them. But I am not here to speak of when you were weak. Blind. When you stumbled around feeling so sure you knew what the future held."

Morgan startled, only just able to suppress his reaction. "Pardon?"

"I know what my holocron knows." Naga Sadow said, irritation growing. "Do not think I have grown as weak as that thing claiming to be me. Raised by my shadow you might be, you are my apprentice. Mine to command."

Morgan emptied his mind, drawing deep from the calm and serenity of his soul. "No."

"No?" The Force tightened around him, pressing down and down until the pressure nearly shattered his defenses. "You think a newborn Half-Ascendant can stand against me? That you are my equal?"

Speaking through clenched teeth, and letting go of breath that wasn't really there, Morgan shook his head. "I am not. You can kill me, I know that. But I was apprenticed to Teacher, a man that taught me everything he knew. Guided me, trained me. Trusted me. You are not him, and I do not owe you fealty."

Another increase, the Other whining as it was slowly pressed away, before it vanished. Morgan felt like staggering, even if no muscle had been moved. Naga Sadow smiled, pleased. "Good. A strong will is required for any task, especially conquest. Sit with me, Lord Caro."

Morgan realized he had legs, a concept briefly forgotten, and sat as the Emperor did. The man seemed to freeze a moment, growing sharper in detail. The Other around his soul relaxed slightly as no more violence seemed incoming, and he sent it a wave of thanks. Brave thing, if that concept applied. He wasn't sure.

"If you know what Teacher knew…"

"Then I know you have had a vision of the future, yes. Not an uncommon occurrence. The fact you seem unable to touch the threads of fate at will is disappointing, but not unexpected. A vanishingly rare ability, almost as much as that of your apprentice. What I wouldn't have done to rid myself of spies and traitors."

"You don't care?"

Naga Sadow shrugged. "I have moved on, especially now that my soul is whole again. The holocron was a failed experiment, mark my words. Imbuing my soul was but a test, creating a copy to serve my needs. A fake death had to be devised, of course, but everything seemed to progress well. Then I did not realize a piece of me stayed behind, locked away, until it found its way to Korriban, and got stuck."

"Why not take him? Kill him?"

"I would have liked to. But the main academy is no place for those such as me, not with the Dark Council so close. Alone they are rather pitiful, but combined I will admit they possess a certain raw power. After it took you as an apprentice it hid on instinct, and my mind was not well. Distracted, moving from one subject to the next outside my control."

Morgan contemplated arguing, briefly, before nodding. "So what changed?"

"Rephrase."

"Why could you find me now?" He clarified. "Teacher didn't know we were going to Quesh."

"Now that my mind is refocused there are very few individuals that could hide from me. Tenebrae is the only one that would be familiar to you, though there are a few others."

"I'm not particularly keen to anger a millennia old sith. Not quite yet."

Naga Sadow waved his hand dismissively. "The man is too afraid of death. It cripples him, limits his options. Such raw power, yet he holds a lesser understanding of the Other than even you. He fortified his soul, even controls it to a decree, yet dares not manipulate it. Covets power yet holds no vision for when all is his. I never did understand what Ragnos saw in him."

"This conversation is taking a distressing turn."

The man didn't smile, though neither did he seem upset. More tempered than expected, yet not the man Teacher was. Morgan pushed down the surge of sadness as Naga Sadow replied. "I sought to rule this galaxy, now you seek the same. Dress it up as you please, to enact change you will have to assume control. This means men like him, and perhaps more, will try to kill you. Your resistance is a good, if annoying, step. More will be required. Much more."

"Don't suppose you have any arcane wisdom to share?"

"The holocron was a perfect copy, that I did not fail in, so do not test my patience. You have already received more of my knowledge than I have shared with any. The path to power is not built on borrowed bricks."

"Then." Morgan paused, too confused to be annoyed. "Then why am I here?"

"Because you have aided me, and I wished to attempt an experiment. When I absorbed my holocron memories came with it, though I pruned much. Years of useless contemplation, lessons and ideas unneeded for one without physical form. But it did raise you. A loyal, well trained apprentice. One who did not wish to rebel against the Master, though I suppose its inability to stand in your way played a part."

"What kind of experiment?"

"Do not sound so cautious, I am not so unpredictable as I was. Your hand."

Morgan gave it, curiosity warring with wariness. "He gave trust, and I gave it in return. There is no trick to understand. No technique to copy."

"Of course there is. Fleshcrafting, though a subset of proper Alchemy, is nonetheless a powerful craft. You do not possess any knowledge on the whole, nor do you wish to, yet with it alone you rose higher than was expected. But he was a shadow of a man, nevermind my equal. Defend."

He buckled as every nerve in his body came alive, screaming death and pain straight into his mind. It was a short and brutal reminder he still possessed a body, jolting back to full consciousness and seeing his hand had become hazy.

Morgan focused past the pain for a moment, mostly out of instinct, and with it he grabbed hold over his mind. Slammed down mental shields and folded a bundle of nerves, bringing down the agony from overwhelming to horrid. In that time most of his right arm, the one given to Naga Sadow, had turned blackened.

A parody of his own training he gave to his apprentices. Morgan flooded the connection with his own presence, finding the Emperor's control less absolute than expected. He fought against it, slowly pushing the man back, but as he passed the elbow it halted.

Looking at the man revealed a curious face watching the struggle, Naga Sadow was turning out nothing like expected, and Morgan resisted a push by the skin of his teeth. Infected his own arm with rabid cell growth, threatening to spread to his adversary, and took the moment of distraction to collapse the attack.

Morgan tried to push, finding very little success, and realized they were in a stalemate. Resistance interfered with control, small threads snapping easier and moving slower, and it was his body. Combined it gave him an advantage, though only enough to resist.

Naga Sadow pulled back his hand, nodding thoughtfully. "Interesting."

"How was that a gift?" Morgan asked, turning annoyance into curiosity at the last moment. "You're more powerful and skilled, we both knew that already."

"Don't be obstinate. Your body was assimilating into the Force, that Other of yours not helping matters, and now you have firsthand experience with resisting interference from the powerful. Time is strange here, but we battled for near a full day. Little time has passed in the physical world, before you ask."

He looked, startled, finding the man was right. The Other was blinking at him, confusion and disappointment all but oozing out of the thing. "I thought he liked me?"

"It does. Few can boast that, though don't ever forget what they are. It saw you become like them, joining them, so it helped you along. Different ideals, warped perspectives. Keep an eye on that. You are not ready for what lies beyond."

Morgan swallowed, nodding. "Thank you. I am still not used to the warping of reality when going this deep."

"I would be very surprised if you were." Naga Sadow replied, tone on the dry side. "This is twice as deep, to use your wildly inaccurate term, as you have ever gone before? I would not recommend doing so again before practicing for several decades. Your time, I should stress, not mine."

"Right. To press my luck, what's an Ascendant?"

A noise emerged from the man's mouth that rang in Morgan's ears, words and language becoming garbled as it entered his brain. Thought halted when his mind couldn't make sense of it, coming to with a splitting headache. "I would think you prefer to be left in the dark for now."

"Yeah." Morgan soothed the pain and wiped the blood from his eyes, straightening. "Probably forever."

"You will change your mind after a few centuries. Most of reality is so very mundane, and the Force can be paradise for those with the will to shape it."

"Must be lonely."

Naga Sadow raised an eyebrow. "Whoever said I was alone? My physical body might be at peace, the occasional scavenger aside, but my mind is unlocked. I sought to bring with me those I treasured, those needed to keep my focus engaged. I will admit they have suffered from my scattered focus, but now I can rebuild what was lost."

"Don't suppose that will take place in this galaxy?"

"No." The man smiled almost mockingly, eyes flickering to look around them. "It certainly will not. In fact, this will be the last time we speak. The fabric of the universe is thickening, pushing me out and away, and to try again would see it respond quicker. Faster. Like a reflex, the body growing immune to disease by developing antibodies."

Morgan nodded, finding that a surprisingly sad statement. "Perhaps for the best. How long until you can't hold back, I can't believe I'm saying this, the universe?"

"I am Naga Sadow." The man answered. "There is no limit to my power."

"That mean you have time for another practice round, then?"

"You are a greedy, arrogant child. Hand."

He gave it, suppressing a smile as the man set his nervous system on fire again. He was quicker to suppress the pain, even managing to hold some perspective on time-passed, but the stalemate of the last time was broken as they fought.

It seemed he managed to irritate the old ghost. Fun.

Less fun when the man nearly turned his brain to slush, though he was fairly sure it was just a bluff. Mostly. Morgan managed to beat it back by cutting off his arm, severing the connection and forcing his training partner to bridge the gap himself. The time he lost doing so let him regain lost ground, idly fusing his arm back to his shoulder.

Much, much easier than regrowing the damn thing.

Then he proceeded to lose track of time again, nearly lost one of his hearts when the man reversed his blood and caused pressure to build, and he scolded the Other as it tried to make him go hazy.

Morgan groaned as he reset his body for the ninth time, doing it slowly and finding that helped him remember he had one. Naga Sadow was turning away, focussed on something he couldn't see. "You know, I imagined this going poorly."

"I have channeled your relationship with Teacher to a near unhealthy decree in an effort to evaluate progress under amiable circumstances. Had this not been the case I would have killed you four times over for your insolence."

"If you say so." Morgan replied, rolling his eyes backwards into his skull. Good, no nerve damage. Honestly, making him go blind. It had reminded him he still had regular sight, but still. "I'll take it your unlimited power is reaching its limits? With the way you keep looking over at nothing, I mean."

Naga Sadow narrowed his eyes, scoffing. "You are blind for one with the ability to see the true nature of the Force."

"Arrogance is a pitfall I'm not eager to step on. If you need to go, you need to go."

"A wi-" The man paused, growing translucent. "An appropriate decision. Go and conquer the stars, young one. Sooner or later you'll figure out it is but the first step."

The old Dark Lord of the sith faded, leaving Morgan to stare at nothing. A nothing that he realized was growing, the stabilizing presence of the man's power gone. The Other didn't seem to mind, why would he, but he himself would much rather not.

A thought and it guided him to a shallower pool, faster than he'd be able to do on his own, and Morgan spluttered as air entered his lungs. He waved weakly as the strain caught up with him, the Other disappearing, and he groaned again as pain shot up through his core.

That had been rather taxing on his reserves, no matter how deep he was in the Force. Morgan breathed through the very uncomfortable feeling, closing his eyes and leaning back. He fell as nothing caught him, snapping his eyes open to find himself back in the mine.

And not alone, at that. Lana and Soft Voice were looking at him, the first with neutrality and the latter with a grin. "Welcome back. Do you often meditate in creepy, haunted mines?"

"Just when I'm meeting Naga Sadow." Morgan replied, having to rapidly massage his muscles to stand. "Turns out he was Teacher all along. Kind of. Long story."

Lana raised an eyebrow. "Naga Sadow? The ancient, very dead, sith Emperor whose artifacts usually start minor wars when found?"

"That's the one. Bit of a dick, honestly."

Soft Voice nodded sagely. "Trained by a millenia old Force ghost, schooled in his ways and apprenticed to his legacy. I'd expect nothing less."

"Shut up." Morgan bit back, suppressing a smile. "Like I knew that when I found Teacher on Korriban. Should have stolen a holocron yourself if you're jealous."

Lana held up a hand, expression growing even more impassive. Somehow. "This is insane. Madness. One in a million odds that keep happening once a month. I suppose he gifted you some ancient technique you will now use to kill your enemies, too?"

"No." Morgan assured. "But he and I did practice some fleshcrafting after a discussion on the deeper mysteries of the Force. Very somber, there wasn't any name calling or snark involved."

"Just. Just keep in mind I'm on your side, alright? I need a drink."

"Yes." Soft Voice echoed, motioning to an already leaving Lana. "We're on your side. Very rude to inflict brain damage on poor miss Beniko. I'm used to your fits of inconsistency, but you should have given her more time to adjust."

"I'm consistently inconsistent." Morgan argued, allowing himself to relax. Speaking with gods was stressful. "Thereby, I am consistent. I rest my case."

"Law doesn't apply to us. Neither do judges. Not that the Empire really has those. That would imply an impartial judicial system."

They bickered as they followed Lana, Morgan casting a look back at the mine. He'd had a feeling Teacher would show up again, one way or the other, but this time? This time it didn't come. No traitorous whisper he didn't dare listen to, lying to himself and others for the sake of closure.

But he had friends, allies and soldiers. Apprentices and reputation and ever growing skill. So as Lana slowed and haughtily refused to be dragged down to their level, holding out perhaps five or so minutes, he didn't mind.

He would miss Teacher. Treasure the memories he had of him. Hell, he wouldn't even mind seeing Naga Sadow again.

But he didn't need them.

Afterword

Horrific news, everyone. We've run out of backlogged chapters. From now on we'll follow my normal schedule of one 10k-ish chapter every week. That would set the next chapter to release on the 4th of January 2025. A year of work, posted in little over a month. Damn.

I hope to see you all around, even if much less frequently. If you just can't wait, my bio has a discord link with two advanced chapters. (Webnovel.com sucks in that I can't just link it here. Apologies.)

Discord (two chapters ahead) [Check author profile or pinned comment on the chapter.]