Dramatis Personae

Allana Solo; Jedi Knight (female human)

Ben Skywalker; Jedi Knight (male human)

Darth Krayt; Sith Lord (male human)

Darth Plagueis; Sith Lord (male dark side manifestation)

Dif Scaur; Galactic Alliance Intelligence Director (male human)

Han Solo; Captain, Millennium Falcon (male human)

Leia Organa Solo; Jedi Knight (female human)

Luke Skywalker; Jedi Grand Master (male human)

Nek Bwua'tu; Galactic Alliance Admiral (male Bothan)

Seff Hellin; Jedi Knight (male human)

Thrace Solusar; Jedi Knight (male Chiss)

Vestara Khai; Sith Saber (female human)

54 ABY: Kuat

The Sith Meditation Sphere, resembling the eye liberated from some great beast, sped away from the dying Trade Federation control ship. In the chaos of the battle, no one would pay any mind to the peculiar. Not even the Jedi would notice, not through the suffering of so many clones. Even so the sentient vessel, uncreatively named Ship , elected to use the surrounding ships for cover as he approached the perimeter of Kuat's gravity well.

The Sith Lord, Darth Krayt sat cross legged in the center of the Sith Meditation Sphere. Curled up beside him, and wrapped in his robe, lay a young woman with long, red hair. She slept peacefully, now that she was no longer being tormented to provide a starship with extra power.

Krayt had been her salvation, freeing her from that maturation tank which had been her prison. The girl owed Krayt her life. He would, thus, have her full loyalty.

55 ABY: Minotaur: Orbiting Bastion

"I don't know what it is, sir. But it's definitely not Yuuzhan Vong," the security chief told Moff Drikl Lecersen. Whatever it was looked like a giant eye that had been gouged out of the face of some monster. Connected to it were four appendages resembling bat wings. The grotesque thing hovered a meter or so above the flight deck.

"And as for how it got in," the security officer continued, "it must use some sort of cloaking tech. Or maybe some sort of sensor disrupting device."

A tongue shaped section of the spherical hull suddenly folded down into a boarding ramp. A human man with a tattooed face walked calmly down it. Once on the flight deck he smiled at one of the security cameras and pulled out what looked like a lightsaber. A red shaft of light materialized a split second later.

"Or maybe the Force," Lecersen said. "And judging by that red lightsaber, I'd say the dark side."

"I know you're watching me Moff Lecersen," said the strange man. "I would very much like to speak with you, sir."

The security officer turned to Lecersen. "Do you think that's wise, sir?"

"If he'd wanted me dead, I imagine I'd already be dead."

"You're very correct, sir," said the tattooed man.

The security officer turned toward Lecersen, frowning. "How did he..."

"He didn't," the Moff reassured him. "They can't read minds." He sure hoped they couldn't. He'd heard that they could read emotions, which sometimes enabled them to guess what another was thinking. "It's called deduction, young man."

Lecersen keyed on the intercom. "I am willing to speak with you. What shall I call you?"

"Darth Krayt," the man said, with a formal bow.

Drikl Lecersen suppressed a shudder as a young woman with long red hair, a cute button nose, and gray eyes walked down the boarding ramp. Allana Solo, the same girl he'd tried to kill over a decade ago. No, that made no sense at all.

"You needn't be concerned, Moff Lecersen. Had this been Allana Solo, I'd be presenting you with her corpse."

"A clone, then," Lecersen reasoned.

Darth Krayt nodded. "There were plenty of her clones in existence about a year ago."

Lecersen thought back to the conflict against several fleets' worth of Clone Wars era droid ships. The ships had been under the control of some strange Force entity named Abeloth, and clones of Allana Solo had been used to provide them with extra power.

Lecersen did not relish the memory of that conflict. Imperial Head of State, Vitor Reige, had sent Lecersen's forces to assist the Alliance, hoping the Moff would get killed in action. And then his fleet had almost been wiped out when the mutt, Bwua'tu had attempted to retreat.

"I am Darth Ceivious," the girl said as she walked over to the Moff.

"I have plans for Darth Ceivious that will benefit both of us. I understand that you once tried to kill Allana Solo. And I have had visions of her as the future queen of the Jedi. So we share a mutual enemy. If we work together we can return the Empire to what it once was; it could be greater. We both want the same thing: order. And that can be achieved only if the galaxy is under the rule of a durasteel fist."

"And, if I were to refuse will you kill me?"

"No, because you are still an enemy of my enemies. But, things would not go well with us."

Kuat: Government District

Lieutenant Jate Redman could not believe it. Allana Solo. Though he greatly admired her and the other Jedi, he preferred not to keep company with them. Trouble seemed to follow them like a lost nexu cub. "What may I do for you, milady?" And of course he had to be a complete dork about meeting one of his heroes.

"I need to speak with Chief of State Brand. It's very important."

"Uh. He's quite busy right now. Perhaps I could relay a message?"

"It's highly classified."

"Well, in that case I'd prefer not to know," he said with an awkward laugh. "I shall escort you."

"The architecture of this building is beautiful," Allana commented as they walked toward their destination.

"It's amazing what one can do with stone. Stone is dirt, really. Put under incredible pressure. A bit like Turk Brand," he said with that same awkward laugh. The man stepped toward a wooden door and pressed a small silver button. "I have Allana Solo here. She wishes to speak with you regarding a classified matter.

"Send her in," responded a male voice. The door quietly slid open a couple seconds later.

"Wooden doors are such a lovely touch," Allana said as she walked into the Chief of State's office.

Seated behind a large desk with stacks of flimsies, datapads, and data cards, Turk Brand was quite fit for his age and still had a full head of hair. Brand was in his fifth year as the Galactic Alliance Chief of State. He'd held many different positions throughout his life but, until a few years ago, he'd never dreamed he'd become so involved in politics, let alone that he'd become the leader of an entire nation.

Brand would have preferred to still be in command of a fleet, or at least a single. But, despite the fact that his hunches in combat had often led to victory, his military tactics had often been described as reckless.

Turk Brand frowned as he began reading a bill regarding an experimental drug called Midichlore. The name, alone, gave him pause. It sounded an awful lot like midichlorian. Enough of those in one's body would enable the individual to use the Force. And that was just what this drug would do. Too dangerous. While it could result in many more Jedi, it could also result in more Sith. And from what he'd learned, just one Sith could do more harm than a hundred Jedi could do good.

The Chief of State looked up at Allana Solo as she walked toward his desk, and the door closed. "What can I do for you?"

She clenched her left fist. A cracking sound came from the man's neck. And as he slumped forward she used the Force to gently lower his head to the table.

Jate frowned. They were taking an awfully long time in there. He went to the door and knocked. No response. He let the scanner pass over his eye again. Jate went into a cold sweat when he saw Herbert Brand slumped forward upon his desk. Allana was nowhere to be seen. As he ran over to the Chief of State, he noticed that one of the windows had a hole in it. He put two fingers on the side of Brand's neck. No pulse. The Chief of State was dead.

Hapes Consortium

Admiral Gavin Darklighter frowned at the screen. He glanced up at Allana and Thrace. "Any idea how the Hapan Freedom Federation's getting supplies through our blockade?"

Thrace looked thoughtful. "We used StealthXs on our recon runs. Maybe they have stealth tech, too."

"Or," Allana said, "there could be Sith involved."

Gavin frowned and looked at Thrace. "I hope you're right."

Thrace did not respond, but seemed to be staring off into space. "Bugger," he muttered. "Something's wrong."

Thrace leapt up onto the table. "Can't use obvious exits," he explained as his lightsaber snap-hissed to life. Allana activated her own lightsaber, and joined the Chiss Jedi atop the table. A couple seconds later, a roughly circular section of the ceiling fell to the table and the two scrambled into the newly made hole.

Gavin swung his gaze to the hole in the ceiling as the door whooshed open. Several YVH droids barged into his quarters. "They went up there," the admiral said uselessly. The droids would have already found the Jedis' heat signatures. The YVHs' right forearms reconfigured themselves into high powered laser cannons as they pointed them up toward the ceiling.

Moving like zombies in some horror film, Allana and Thrace scuttled through the area above the ceiling, toward the nearest hangar bay. It wasn't where the StealthXs had been; they would likely have already been sabotaged. Or worse, planted with tracking devices.

Allana suddenly rolled to the side, while still scrambling forward, a split second before a flurry of red energy bolts shot up through the 'floor'. Thrace similarly evaded more fire. Allana grimaced as she felt something hot graze her calf; or was it Thrace's calf? With the strength of their Force bond it was hard to tell. It was irrelevant, at any rate.

As the two Jedi evaded another barrage of laser fire, Thrace's prosthetic left arm seemed to partially disassemble itself and reform into a blaster muzzle. He pointed it at the 'floor' and shot off a silvery orb of plasma. There was a loud sparking sound, followed by a thump as one of the YVHs crashed to the real floor below.

Allana and Thrace, who managed to down a couple more YVHs, continued on toward the hangar bay. "We're there," Thrace said, after what seemed like hours. They made another hole in the 'floor', and dropped down into a maintenance room.

Stun rifles screamed to life as Allana and Thrace-who now had both sides of his saberstaff activated-stepped out into the hangar. Alliance guards fell to the floor as the two Jedi deflected a number of stun beams back toward their sources. The two Jedi made their way over to a Lambda-class shuttle. Allana sensed a man already inside. "Out!" she ordered, as she and Thrace ran up the boarding ramp. "Jedi business." Without a word the man jumped out of his seat, and was stumbling off the boarding ramp just as it was starting to close up. The shuttle was up on its repulsors and firing at the remaining YVHs, in under a second.

Allana, at the helm, brought the Lambda-class shuttle through the magcon field and out into the empty vastness of space. The shuttle whipped along the underside of the Star Destroyer, headed toward the stern.

"They're scrambling fighters," Thrace noted. Seconds after speaking, he felt several lifeless points of energy rapidly approaching the shuttle. Proton torpedoes. The Chiss Jedi was certain that the pilots had been ordered to destroy the shuttle. He reached out toward two of them and squeezed. There was an impact and an alarm began to wail. But after no more hits, Thrace was convinced that he'd taken out all the other torpedoes. Not long afterward the stars elongated into lines, and then melted into the grayish abyss of hyperspace.