A/N - I lied. This isn't the last chapter after all. It ran away from me, so there will be one more after this. Thank you for reading!

CHAPTER 10

Varkoor did not speak to anyone as they journeyed through the reality-bending void of hyperspace, the Scythe bringing them inexorably closer to a twice-damned space station, once the seat of an enfeebled Emperor.

An Emperor that would be replaced by another one who thought to...enforce a more enlightened society. Varkoor snorted in disgust. Distilled down to their basic parts, it was hard to distinguish one power-hungry Sith from another.

Varkoor was grateful that his crew saw the wisdom in steering well clear of him during this journey. Well, almost everyone. He grunted softly as he glanced at the young woman meditating nearby in the shadows of the conference room. Jaesa had not strayed far from his side since Vette's disappearance. Thankfully, she respected his need for silence most of the time.

The young Sith continued his own pacing meditations in the dimness of the chamber.

He had been summoned by his new 'Master' to join him on the Space Station, the latter having anticipated the hostilities at Fort Barrow. Like the self-interested manipulator he was, Malgus left his most trusted lieutenants and followers to face the onslaught without the benefit of his presence. The war over the crystals of Ilum would come to its final, likely bloody conclusion one way or another, with the instigator far away, his objective satisfied, the Fleet long gone. Varkoor sneered to himself. Why should the new king of the galaxy dirty his hands to lead his devoted followers to what would surely be a decisive defeat? Varkoor credited Malgus with vile appetites and insanity...never with suicidal stupidity.

So the young pureblood had wasted no time in quitting Ilum with his crew, for he knew well that wherever Darth Malgus was, Vette would surely be close by. Let someone else clean up the mess on Ilum. Let the Republic have it. Such things were no longer his priority.

He would seize this summons as an opportunity, take the despotic maniac off guard. The very thought filled him with triumph.

Varkoor would attend Malgus, the perfect juxtaposition of insolence and reverence, expected for a Sith of his rank when dealing with an old Darth like Malgus. The performance would go on just a little while longer, long enough for her to get as far away from here as possible. She would be no man's slave. No man's possession.

Not his, and most certainly not Darth Malgus's.

His gut churned with anxiety and dread. What horrors was she enduring at this very moment?

He knew that when this was all over, she would surely come to realize that the cost of aligning herself with a Sith, even one who cared deeply for her, was simply far too high.

If he continued to dwell upon the certainty of her leaving him, his grief would overcome him. He owed it to her to be focused, to not let her down this time. Jaesa glanced up at him, concern etched on her face.

"We will not fail you, Master." she murmured

Varkoor nodded curtly to the young human woman he had come to trust implicitly. He realized at that moment he had never thanked her for anything, all things considered. No time for that now.

"I know, Jaesa. I have full confidence in you." He took her shoulders in his hands, his eyes burning. "Now. To recap the plan. I will transmit the signal to you once I am in position and Malgus sufficiently distracted. Once you have her safely aboard the ship, inform her of my intention to remain here to assist with operations with the Fleet. Once this is done, immediately relay to me confirmation. Then you must be away, as quickly as may be."

The Sith closed his eyes briefly at Jaesa's reproachful look, his hands still resting on her shoulders. "It's better and safer this way. Trust me, Jaesa. I will be fine."

Her eyes glittered with tears, but she simply nodded, knowing it was useless to argue with him further.

The crackle of Quinn's voice over the comm interrupted his musings. "My lord, we will be coming out of hyperspace in six minutes and twenty-three seconds. The rest of the crew awaits your final instructions."

Varkoor glided silently down the ramp of the Scythe, his eyes taking in the hangar they had been directed to dock. This was clearly a service hangar and not one to greet dignitaries or high ranking officials. As a result, he was not set upon by groveling underlings, having been cleared at their approach. All the better for his purposes, he and his crew were left to their own devices. General Hesker of the Imperial Guard had honored his request to meet him here, as a special favor to Darth Vowrawn, under the guise of obeisance to Darth Malgus. His shuttle docked some ways away within the huge hangar.

So far so good.

As he made his way through the bowels of the space station, he passed aliens of many varieties, some of a kind he had never encountered in person. All of them had a job to do, looking quite out of place in this sterile Imperial environment. However insane Malgus's designs were, this was something with which Varkoor agreed heartily. Humans and Sith were far from the only intelligent race in the galaxy, though traditional Imperials considered themselves unaccountably superior in every way. Varkoor abhorred this thinking.

Later, once ensconced with Darth Malgus within his private conference room, he discreetly touched his earpiece, giving Jaesa the signal that it was time.

Now to wait.

He was gobsmacked with how readily and easily Malgus admitted him into his confidence and inner circle. An inner circle of alien scientists that Malgus had apparently kept hidden from the old guard Imperials, or so he believed. This was the answer to why Malgus stole the Fleet. The crystals had only been one part of the stealth technology.

The young pureblood could not muster anything other than contempt for the entire scheme. He was here for one purpose only. At any rate, according to General Hesker, Malgus's plot was doomed to failure, even now Imperial and Republic forces alike were on their way to neutralize the upstart.

Varkoor followed Malgus as a docile and obedient servant, as he was given a tour of operations, comfortable to be anonymous in the shadows while he waited upon his 'master'...the new bloody Emperor.

He breathed deeply, calmly, in and out. His purpose sang through his blood. The Force thrummed through his soul with the rightness of his deceit. He would have his vengeance. For Vette, for Z'kara and Vindican. One way or another. Whether by his own hand or at the hands of others Malgus had wronged...it did not matter anymore.

He was not expecting any news this soon, but every fiber of his being was focused upon the inevitable notification from Jaesa. His fingers twitched in anticipation as Malgus droned on and on. The madman actually expected that they would elude the approaching enemy forces entirely, the Fleet, even the space station would be shrouded by the stealth tech.

Even without the communication device, he would feel it through the Force, through his strong connection with his apprentice. He felt Jaesa's emotions, even now. Her calm deliberation, her predatory awareness as she and Rathari made their stealthy way through the interior of the space station. Few times in his life had he experienced such oneness with the essence of all that existed, this tranquil telepathic connection with the object of his focus, apprentice and master.

How could Malgus be so wrong in understanding of the Force? How could he believe that the deepest understanding of the Force was only attainable through conflict?

Malgus was absurdly wrong. Varkoor felt no conflict, none at all. He felt utter control and peace. His primary aim in risking his life for someone else, subverting the will of a would-be tyrant made the power hum through his veins. Jaesa's bright presence, though not with him physically, was a beacon in his soul that all was as it should be at this very moment.

It would never occur to Malgus that a Sith would make a conscious choice to sacrifice himself for another. Varkoor felt himself lighter than air as if he could fly. This was freedom.

It was while standing with Malgus overlooking the gigantic power core of the space station that Jaesa's voice softly informed him that she had Vette with her, on the Scythe. She was safe and alive, and they were about to depart.

Adrenaline surged through him as his lightsaber snarled to life. He would likely die here today, but at least she was safe. None of his kind would ever hurt her again.

Vette jerked herself awake by a determined effort of sheer will. She shivered, shaking off weariness and plastering her face with a stony blankness. She prepared for battle with Malgus in the only way she had at her disposal. Cold indifference.

Since being brought along with Malgus like some sort of wild animal he hoped to tame, Vette quickly realized the only effective way she could hold off his advances was to pretend she was utterly bored. Hysterics and fear only encouraged him in his psychotic delusion that she would one day warm up to him if he only had enough patience. Her terror encouraged him to embrace her, to make some attempt to soothe and gentle her. At least when she was coldly aloof to him, he kept his distance. She somehow had a feeling this strategy would not last long.

Her repeated entreaties to be released, appealing to his logic, reminding him of how Eleena had been free and chose to stay with him fell on deaf ears. The irony of the situation was completely lost on Darth Malgus. He would keep her caged until she capitulated to him, and agreed to stay with him of her own will, as his consort.

It would be a cold day in hell before that happened. And she often told him so.

He would calmly reply that he was a patient man, and would give her all the time she needed.

Vette shuddered as revulsion skated up her lekku.

She'd been brought along with him and moved from one nondescript set of rooms to another. She had lost count of the days. The first time she'd been moved, she had been brought to Malgus's own accommodations aboard his private shuttle. Thankfully, he had been too occupied with other things to pay her any attention during that trip.

Now she was ensconced in a spacious and luxuriously appointed suite of rooms, where, she had no idea. She did not know if she were on some massive dreadnaught, or an orbital station, or even what system. No doubt Imperial Space.

She swallowed her tears as thoughts of Varkoor haunted her. She wondered where he was, if he were safe and if he looked for her. Malgus's mentioning of his 'priorities' had chilled her, caused her doubts to fester. These thoughts were on a loop in her mind and would surely drive her mad.

She tensed when she heard the sound of the door in the main room hiss open and closed.

"Who's there?" she called out. She worked the kinks out of her neck as she shakily stood up from the chair where she'd fallen asleep. Since her kidnapping, she had refused to go near the bed in the apartment in which she'd been kept. She had refused to let her guard down for one instant even though sleep came upon her unawares in her exhausted state.

"Vette? Vette, is that you?"

Vette froze at the sound of a beloved voice calling out her name. Jaesa! But surely it couldn't be? She must be dreaming, and so sank back into the chair, her legs unable to support her. Her heart quailed and stuttered. Had Varkoor finally come to get her out of here?

Or was this some trick to lull her into a false sense of security? One of Malgus's mind games? She could not keep this facade up any longer. Sleep deprivation and fear made her begin to shake violently.

"Stay back! Please, just leave me alone, whoever you are!" she shrieked, her mind unable to cope as all strength fled.

Her breaths came in short harsh gasps. Hands grasped her, pulled her into an embrace. She didn't want this! She began to struggle.

"Sweetie, we've got you! We're getting you out of here!"

A familiar voice was calling her out of her nightmare, but she was so tired. So tired…

Strong arms gathered her into warmth. More indistinct commands hissed by the one who sounded like Jaesa.

"We don't...time...get her out...Rathari, we cannot! No...the ship…"

What? Rathari was here too? Vette's eyelids fluttered as she fought unconsciousness.

"Vark…?"

She inhaled a breath of a masculine scent. It surrounded her as she was lifted. The voice of the one who held her had a softly cultured accent. "My lady, it is Rathari, Lord Varkoor's humble servant. Jaesa and I are here to bring you to the Scythe. Rest easy. I will carry you."

She had no idea how to process this information. Her weariness took over and she knew no more.

Varkoor stared up at the soaring ceiling of the vast room that housed the space station power core, this monument to Imperial arrogance. He smiled faintly, thinking of how funny life could be. By all rights, he should be a smoking corpse. But obviously, he was quite alive.

He poked at the cauterized gash on his shoulder where Malgus's lightsaber had left its mark, and which should have separated his head from the rest of him. But something inexplicable had prevented that from happening. Maybe it was the Force? He couldn't help snickering.

He lay on his back on the platform grating surrounding the space station's power core where the False Emperor had left him for dead when the klaxon began to blare.

Could it be that the space station had been breached by hostile entities? How troublesome for Malgus!

He grinned savagely and rolled over to his side, clumsily standing to his feet. He was not so dead as Malgus likely hoped. He held out his hand, calling his lightsaber back to him that was flung across the room in the heat of his altercation with the older Sith. He muttered a curse as the hilt slapped into his palm sending pain shooting through his shoulder.

Oh, but he'd got a few hits in himself. Malgus had been wounded as well.

The klaxon continued its insistent warning.

He fumbled for his comm at his ear. "General Hesker. Do you read me?"

"Affirmative, my lord."

"Are you in a secure location?"

"I am in position as you commanded, within the service hangar. All is quiet in my vicinity, though our strike teams have already reached their first checkpoint." Hesker hesitated, the seasoned soldier clearly reluctant to leave a battle of any kind. "Will you still be needing transport to rendezvous with your apprentice?"

"I daresay I will need transport, but only to Dromund Kaas, and not just yet. I am on my way to you now. As long as we are still here, General, would you care to assist me with some mayhem, as a parting gift for the Emperor?"

Hesker's voice became decidedly more animated, "My lord, I most definitely would be honored."

She heard a noise and sat bolt upright.

"Who's there?"

"Shh, Vette. It's me."

"Jaesa? Jaesa?" Panic. Where was she?

"Yes! It's Jaesa, dear heart. We are on board the Scythe!"

Vette's body jerked as hands touched her, soothed her. She looked around wildly, saw she was on her sleeping rack, Jaesa's worried face hovering over her. "Oh Jaesa, I'm so glad it's you…"

She burst into tears. Jaesa gathered her close, soothing and shushing her, rocking her as she sobbed. "It's ok, it's ok now...you're back, it's alright…shhh…."

Vette cried until she was spent, her sobs devolving to little more than hiccups. "Vark…"

Jaesa hesitated slightly. "Master is well. You still need to rest, though. You're past the point of endurance."

"Jaesa, where is he?"

Jaesa soothed, "Vette, you really need to take it easy. Please?"

Vette pushed the blankets aside. "Jaesa, stop. Where is Vark? I need to see him!"

Jaesa sat down on the edge of her bed and took her hands. "He isn't with us, sweetie. He decided to stay on the space station and assist with the Fleet, at Darth Vowrawn's request."

Vette stared at her, mute.

Jaesa hastened to add, "He wanted to make sure you were safe. Wherever you wanna go, we're supposed to take you. But he wasn't able to join us. There's...so much he needed to do," Jaesa winced and looked away, hating herself and for a moment, her Master, for putting her in this position to tell the twi'lek only half-truths.

"Of course, I understand."

Jaesa's look of forlorn pity said it all, really.

Vette stared unseeing at a spot just over Jaesa's shoulder. Varkoor was a Sith, first and foremost. He wasn't just any Sith, but a bloody freaking important one, to boot. The Dark Council depended on him. Of course he was busy right now, and unable to come be with her. She knew, right from Malgus's own mouth, that she was not one of Vark's top priorities. Yet here she was, wanting to be in his arms above all things, yearning for his presence, his lips on hers. His words assuring her of his devotion to her.

Vette swallowed the fresh grief that threatened to bubble to the surface. She couldn't do this anymore. The Sith had their own world, and it was clear she would never fit into it. She wasn't sure she had ever really wanted to. Vark may be different from most of them, and care for her enough to have her rescued from one of his own kind, but he would always be one of them. The chasm could never be bridged.

That's life, sister. It's not fair. Deal with it or go home.

But where was home, if it wasn't here, with him?

Vette managed a crooked smile for her friend and squeezed her hands. "Thank you for coming after me, Jaesa. I do know where I would like to go. Just need to hop on the holonet for a bit."

It had been a month since the False Emperor had fallen and Malgus had been destroyed at the hands of a Jedi, of all things.

As relieved as Varkoor was with that outcome, he found no satisfaction with where he found himself.

He was currently tossing items into a box in the master chamber of his Dromund Kaas apartment when the stupid droid he owned trundled in. He never remembered purchasing the thing. It just appeared when he had moved into this...museum. Among all the other extraneous crap he was divesting himself of, this annoying 'butler' would certainly be at the top of the 'toss' list.

"My lord and Master, Dr. Kyros has arrived and begs an audience," it proclaimed snootily.

Varkoor rolled his eyes marveling that somewhere there existed people who actually programmed droids to behave this way. On purpose. "Fine. I'll be right out."

"Varkoor darling, how are you?" He closed his eyes resignedly as she sailed into the chamber right past the useless droid. She began idly poking through the piles of clothing strewn over the bed.

Varkoor pinched the bridge of his nose. "Do you mind very much not doing that?"

She held up a rumpled shirt and squinted critically at it.

He snatched the shirt and glared at her. "What are you doing here, Mother?"

She planted her hands on her hips and expostulated. "I think the relevant question, Varkoor, is what are you doing here?"

Varkoor favored her with a look of feigned hauteur. "I've clearly been waiting for an abominably nosy woman to sashay into my apartment and poke through my belongings." He shoved the shirt into a box with more force than necessary.

"Don't be impertinent. I mean why are you dismantling everything you've built just to...run away?"

"Haven't we been over this? I'm tired of it. And I'm not running away from anything."

"Jaesa tells me you have turned over the remainder of your contracts to her and Lord Rathari …'tying up loose ends' I believe are the words she used."

Varkoor grunted disinterestedly. "Did she now?"

The pureblood woman was silent for a moment. "Your loose ends, Varkoor. With the Council. Why would you walk away from all you have built, abandon your staff?" Her voice became quiet as her haughty demeanor dropped away. She looked mournfully around the grand chamber that was barely lived in.

"I'm not abandoning anyone. Jaesa runs a tighter operation than I ever could. Believe me, they'll be fine."

Varkoor kept his expression light as he continued sorting and boxing up his sparse belongings in this giant apartment that reminded him of a tomb. Empty and dead.

The only time he'd ever enjoyed being here was when members of his crew were here, filling it with their ribald jokes, laughter, and companionship...when she was here.

But she was gone. She'd wasted no time in formally quitting his staff as combat and technical support, packing all of her belongings aboard the ship and disappearing with no hint of where she had gone, or with whom. Jaesa was silent on the topic of Vette, and had refused to speak to him for several days following the rescue.

Vette was free from Malgus now. She was free of the Sith and their prejudices. That was all that mattered. His chest tightened.

"It's all just so much shit, isn't it? What's it all for, Mother? The Empire, the grasping of the Sith, why do we strive for conflict and dominance? For a more perfect understanding of the Force?" He scoffed. "To climb to the pinnacle only to find you've killed everyone to get there and there's no one...no one to…"

He trailed off. With a muttered curse, he shoved past the scattered boxes and left the room.

Z'kara found him leaning against the railing outside, unmindful of the gentle rain that fell. She perched upon a patio chair beneath the awning and regarded him. For the first time in years, his head sported a shaggy black mop, likely from lack of care and neglect. His lightsaber was conspicuously absent, that observation notable only because ever since his release from the Academy, he had never been without it. She sighed and rubbed her forehead.

"I told you before that I have never been a particularly good Sith," she said.

He grunted. "You seem to be doing alright for yourself."

"What I mean is, I enjoyed the benefits that came with being born into a privileged Sith lineage but wanted nothing to do with the duty and expectations that came with it."

"You're a brilliant and respected scientist. You faithfully execute your duty to the Empire with long hours spent in the lab. I'm sure it evens out in the wash," he said wryly.

She snorted. "As a young woman, I thought I was thumbing my nose at the Sith war machine when I managed to avoid the Academy. But really, I too just became a pawn in a bigger game."

Varkoor turned from the railing and looked curiously at her.

The sadness in her eyes was acute. "I'm not a good Sith because I just...want to live my life in peace. To be left in peace. To live and let live. I never have wanted to follow a code that demands conquest and domination."

He sat down next to her. "But that's what you've done, Mother. You love your research and your students, and all the long hours you spend in the lab solving the mysteries of the galaxy." He put his arm around her. "Isn't that doing what you want?"

"In 'solving the mysteries of the galaxy', Varkoor, I've helped develop horrific weapons...technology that destroys, all in aid of advancing the Imperial war machine...and ultimately, the Sith." Her face was blank but her eyes glittered with sorrow. "I told myself that by being in the lab, in my safe sterile environment, all of the ugliness of war would not touch me."

She leaned into her only son, comforted by his calm presence and bearing. He had ever always been a pillar of strength, despite having never known a father. She murmured, "I must have been a figure full of contradictions to you growing up, Varkoor."

He gently shook her, nudging her chin up with his finger. "What's this all about, Mother? I can see that you didn't just come here to pester me about my career choices."

She stood up and turned away from him. "I did have a point of coming to see you. You are a Sith, like your grandfather before you, this is a truth you should embrace with pride. But that being said, I must ask you a question. Do you believe he was a murderous automaton, who blindly obeyed his masters in all things?"

Varkoor studied her, knowing it was a rhetorical question. He sensed she needed this, needed to speak. "Tell me about him, Mother."

Z'kara smiled and sat back down. "He had a fondness for telling elaborate tales. He went to great lengths to make me laugh, no matter if he had to make himself ridiculous to do so. He was so passionate and zealous, but his sense of humor was wicked!"

Varkoor grinned crookedly, the description at odds with the picture of the forbidding Sith Lord he'd always carried in his mind of the man.

"How his absence hurts, even after so long!" she sighed. "There was a particular time, not long before his death, that I will never forget. I had been eavesdropping on my parents, and quickly became angry to learn he was leaving yet again. But his excitement and passion for the enterprise of taking back Korriban could not be denied or dampened by my mother's worry."

She paused, wiping away a tear that had escaped. "He was telling my mother how it would be a glorious victory for the Sith…" her nostrils flared, "...and for my future."

Varkoor didn't reply to this, his silence encouraging her to continue.

"I listened as he begged my mother to wish him success, that once Korriban was safely in the hands of the Empire, he would release Malgus to go his own way. He'd then promised her that he would return to us."

"But Malgus, in classic Sith fashion, had made sure that would never happen." Varkoor finished for her.

Z'kara wrung her hands in frustration. "I never received official confirmation that Malgus was ultimately responsible for my father's death, but I know it in my deepest soul that he was, as I've told you before."

"Whatever the case, Mother, Malgus is destroyed. You are avenged."

She shook her head vigorously and held up a hand. "I ramble, my son, and go off on tangents. Me being avenged is not the point. Yes, I still mourn for my father...but he died honorable, with his soul intact. He died loving us and knowing he was loved. I have never sought retribution. What I want you to know, to grab hold of, is the fact that you owe them nothing. You are always Sith, without the false glory, without the relentless advancement. They can never take that from you. Loving others and protecting them...is not a weakness. Love does not erase who you are, or the legacy with which you were born."

"So you are saying my grandfather was cut down by his own apprentice for his supposed weakness."

"Yes, that is my belief."

"I am sorry, Mother," his murmured sadly.

Neither of them spoke for a few minutes. Suddenly, Z'kara sat back down, took his hands and looked earnestly into his face.

"I didn't just come here today to wax nostalgic about the past, although it is related to my next question. When will you stop lying to yourself and go after the girl you love?"

His mother's words were so abrupt and unexpected that for a moment Varkoor had no idea what to say. After a moment, his expression closed off. He stood up, shaking her hands away.

"Leave it alone."

Z'kara pursed her lips in exasperation. "That's what this is about, isn't it? You are Sith, and cannot reconcile that with loving your twi'lek? Have you not listened to anything I've been telling you?"

Varkoor growled dangerously. "You know less than nothing of which you speak."

"Pray, do enlighten me. Where is she now?"

"I do not know. But she is free to do as she pleases."

Z'kara smiled indulgently. "There. You see? A free twi'lek! You buck so many Sith conventions. From the moment I met the pretty little thing, you treated her as an equal, of all things! When she was taken by Malgus, your only thought was of her, not for the Empire, or any strategies to recover the stolen Fleet. It was only her. You risked everything to secure her safety and freedom, with no thought for yourself." Z'kara chuckled. "That's not very Sith, now is it?"

"The Sith and the Empire can go to hell!" He snarled. "I want no more part of it. As you can see, I am making my own way."

"As you have always done."

"As I have always done? Are you blind? I have spent years bowing and scraping, doing whatever I could to reach the top, running their grisly errands. I closed my eyes to the destruction I caused, and dragged Vette along for all of it! By the Force, I took their rewards readily enough!"

"And you defied them every chance you got! Now you are walking away from all of it. Fine, I applaud you! But in walking away, you are also allowing the one thing in all the universe you care for slip away. Varkoor, why do you let them win? Why are you sitting here, doing nothing, while she is Force knows where likely believing the exact opposite of the truth regarding your feelings?"

Varkoor's temper ignited. "Vette will hardly have an interest in the truth of my feelings! I do not know where she is or what she is doing even a month after her ordeal with Malgus. I've not heard a word from her. That is confirmation that she is well shut of me! I can hardly blame her, after all she has been through at my side."

Her heart swelled in compassion for him, finally understanding the crux of the matter.

"Oh my boy. The fear of the unknown is paralyzing, isn't it? I was afraid to take a risk, to love. And because of that, I have always been alone. I was afraid of the pain of loss. In your case, I see you fear that you will hurt her, cause her grief because of what you are."

He interrupted, "Everything she went through, was because of me, Mother. Because of the Sith."

"No. Those things happened because of the warped choices of a deluded psychopath. Because of you, she was spared far worse."

"If she'd never crossed my path on Korriban, Malgus would never have gotten his hands on her!"

"If she'd never crossed your path on Korriban, she would now be in the cruel hands of a Sith with no honor and appetites to match. That shock collar would have never come off! Think of what you are saying, Varkoor!"

He turned from her, his expression broken. "I can't talk about this anymore, Mother. Please leave it alone."

She sighed. "I'll leave you to your business, son. But please think on what we've talked about today. Your grandfather was a powerful Sith warrior, mighty in the Force who was also gentle and devoted to those he loved most. Those things did not make him weak. They made him whole."

After Z'kara took her leave, Varkoor did think, for a long while, and late into the evening. The rain was a continual cadence but did little to drown the misery he felt.

The next morning, he discovered that since the battle at Fort Barrow, the Imperial Base on Ilum had been abandoned, and any prisoners of war held there would have since been transferred to the detention compound outside of Dromund Kaas.

He decided to pay one prisoner in particular a visit

"Admiral Shai. It's been a while."

The grizzled human looked up from where he sat on the narrow cot shoved up against the wall of the tiny cell. He looked dreadful.

"Indeed it has, Sith. To what do I owe the honor of your visit? I would invite you to sit and have some tea, but as you can see, my current situation precludes such courtesies."

Varkoor grunted, remembering this man's fortitude from the Refinery. He felt a momentary shaft of guilt that he still sat here, languishing in Imperial custody, on his orders.

Like before, anger or fear was stunningly absent from Shai's aura. Varkoor's regard for the man rose another notch.

"Admiral, no doubt you were wondering how long you would be a guest of Imperial hospitality before your fate would finally be decided. I admit the blame for your extended stay is mine. I've been rather busy, and have quite forgotten about you."

The admiral chuckled. "Think no more of it, Sith. Though I can't imagine that you made a special trip to this illustrious establishment just to tell me that. What do you want?"

"I seek information, Admiral. I recall our previous discourse, and also that your disillusionment with the futility of conflict...mirrored my own. It is my hope that we can come to some accord."

"What information could I have that you would want, Sith?"

"I'm not really sure yet. What do you know about the twi'lek slave trade?"

A/N - I know it's an abrupt ending to the chapter, but be patient! It's going somewhere. As stated at the beginning of the chapter, I had to finally cut it, the thing got so long lol. The last chapter is being written now. Also, I realize that there was very little in the way of action, and Malgus didn't appear in this chapter at all, except indirectly. That was on purpose. The story isn't about him, and there's a lot of emotion for both Vette and Vark to deal with here. It's time to wrap this up, so I offer my thanks to all who have read this far.