Chapter 10

Just outside the Pakrik System, the task force organized their battleships…and prepared for war. It was an impressive display: eight Imperial Star Destroyers, four Victory-class Star Destroyers, four Interdictor Cruisers, over a dozen Strike-class cruisers, and nearly twice that many Carrack-class cruisers. Add to that six full wings of Tie Fighters, two of them being hidden wings of Tie Advanced Fighters thanks to Grand Admiral Grant's ingenuity, and the assault force was unbeatable.

At least, that's what Captain Harlan believed. Sitting in the Admiral's chair, he was preoccupying himself with analyzing tactical charts, data readouts, briefing reports, and interstellar cartographical maps of the Unknown Regions. The region where they would be launching their offensive. The territory they would strip away from Grand Admiral Thrawn.

Grand Admiral Grant was still in his private quarters, doing something important Harlan was sure. As his protégé, at least that's what the Captain thought of himself, Harlan believed it was his job to not only provide support to the Grand Admiral's plans, but to study and learn from the Commander, to be his pupil, his student; to learn as much as he could from him. Harlan mused whether Grand Admiral Thrawn had a protégé of his own serving under him. If so, the coming battles would serve to be an interesting duel; Grand Admiral against Grand Admiral, pupil against pupil, Imperial against Imperial…

With a bit of cloaking technology and the clone of a Sith Lord on their side. Harlan had to chuckle at that last thought. The war would not be fair. But then again, all is fair in war.

Grand Admiral Grant had made sure no one else knew the whereabouts of Wayland. The ships computer records were cleared of the coordinates, Captain Harlan himself had laid in the trajectory for the planet, and not one of the Department Heads were disclosed the secret to Wayland's location. This was a card Grant played closed to the chest.

Looking at the back of the Sith, Count Dooku himself staring out the front viewport with his hands clasped behind him and covered by his sandy brown cape, the Captain wondered if Dooku even realized he wasn't the real McCoy, to quote the old Coruscant custom.

"You know, I can hear your thoughts, Captain," Dooku spoke up, eyes still fixed on the stars and ships outside.

Flushed with embarrassment, the Captain immediately gave a sorrowful reply. "My apologies, my Lord."

"No, need," he answered, curt, but still cordial and civilized.

Certainly not the response that Lord Vader would give. Or his clone.

"I'm fully aware of what I am," Dooku continued. "I was created for the sole purpose of guarding Mount Tantiss. However," he added as an afterthought, "The Emperor's death changes things."

The bridge doors opened, and Grand Admiral Grant strode on the bridge, crisp-clean white uniform contrasting with the darkened silver tarnish of the hull and decks. His boots thundered down the bridge walkway as he come up to Captain Harlan and Count Dooku. "Good morning, Captain," he said in cordial stride. "Count Dooku," he nodded.

"Grand Admiral," Captain acknowledged. Dooku said nothing.

Grant ignored Dooku's disrespectful stance. "Is my task force, ready, Captain?" he asked, giving the formal request.

"The Majesty is fully at your command, Admiral," Harlan replied, giving the full reply.

"Very, good," Grant answered. He touched a button on the Admiral's chair and a full display of star system came up. "You may want to join us for this, Count Dooku," Grant gestured.

Slowly, deliberately, Dooku turned around and made his way to the pair. "It's no need for me to listen in on your conversation, Grand Admiral. I can hear every person's thoughts on this bridge. I know what you're planning."

"Why Count," Grant replied, with a wry smile, "that's exactly what I'm counting on."

The briefing if you could call it that went by without a hitch. It really only consisted of Grant laying down his detailed battle assault on Grand Admiral Thrawn's forces. The strategy was simple enough. Engage Thrawn in personal duel of ships and forces; winner take all. If they could defeat Grand Admiral Thrawn and destroy his ship, they would win. Harlan glanced over at the Sith. With Darth Tyrannus on their side, that was all but a certainty.

After about fifteen minutes of briefing Dooku grew bored and proceeded to stare out the viewports again. "He's not what I expected," Harlan murmured into Grant's ear.

"He doesn't care, that's all," the Grand Admiral replied. "This isn't his fight. He's just along for the ride."

Suddenly becoming aware that Dooku could read their minds, Harlan quickly changed the subject. "So this is the star system where Grand Admiral Thrawn is?"

"Yes," Grant said. "This was the last point of contact I had with Nuso Esva." He gave a grim smile. "I was hoping that Thrawn would finish him off, but it seems that our alien cockroach managed to slip away again. Ah, well. We'll deal with him after we take care of Thrawn."

And lowering his voice to a whisper, Grant added, "And our good Count here is the last thing Thrawn will expect from me."

Harlan looked back at Dooku, who was back to preoccupying himself, like a complete child. This wasn't exactly the behavior that went with his reputation.

"I always thought Count Dooku was a consummate strategist," Harlan whispered back. "He successfully played both sides of the Separatist War to his advantage. So why is he acting so-disinterested?"

Grant just shrugged. "It makes no difference in the long run, Captain."

"Count Dooku is the sifter card up our sleeve to defeat Grand Admiral Thrawn."

Giving the displays a quick once over, Grant sat down in the Admiral's chair. "Set course for the Manajran System."

With a flicker of pseudo-motion the ships jumped to lightspeed.

…

The village towns were nothing really but small collections of wooden huts and houses on the planet Manajra. A particular large town, if one could describe it as that, was located at the base of the tall mountain upon which the Crystal Palace stood. The landscape was smooth and lush, ripe with vegetation and forests, thanks to a stream of water that flowed from the mountain gently down the sloping hills into the sea below. It was picturesque and serene.

But there was nothing serene or peaceful about Seraph as he straddled through the towns. Keeping behind the alleyways and in the dark crevices of the village, he hobbled toward the outskirts trying to draw as little attention as possible to himself. The Kore rarely left the delicate luxuries of the Crystal Palace, but village townspeople would constantly make their way up the mountain and pay tribute to the Kore. It was a kind gesture really. They would offer the Kore their food and money, things the Kore didn't really need, in return for blessings and oracles from the Force.

Little did they know that the Kore were just as clueless about the Force as the townspeople. A small rumble shook the ground. Green leaves drifted off some of the trees causing Seraph to look up briefly. Gripping his shoulder tightly, Knowledge had made a makeshift bandage out of tearing off the right sleeve of his blue dress shirt and tying it around the wound wear Sage had hit him. With the crystals that he wore on his wrists, the Force power generated should enable him to heal quickly. He just had to find a place where he could recuperate in peace.

Fortunately, such a place existed outside the town. It was an abandoned temple used for worship ages ago. Damien and Seraph used to play around the temple when they were kids. If he could just make it there, he was sure that Sage wouldn't be able to find him.

Sage. Thinking of him reminded Seraph of the horrors that the creepy ghost planned to bring on the universe. Knowledge cringed at the thought of what lies the dark prophet was weaving to convince Light that Seraph was the enemy and not himself.

The clouds were growing darker, and the wind was just noticeably picking up. Feeling the cold rush brush against him, he tried to hasten his steps. But the gesture was futile. He was already mustering up as much strength as he could just to walk.

His legs grew weary with each step he took. Seraph's energy was low. The battle with Sage drained his body more than he thought. He may not make it to the shrine after all. Knowledge leaned against a nearby tree on the edge of the village, hoping to catch his breath. Damien. Damien. Sage is using you.

The ground shortly shook again. His vision grew cloudy. And a moment later, Seraph collapsed on the ground. "Sweet…smell…of green…grass," he muttered before his vision grew dark.

…

"Damien," Seraph called to him from the side of the temple. "Look at this!" he exclaimed excitedly.

Damien ran over to where his friend was. "Hmm," he replied thinking. "It's a rare blue flower. Quite beautiful don't ya think?"

"I've never seen this type before," Seraph said, gazing at its lustrous beauty. "I'll never forget the color as long as I live! I'll wear blue on me every day!"

"Every day?!" Damien laughed. "It's just a flower, Seraph. White is a more appropriate color. White as light!"

"Now who's the silly one?!" Seraph shot back. "White isn't any color. It's no color at all!"

"Is too!" Damien fired back and tackled Seraph to the ground. The two boys wrestled and giggled as they rolled around on the ground in their little scuffle.

A shadow crossed over the boys as a figure hovered above them looking down. "Ahh, it's time for your lessons, my Lord," came the raspy voice of Sage.

"Why now, Sage?!" Seraph shouted at the hooded man with indignation.

Damien was standing beside the cloaked shroud, but now he was fully grown and decorated in his royal Kore garb of crystal white and lavender cape. Sage's ghostly figure hovered just above him and his eyes glowed a crimson red with blood.

"Damien!" Seraph shouted, this time in his injured adult body. Grasping his arm and wincing from the pain he screamed as loud as he could, "Don't listen to him! He'll destroy you! He'll kill us all!"

Seraph could feel himself falling into the black void. Screaming Damien's name over and over again, his voice soon became muffled in the blackness of the void.

And then Seraph shot out of bed fully awake. Jutting up before wincing in pain and grabbing his injured arm, his eyes shot open and alert. Looking around the room before collapsing back on the bed he tried to get a bearing on his whereabouts.

He was in some kind of metallic room. The walls looked to be made of solid steel. "Where am I?" he muttered.

"Oh good, you're awake," came a voice—a woman's voice. Seraph strained his eyes and turned over to see a woman dressed in Imperial military garb. "We weren't sure if you were going to make it or not," she continued. "The wounds you sustained were not the usual sort. Internal injuries without any type of external trauma is most unusual."

"You're…a doctor?" Seraph managed.

"Just a medic," the girl replied, checking some computer displays. "Looks like your vitals have stabilized for what I could tell. You're physiology is human, but you seem to be…different."

Seraph just stared back unblinkingly. He was disoriented and confused. How did he get here? And who brought him to this place? "Where am I?" he said at last.

"The doctor will be with you in a moment," she continued, as if he didn't ask any question at all. "After you get a clean bill of health, you'll be interrogated."

"Interrogated?" Seraph replied shocked. "For what?"

"For conspiring with Nuso Esva, of course," the woman replied.

"You're the enemy."

…...

The doctor came and checked Seraph - and probably reported to his superiors that the prisoner was ready to be interrogated. Either way, Seraph was put in shackles and taken to an interrogation room of some sort. It was a dimly lit chamber, with a simple metal table and two chairs.

The battle with Sage still wore on his body. He wasn't in any pain, but his powers hadn't returned either. Seraph was virtually defenseless in the face of his persecutors.

The door swung open and a single man walked in. The light blinded Seraph's vision for a second, but the individual carried with him the regal weight of authority. The Imperial stepped forward into view. Seraph could now make out his features. And his jaw dropped in utter shock. "But you're…supposed to be…dead!" he managed.

"I'm afraid it's a lot more difficult to kill the likes of me," Thrawn's smoothly modulated voice replied. "As you can see, I am very much alive." His eyes burned with cold fury. "And I want Nuso Esva."

…

"I don't like this," Parck murmured to the Security Chief. "Commander, are you sure this will work?"

Lieutenant Commander P'tok turned to the captain and shrugged in his flamboyant Arthropedic gesture, tendrils shriveling the entire time. "This is the first I have ever heard of a Grand Admiral conducting an interrogation. It was his idea to begin with."

Parck stared back through the viewing glass disguised as a mirror on the other side. The comment P'tok gave wasn't very reassuring. "I don't like this one bit."

…

"Now tell me," Thrawn continued with an ambitious glaze "everything you know."

"I don't know what Nuso Esva has to do with what's going on Manajra," Seraph started "but I do know about his partner."

"Yes, I already know about his contact in the Imperial military," Thrawn commented. "I will deal with him after I have Nuso Esva."

"I'm not talking about Grand Admiral Grant," said Seraph. He paused a moment to let the statement sink in.

It did. Thrawn's glaze vanished and turned deadly grim. "There's another."

"Yes, and he's more dangerous than Nuso Esva," Seraph said.

"Then you don't know Nuso Esva," Thrawn replied. "I assure you, he's manipulating events from behind the scenes."

"So is Sage," Seraph shot back, "and I assure you that's he's manipulating Nuso Esva. He's pulled the wool over all of our eyes on Manajra."

"Sage," Thrawn murmured more to himself than anyone else. "What an odd name. Ok, let's start from the beginning."

"Manajra is ruled by the Kore," Seraph began. "Originally, there were seven Kore, each one being a representative of seven Manajrans that sealed away the Anti-Force six kilocons ago."

"The Anti-Force?" Thrawn repeated, lowering his voice.

"In Manajran religion, the Anti-Force is the harbinger of death seeking to devour all life. He searches for every trace of the Force and eliminates it. If he destroys the entire universe, he destroys the Force."

"And himself along with it," Thrawn finished.

"The Anti-Force doesn't care whether he is destroyed or not. He exists to bring balance to things. For every good there is an evil, for the Force there is the Anti-Force."

"Makes sense," Thrawn commented. "Now what does this have to do with the real world?"

"Sage claims to be a servant of the Anti-Force," Seraph continued. "I'm sure you noticed something above Manajra on your way into the system."

"The singularity," Thrawn answered.

"We call it the Reckoning," Seraph said. "It was the weapon the Manajrans used to seal away the Anti-Force. Its power is drawn directly from Manajra, which our ancient texts said was born directly from the Force."

"Well, that explains how I lost my ship," Thrawn said, "and a good number of my crew as well," he added the last note with a hint of anger.

"The Reckoning hasn't fully awakened yet. If Sage unleashes its full power, he'll release the Anti-Force."

"And you…actually believe this?" Thrawn enquired cocking a blue-black eyebrow.

"I don't know what to believe," Seraph answered honestly. "The Kore receive their powers by wearing crystals mined from Manajran mountains. We have no inherent abilities of our own, but the crystals endow us with incredible energies from the Force." "But Sage," he shuddered, "is something else entirely." His eyes looked at Thrawn pleadingly. "He's from another world, Grand Admiral, a world beyond this existence."

"Tell me about Reckoning," Thrawn prodded. "Why did you build it?"

"I told you, the ancient text says that the seven ancient ones built it to seal away the Anti-Force," Seraph replied, growing tired of rehashing the story. "According to legend, there were seven signet seals placed on the Anti-Force. They were located on different worlds throughout the galaxy. Reckoning is one of the seals."

"If it sealed such a dangerous being, why use the weapon?" Thrawn retorted.

"Because everything on Manajra is a lie!" Seraph shouted. "The Kore, our way of life, everything! We use crystals from the planet to rule our world. We have no Force abilities of our own. We enforce a religion that has no merit. We claim to serve the Force, Thrawn, but we only serve ourselves." He gazed down at the table in exhaustive defeat. "Our ancestors destroyed all technology on our planet. We were supposed to live peaceful lives separated from the other species. The scriptures say the seven ancients destroyed their ships to keep any Manajran from destroying the signet seals that lock the Anti-Force away.

"But Emperor Palpatine changed everything. His dark hand spread across the galaxy as he subjugated all under his dominion. Billions of lives suffered under that tyrant. We couldn't stand it any longer. When he died, Nuso Esva approached us and said that the Emperor could return if he were allowed. Sage suggested for us to use the Reckoning to stop him. We did as he requested."

"So…," Thrawn said rubbing his chin thoughtfully, "you were willing to use Reckoning even though it supposedly contained such a powerful menace that could threaten the galaxy. You sound as though you don't believe your own scriptures."

"We didn't," Seraph said. "Like I told you, everything on Manajra was a lie. So was our faith in the Force. We didn't believe the sacred texts' warnings about Reckoning. We used religion to control the people so that they would serve us. In the end, what we served was the very evil that we abhorred. And we've unleashed that evil upon the galaxy."

The glowing red eyes bored into Seraph's, as if he were studying him like a specimen. For a few moments, neither said anything. "All right, I think I have enough to go on," Thrawn finished and stood up. He inclined his head slightly. "Thank you for your cooperation." He turned around and proceeded to head out the door.

"You can't handle Sage, Grand Admiral," Seraph tried again. "He is far more powerful than your own comprehension."

Thrawn didn't turn to face Seraph, but his head did look back. "I doubt it; I can comprehend very much. But it's Nuso Esva that I'm after. He's the real threat."

Seraph sighed in defeat. As Thrawn walked out the door, the Kore's own fate left in the hands of the Imperials, one last thought came to his mind.

I hope you're right Grand Admiral Thrawn.

…

The viewing room door opened, and Grand Admiral Thrawn stepped inside. "Well, Commander, what do you think?" he enquired.

"He was telling the truth, Admiral," P'tok answered, bristling his tendrils down his back. "His facial gestures and body language gave no indication of deceit. We also monitored his heart rate and breathing patterns. Other than undergoing the stresses of an interrogation, the patterns were completely in normal parameters."

Thrawn turned his head to Parck. "And you're thoughts, Captain?"

Parck was caught off guard. "Me? Well, I, uh," he cleared his throat. "Well, he didn't reveal much about Nuso Esva's plot."

"Oh he revealed plenty," Thrawn countered, a small smile crossed the shadow of his face. "Nuso Esva is after the Reckoning weapon. If he controls Reckoning, he will have access to a Force-like weapon of unimaginable magnitude."

"And what about all that talk of this Sage and the Anti-Force?" Parck prompted.

"I doubt the religious stories have any truth at all," said Thrawn. "More than likely they were fabricated to ward off anyone from using such a dangerous weapon. This Sage is nothing more than a tool used by Nuso Esva to get to Reckoning."

"Our friend in there certainly believes in the stories," P'tok spoke up. "At least now he does," he amended.

"He may," Thrawn acknowledged, "but it makes no difference to us. This whole scenario reeks of Nuso Esva. He is the one pulling the strings. I guarantee it."

"Yes, well," Parck started, changing the subject, "I'd thought you like to know, Admiral that the scouts just got back from their entourage through the forest. They report a sizable village not too far from here where we can get fresh supplies."

Thrawn cocked a blue-black eyebrow. "That's excellent news, Captain. We were only able to take the bare essentials with us in the escape pods. What's the crew complement that have made their way to the camp settlements."

"Parck pulled out a data card from his tunic and scrolled through the listing reports. "Another three pods have been recovered. However, of the Admonitor's thirty-seven thousand crew complement, only five-thousand made it to the camp settlements. There's still no telling of how many were still on the ship when she crashed."

"Yes," Thrawn replied grimly. "I usually am not one to wreak vengeance, but I swear that I will avenge everyone that was lost in this battle."

"Including the Admonitor."

The klaxons suddenly started blaring as red lights flashed overhead in the viewing room.

"Are we under attack?!" Parck blurted out. "From whom?"

"No Captain, I'm afraid not," Thrawn answered, but he wasn't looking at Parck. He was staring through the glass window.

The captive was gone.

…

Seraph rematerialized somewhere in the forest just outside the Imperial camp. The tent-like structures were well constructed, for metal buildings anyway. He wondered how such buildings could be put together so quickly.

But there was no time to waste. His powers hadn't recovered fully, but the Imperials left the crystal bracelets on his wrists allowing Seraph to transport out of the facility. His powers were starting to return.

He tried to warp again, but nothing happened. Well, maybe his powers were more like flickering lights. He would have to travel on foot. Setting himself to a nice jog, he stretched his legs and breathed in a good dose of oxygen as he made distance between himself and the Imperial camp.

Maybe it was blind luck, or the guidance of the Force, or whatever, but after only a few minutes of running Seraph approached a clearing in the thicket of the woods and came across the shrine he originally wanted to reach. He didn't know how much time had passed by since he passed out, maybe a day or so, but he hoped that Damien would be waiting for him.

"It's about time you got here, Seraph," Damien's voice called out from the shrine. "What took you so long?"

Seraph stood still, his eyes transfixed as Damien walked out of the temple, his cape billowing in the wind. The clouds had grown even greyer than before he passed out.

"Damien," he muttered under his breath.

…

Folding his arms in rigid composure, Damien looked controlled and emotionless. But beneath the cold exterior, anger swelled up inside him at the site of Knowledge. "Seraph, how could you betray me?" he demanded.

"How could I betray you?!" Seraph retorted swinging his arm out in dramatic effect. "We're like brothers, you and me! Damien, we've been manipulated by Sage all along."

"Are you out of your mind, Seraph?" said Damien. "I'd never let anyone twist my mind and derail my plans for the galaxy. Not even you!"

"Damien!" Seraph protested. "It's not your plan anymore is it brother?!"

That last comment shook Damien. He began to open his mouth to offer a rebuttal, but no words came out.

"Think back to our original objectives," said Seraph. "They weren't anything like this. We were supposed to save the galaxy from Emperor Palpatine, not rule in his wake! You're Sage's puppet now! You're being used!"

"So you thought it best to take matters in your own hands and steal the Reckoning key?" Damien countered. "Why didn't you come to me first? Why didn't you trust me!?"

"I was about to, but Sage intercepted me," Seraph replied. "He wounded me, and I had to escape. So I came here," he finished staring at the ground. "We both came here when we were kids. Whenever we were in trouble this was the place we'd go. Remember?"

Slowly, Damien unfolded his arms. "I remember," he said. "That's why I knew I'd find you here. Now tell me what's going on dammit! What are you bottling up inside?"

"It's Sage-!"

And that was all Seraph got out before a white wave of energy washed over him. He had just enough time to cross his arms over his chest and face before the wave slammed into him head on. With a scream of agony that could shake windows, Seraph howled at the pain coursing through his body.

Damien turned around in total shock and surprise; his eyes came to bear on the familiar figure that released the blast. "Sage!" he roared.

The blast subsided leaving a gaping scar in the ground, and Seraph could no longer stand. Whatever energy he had recovered was completely lost now. He collapsed on his knees in the trench, the earth surrounding completely stripped of life.

Hovering down near Damien floated the dark-robed figure of Sage, crystal ball and pale hands caressing lightly over it. "Seraph has deceived you, my lord," he bellowed. "He's a liar and a traitor, and you know what we do to traitors of the Kore, even if he is a fellow Kore."

"Sage is the traitor," Seraph managed through the pain, gripping his bad arm again. Damien turned to look at him, pain and fear in his eyes. "He's trying to release the Anti-Force!" Knowledge continued.

"Enough, traitor!" boomed Sage as he summoned another wave of energy. "I will silence you this time for good!"

Turning back around in protestation, Damien snapped, "Stop it, Sage!" But it was futile. The wave soared just past Damien; he raised his arms up as the light screamed by him. He turned back around in time to see the blast reach its intended target. Seraph couldn't move, or didn't have time to make a move. It was too late for him.

With one last scream, the life drained out of the Kore of Knowledge as he fell to the ground. "SERAPH!" Damien shouted in horror.

Rushing to Seraph's side, he barely even noticed a small dark crystal float out of the man's pocket and land in Sage's hands.

"Ah, with the Reckoning key back in our possession we can continue with our operation," Sage said. Hollow and melodious his voice was, the words seemed to bounce right off of Damien. "Forget about this cowardly traitor. He got what he deserved."

"Damien," Sage growled. "We have much to do. Come!" Damien spun around to face Sage, but the Kore had already disappeared.

He completely ignored Sage's blatant lack of respect and insubordination. He didn't care. Walking over to Seraph's broken body Damien kneeled down and gently picked him up.

A drop of water fell on Damien's cheek. The rain was about to come down. The sound of boots trampled on the ground. The Kore of Light barely noticed. A group of white armored individuals approached Damien.

And in the midst of them stood a blue-skinned, red-eyed alien with a sparkling white uniform. This Grand Admiral Thrawn no doubt that Damien had heard from Nuso Esva. The soldiers raised their guns at Damien. As if they could do any harm to him.

But Thrawn waved them off. Regarding Damien slightly, he nodded in honorable respect. Damien walked up the shrine steps and proceeded to lay Seraph's body to rest.

"Sage," he cursed.