3.19 Tremors of the Ancient Past 4
USSExplorer
Doing what's necessary, even if it causes chaos
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A/N: As always, a huge thank you to those helping with lore and planning for this and my other stories.
And again, this chapter was released to those of sufficient rank on the story's Discord (it pays to talk) about a month ago. For those who support my writing, then it was released between 2 to 7 months ago (and those supporters can also access chapters that far in advance).
Dooku had mentioned that there would be challenges when we entered a moment ago, yet, even though I heard his words and was anticipating danger, the way the Force was behaving was unexpected. What, perhaps, made it more ominous was the chamber I had stepped into.
The light on my helmet had activated, yet the beam was swallowed by the darkness in the chamber, failing to reach the other side. Taking another step forward and turning my head, I examined the walls once the beam was able to locate them. With Dooku and Maul a few steps behind me, and the others following them, the light from my armour illuminated giant statues of Sith warriors that rose to the ceiling; something that was easily fifty metres above us.
Of the half dozen statues, the light passed over, I noticed that while each warrior was dressed the same, in their hands they held different weapons. Not one of which was a lightsaber. Turning to the other side, I saw the pattern repeated by the statues there. Longswords, spears, pikes, axes, war hammers, and other weapons from eras that were ancient when the banished Jedi, under the leadership of Ajunta Pall, claimed domination over the Sith species.
These statues were placed to show some sort of legacy from Pall, or perhaps even from Adas, all the way through the aeons until Vitiate became the Emperor of this Sith Empire. The way the eye sockets of the statues, devoid of any feature, seemed to follow the light from my helmet, and then those from HK, Simvyl, and Anakin as they entered, only added to a room that seemed designed to instil terror in those unworthy of stepping into the Emperor's presence.
The only sounds within the chamber were our footfalls, each echoing off the walls around us as we spread out slightly, and the roar of the storm that raged over the Palace outside. The floor was a mixture of crimson and onyx tiles, each seeming to pulse with intent while part of some grand design that both beckoned one deeper into the chamber while trying to instil fear and terror within the minds of those present.
I pushed forward confidently, assured that I deserved to be here and that no echo of any Sith, no matter how powerful they had been, would deny me the answers I sought from this place. As my feet passed a seemingly arbitrary mark on the floor, a roar rushed around the walls. My lightsaber came up, and my feet shifted, ready to face whatever challenge was about to be unleashed. Yet as I stood there ready to strike, a position copied by the others, what happened was not the threat I expected, or at least not a direct threat.
Around the walls, between the statues, braziers that had been hidden in the darkness roared to life, bathing the chamber in an eerie, almost demonic violet light. The light flickered off the walls behind each brazier, which were polished to perfectly reflect the light and create a wondrous yet cavernous appearance that made the chamber appear to be several times greater than it truly was.
Sensing a ripple of fear and concern from behind me, I turned and moved towards Anakin. "Relax," I said gently as I placed my hand on his shoulder. "There is nothing here that will harm you. Not without having to go through me first," I added with a smile that, while he couldn't see, he should be able to sense as I pushed a burst of comfort to him through the Force. "Remember your training and be aware of your surroundings. Both here and within the Force."
There was a short pause, during which I felt his mental defences harden as he took my words on board. "Yes, sir," he replied, and while there was a speck of uncertainty in his tone, the majority was confident.
I squeezed his shoulder, something his HUD would report, and then turned around, moving toward one of the various statues, wanting to get a better look at it. As I approached, noting that this warrior held a two-headed axe with a shaft around half as tall as the statue, I took in the design. Beyond being composed of the same obsidian as the walls, there were inlaid stones. Onyx, rubies, kuggerags, and other rare stones were all placed carefully into the obsidian, the layout mimicking the Sith script I'd seen on the doors of the Palace, along with on the Imperial Throne in the Dark Council Chambers.
Within the Force, I could feel the power that rested in these arrangements. As if awaiting some hidden command to flare and bring the statue to life. I stepped back, cautious that getting too close to one might trigger that to happen. While the threat of a statue, or even the dozens that lay around the circular walls of this chamber, was no true challenge in theory, I didn't wish to risk the danger. Nor was I, like some weak fool who might somehow gain entry here, seeking to remove the gems because of their worth.
Looking upwards, I saw that the ceiling high above us was apparently devoid of markings. The still blackness of it was seemingly the only threat it posed. Yet within the Force, I could feel the energy of the room centring there around some unseen point. Ready, seemingly, to strike down at any deemed unworthy of passing beyond this chamber.
As I neared the far side of the room, I felt something shift in the Force. An almost imperceivable change from ahead, beyond the massive doors that led deeper into the Palace. As had been the case for so long with places linked to the former Emperor Vitiate, it seemed to resonate within my soul, urging me to move forward. To claim something that I didn't know was waiting for me. I pushed that whispered clarion call aside, but continued moving toward the only exit from our current chamber.
Once near the door leading from this chamber, I paused, knowing that my next step would see the path become further revealed. I took the moment to look back at those with me. HK was his ever-vigilant self, his optical sensors scanning the room, his circuits no doubt trying to understand how the chamber buzzed with energy while there were no obvious power conduits.
Simvyl was near the droid, his rifle scanning the room slowly as he moved across it. Of those on this mission, he was probably the least suited for it. Yet, as had been the case since Zonama Sekot, he came, fulfilling his vow to stand at my side. At times I felt as if I overlooked or neglected him, but his constant presence was oddly reassuring; the only – to use HK's word – meatbag with me who wasn't highly attuned to the Force. That difference had come in handy on occasion, and I would never discard his service because of it.
Between the pair, Anakin moved, looking every inch the little Mando'ade he was. My shoto was at his hip, the shorter blade suiting him until he either located a crystal he felt a connection to, or I decided to let him attempt to craft one himself. To do that was something only one who had walked into the Dark Side and remained in control of themselves was capable of achieving, and while many would question my choice to begin training him in the darker aspects of the Force, I knew he had the inclination to not just use that power, but master it. He was born of the Force and was a conduit for it, unlike anything the galaxy had seen in millennia, if not ever.
Perhaps the path I was walking with him was one some would consider insane, but it was one that the Force had shown us we had to walk. The only way to ensure the galaxy wasn't plunged into a darkness from which it might never recover was if we stood together. The visions making that clear had been some of the clearest I had ever experienced, and while I didn't consider myself a master of understanding the Force, nor did I place faith in what it showed was the only path, I felt, in that instance, I had been aligned with Anakin and the Force perfectly. Whatever it took to see the future I felt was best for the majority of the galaxy, not just for me or Anakin, was the one I would pursue, regardless of where it took me.
Aside from myself, Maul and Dooku were the most prepared and capable for whatever lay ahead, with both holding their lightsabers ignited at their sides, ready to strike if threatened. Dooku's poise, refinement, and apparent civility acted as the perfect counter for Maul's caged but controlled rage. Each was powerful in the Force and would use it how they deemed necessary, but they did so in ways that the other might not consider. Perhaps in time, some of Dooku's elegance would rub off on Maul, or that the Zabrak's ability to summon the rage of the Dark Side could be fully harnessed by my former Jedi Master. However, for now, they were ideal complements for each other with my approach lying somewhere between them, and without being arrogant, acting as the glue that kept them, and the rest of the group, together.
Dooku nodded when he saw my helmet turned to him and the others, as if assuring me that he remained ready. Shifting my focus back to the exit from this chamber, I took a step forward. As I did so, the floor beneath me lit up; whatever arcane way the Force was being funnelled around this chamber was reacting to my presence.
While I watched, ready for anything to happen but not sensing a threat, the ominous red light of the floor shifted around, gliding around and illuminating a pattern. One I pulled from my memory of the Imperial Citadel to match a series of Sith glyphs on the door behind the Imperial Throne.
The light travelled over the floor, expanding the enlarged Sith symbols that carried importance to the Emperor, but I remained unclear on what was stated, never mind what was implied. The light travelled up the door to the next section of the Palace, marking out the frame of the two panels that made the door, enabling everyone to more easily locate it against the polished obsidian of the walls of the chamber.
As I moved closer, the doors swung open, inviting us to traverse deeper into the darkness – both metaphorical and literal – that was the Imperial Palace. The sensation that something important to me, something that might reshape my future, grew stronger when the doors opened, and it felt as if a siren's call was singing to me, tempting me to move forward and discover something that would redefine everything. None of this made any sense to me, as I simply couldn't have any connection to Vitiate, yet the draw that I'd been experiencing ever since approaching Dromund Kaas beat like the drums of war within the Force, calling me forward.
Taking a cautious first step, I moved into the next section of the Palace. As the light flowed from the now-opened doors along the walls, it was clear we were entering a large corridor or hall. One that, like the previous chamber, I felt was designed to not just display the might of the Emperor, but test those summoned to determine if they were truly worthy of standing before their leader and ruler.
From some unseen location, a deep, resonant hum filled the air. The HUD failed to locate the sound, never mind the source, yet I could feel it inside me, rattling through my bones as if I was being weighed and judged. Behind me, as they emerged into the hall, I suspected the others were undergoing something similar; another probable test of our worthiness to stand before the Emperor. Or in our case, the echo of him that remained deep within his Palace.
Moving forward, my eyes took in the murals that lined the start of the hall. They were almost identical to those that covered some of the external walls of the Palace near the main entrance. Depictions of the fall of a previous Sith Empire began the display, before one figure – Vitiate, no doubt – gathered the survivors, placing them onto ships that reminded me oddly of arcs, and then guided them to their new homes.
"Rather full of himself," I muttered to myself. I would, however, admit that if Vitiate had done all he claimed, if he was the same Sith who had led the survivors of the Great Hyperspace War to this world and helped rebuild their people into an empire that had controlled half the galaxy for a time, then he had the right to be arrogant.
Each step forward seemed to cause the pull within me to grow stronger, though I did my best to ignore it. Instead, I focused on the potential for danger, for some hidden test or trap that might spring into existence because of one wrong step, or the slightest hint radiated into the Force that we were not members of this long-dead Sith Empire.
The floor beneath me, as was quickly becoming a common trope, was polished black stone, likely still Obsidian or some other such substance. There were neither markings engraved into it nor any separate slabs, just a single block beyond massive as the hall seemed to stretch on forever. Gemstones that had been carved to perfection. No doubt the work of Force Alchemy, though the Jedi would consider it akin to the creation of Sithspawn like the defeated Terentatek or the tuk'ata that supposedly guarded the tombs of the greatest Sith Lords on Korriban. Perhaps there were some even deep in the jungles of Dromund Kaas, though I'd yet to feel any hint that Fenrir had encountered more of his kind in his exploration.
The murals ended, replaced by, rather oddly, a row of mirrors on each side. I slowed my pace, such as it was, mindful and curious as to the purpose of the mirrors. Gazing into the first, I saw only my reflection. No hint of some hidden trick or illusion, be that something my armour's sensors could detect or within the Force. Yet as I moved on, I saw the minute changes in my appearance.
A point of discolouration of my armour on my right thigh, the beskad missing from my hip, only to be replaced in the next mirror by what appeared to be the Darksaber. The colour patterns of my armour changed, from the dominant black that represented justice to a dark grey for a lost loved one. The next image showed gold becoming more prominent on my armour, signalling a desire for vengeance. That then faded to a dull yellow of remembrance along with maroon and scarlet for power and defiance.
Changing colours on one's armour was entirely natural, yet as I moved down the hall, my image changing slightly in each mirror, it was as if I was seeing my future. Or a possible one played out by the changes in my armour. Not just the colour, but the weaponry. What I carried now was lethal, but much of it remained tied to simply taking down a target quickly. The later reflections I saw, the additions to the armour were focused on carnage, chaos, and damage. No care was given to how it might affect others, only that the weaponry chosen was efficient and brutal.
I couldn't help but wonder what events had shaped this path the mirrors were displaying. What insanity had seen me turn from a focused warrior into one that, based on armour colour and weaponry, seemed to enjoy the carnage I brought. Closing my eyes, I shook my head, dismissing those thoughts. The Dark Side was trying to confuse me, to show me something that would happen unless I submitted to it, and the will of the Emperor. That I knew would not happen.
When my eyes opened, the reflection had changed. I still saw myself, yet the armour was gone, and a moment later I realised I was looking at myself. The me from before Naboo and the path I'd walked since. As I moved down the hall, that reflection changed, growing into what I was today minus the armour, and instead in dark robes. Something akin to what Anakin had worn in the other timeline before he submitted to Sidious and the Dark Side.
I watched as this version of me, this possible future, aged. To my disgust, a beard reminiscent of Dooku's formed on my chin. It was not because I disliked his beard, but that I'd sworn to never grow one. Yet this version of me, one that appeared to remain closer to the Light Side if I had to guess, chose that option. As my reflection grew older, the scene behind him changed.
The unmistakable images of war slowly became bolder, though the details remained hazy. As if the mirrors wouldn't show me the specifics of this path. I growled as I saw myself fighting alongside Yoda and Windu against two figures cloaked in shadow. Sidious and Plagueis. All five combatants swirled around the reflection, their movements and blade colours – mine was purple and black there -merging into a symphony of colour.
The duel faded away, and the figure that appeared of me now stood with two others. Their appearance made me pause, and I moved closer to the mirror, generating this reflection. How was it possible for me to stand with Revan and Bastila? Revan was gone before I was reborn into this world, and Bastila was a very old lady. Yet here they appeared no older than me, younger even in Bastila's case if I had to guess.
You are not yet what you must be.
My head snapped to the side, looking into the distance, further down the hall into the shadows that awaited me. The voice, one that echoed in the Force, was that of my mother's. Of that I was sure. Yet she had never been here, never set foot in Sith Space from all the records I'd seen.
I shook my head, growling as I did so. The Force bent to my demands, and I pushed out my presence, dismissing the tricks the Dark Side and the remnant of the Emperor were trying to play upon me. I was not their tool or toy; I was not theirs to direct and control. Their time was over. It was my time now.
With a snarl, I lashed out, not just quieting the voice that had dared take on the persona of my mother, but obliterating it. Whatever vile thread had lingered in the Force to create that was reduced to nothing. No one would use my family, living, dead, or still to come, against me. Not without facing my fury in response.
Yet even as I obliterated the source of the voice, I swore I heard a deep, primal, powerful laugh within the Force. One that seemed to vibrate through my bones and echo in my soul. A sense that someone, the Emperor I suspected, was amused by my reaction.
I growled but retained control over my emotions. This, all the reflections so far and whatever else lay ahead, was a test. It was not just to prove I was worthy to stand in his presence, but to learn what drew me deeper into the Palace. What secrets lay hidden somehow bound me to Vitiate.
After securing my mind against another attempt to distract and trick me, I moved forward. This time, I ignored the mirrors, aware of their purpose and unwilling to give them any further chance to distract or influence me. Behind me, the others no doubt faced tests of their own, ones that would challenge them in ways they might not be prepared for. However, I had passed mine and would push onwards. Whatever secrets this Palace contained would be revealed, and I would take everything of value from it.
The hall ran on for another five minutes, the mirrors continuing to provide reflections, though my gaze was never theirs to claim. I wouldn't fall for their deceptions again, and soon I found myself before a large, ornately carved set of doors. The pull that had grown stronger with each step now seemed to dominate the Force around me, hinting that the answers I sought were just beyond, ready for me to claim.
The doors came alive with light, dark purples and reds swirling in the runes of the door. A single figure was carved into them, their eyes gazing down upon us as if challenging us one final time. From the various recordings taken from the Citadel, this was Vitiate, the Emperor who had ruled here for centuries.
"I sense whatever lies beyond will change things." My eyes remained on the door, mindful of the carved gaze of Vitiate as my former Master spoke. "For all of us certainly, but for you most of all, Cameron."
"The pull," I began slowly, "it's stronger now than it's ever been. It wants… needs me to enter so I can discover what is going on."
"We're here for you."
A small smile came to my face under my helmet at Anakin's words and the certainty he had that he, along with the others, would stand with and protect me from whatever lay beyond. "I know, and yet…" I paused, the words I sought not quite forming for a moment. "What lies beyond these doors… It will change me in some way. Of that I'm sure."
"Then face the challenge and defeat it. That is what a warrior should do."
That statement came not from Maul but Simvyl, who had, as had become common since Kiffu, been more withdrawn. I didn't doubt his loyalty, just that he understood his importance in decision-making for our group had diminished. First with the arrival of Quinlan, and now with Dooku and Maul with us on Dromund Kaas.
I nodded, confirming his words, and then moved closer to the door. Unlike the previous one, this didn't open as I neared. Instead, I had to press my palm against it. A shiver raced up my spine as I felt a direct connection to the echo of Vitiate that lingered here. For a moment, I was still, the echo pushing against my mind. Not to gain entry or control, but to judge me to determine if I was worthy of entrance.
What felt very much like an amused chuckle came from the echo before it pulled back. As it did, I felt the doors give, and they swung open without me having to truly push them. A signal perhaps that I had passed whatever test the echo had put me through. With the doors now open, I stepped forward, ready to discover what was calling me here and end the mystery that had lingered for nearly two weeks.
The chamber I stepped into reminded me slightly of both the Dark Council Chambers and the Jedi Council Chamber. It was large and circular, creating the impression that all who entered were equal. Contradicting this, however, was the raised dais, one that extended from a large, imposing door on the far wall while also circling along the wall to two smaller doors that couldn't be easily accessed and had no way to climb up to it, making it clear that one figure was above all. The dais was a good ten metres above the floor that we emerged into the chamber, ending near the centre of the chamber in a circular stand.
At the circular end of the dais rested the Throne of Emperor Vitiate. Even a cursory glance at it had me certain that no figure bar Vitiate had ever sat on that throne. Beyond the back of it being three metres high, ending in sharp spikes and being framed by what the HUD confirmed was platinum, and with gems inlaid in the throne and metal that glowed as they formed the shapes of Sith runes and glyphs, everything about the Throne demanded attention and was where Vitiate had spoken with those beneath him when away from the Dark Council Chambers.
I moved slowly forward into the chamber, my eyes on the throne while I remained alert for any threat. The Force was thicker here than it had been at any other place on the planet so far, and yet oddly not. As if I could see a path through the stormy fog that engulfed the Palace. A path that led directly towards the Throne.
The more I stared at the Throne, the more the pull towards it grew stronger. A phantom allure that tugged at my soul, and I struggled to resist. The Dark Side was oddly still around me, even as I felt it gather around the others as they entered the chamber. I knew they were being tested to prove their worth to stand before the Emperor. I, however, was being summoned to the Throne to kneel before whatever remained of Vitiate.
As I came closer, I saw that the dais wasn't as impassable as I'd initially believed. There were levels there, though each was a step that resembled a climb up a mountainside, one where if the climber failed, they would be condemned to the deepest, darkest pools of the Force.
The Dark Side grew heavier the closer I moved to the dais, yet it continued to beckon me onwards. Each step felt as if the weight of the world was being added anew to my shoulders, yet the HUD reported no change in any metrics it could understand.
I blinked, swearing that for a moment I'd seen energy dancing between the spikes that rose at the back of the Throne. Physical manifestations of the Dark Side that the Throne controlled. Yet the HUD failed to sense them, making my mind question what was real in this chamber. What my eyes and the armour's sensors could detect, or what I could feel with every pore and nerve in my body.
My chest grew heavy, each breath laboured as I reached the base of the dais. Behind me, I thought I heard someone speak; a warning to stop, perhaps. Yet the words failed to register with my mind, and I lifted one leg to climb the first step of the dais.
Time felt as if it was slowing around me as I ascended the dais. Each step was a fight against the Dark Side, even as I was summoned upwards. I could feel the remnant of Vitiate against the edges of my mind. An indistinct voice teasing and challenging me as I rose. He knew what was happening. He understood why I was pulled towards his Throne. The voice, in words spoken in a language I didn't know, seemed to encourage, torment, threaten, and persuade in equal measure.
As I climbed the last step of the dais and stood before the Throne, my eyes scanned its surface, drawn to the markings upon it. Power radiated from the Throne, both that the sensors of my armour could sense, and within the Force.
The armrests were adorned with Sith iconography intermingled with what appeared to be lightsabers that extended from the backrest to the end of the arms. On each end, where the grooves for fingers to rest, was a repeated symbol. One that I recalled seeing above the entrance to the Emperor's chamber in the Dark Council Chambers. The mark of this Sith Empire, and in many ways the sigil of Vitiate, was undoubtedly one that Sidious had drawn inspiration from during the creation of the seal of the Galactic Empire in the other timeline.
The seat itself appeared both designed for a ruler and yet inherently uncomfortable. As if some twisted reminder that power should never be taken for granted, nor the danger it represented ignored. Whoever sat here had to remain ever vigilant of threats, both from external forces and those who had sworn their loyalty, lives, and even souls to their Emperor.
The Force crackled around the Throne, pulsing with almost malignant intent into the Force; what I was now certain was the source of Vitiate's echo. The Throne was fundamentally connected to him that even after he had been destroyed – defeated in some way that supposedly removed his very essence from lingering in the Force – something of him was able to linger here. That lingering remnant was no doubt why none had ever tried to breach the Imperial Palace, or at least managed to gain entry to the Throne Room. The south wing of the complex was rubble, so some had succeeded in gaining some form of entry, but, beyond that, the place was immaculately preserved.
I powered down my lightsaber and attached it to my hip before I moved to remove the gauntlet covering my remaining flesh limb. My fingers glided over the surface of the arm, careful not to touch anything. The Throne called to me, demanding and pleading with me to sit upon it, to claim what was mine. It promised power of untold depths while offering the promise to reshape the galaxy. To wipe clean the scourge of the Jedi and the falsehoods of the Sith pretenders who followed the teachings of Darth Bane. Of the chance to, with the power it contained, reforge the Empire and bring the galaxy to its knees.
The offer tempted me. That I wouldn't deny. The chance to wield the power I felt from the Throne, to take whatever remained of Vitiate's power for myself, called to me on a primal level. The opportunity to take what was before me and use it to create the universe I desired. Yet, I knew there was something more to the offer, something hidden and untold that would harm me and those I cared for, and therefore I rejected the offer.
Yet, even though I had no intention of sitting on the Throne, I was drawn to it. That there was something here beyond the simple lure of power that tugged at my soul. As my fingers touched the surface of one of the armrests, I gasped as my mind was assaulted by the power of the Dark Side, mingled with what lingered of Vitiate's essence.
Around me, the air grew heavy, seemingly rippling with energy that pounded from the Throne with such intensity that the armour's sensors failed to detect anything but the Throne. While the Battlenet failed, I felt my connections to the others within the Force wither away, cutting me off from their aid. My body struggled to move as it felt as if the armour I wore, something that was a part of who I was, turned from protection and a connection to the culture I'd adopted into a prison from which, with the Dark Side swarming around me as it attempted to shatter my resolve, there appeared no escape from.
My mechanical arm stopped moving, becoming little more than a deadweight as I tried and failed to remove my natural fingers from the armrest of the Throne. My heartbeat pounded, the only sound that reached my ears, with an ever-increasing rhythm; a drum sounding a call of chaos and war.
I heard screams born from nothingness echo within my ears, the voices in a hundred thousand tongues that my brain couldn't focus on long enough to even attempt to recognise, never mind decipher. The only thing about the screams was that I somehow knew that they had stood before the Throne, before the Emperor, and been deemed unworthy, that what I was enduring was their last moments before Vitiate consumed their souls.
The ground beneath me seemed to shift, swirling around and slowly encasing my boots, ensuring that even if my limbs would obey, or the armour would protect me, I couldn't escape. That my fate was the same as every pathetic fool that had dared challenge the Emperor's will. Within my closed eyes, colours began to run into each other, merging, mixing, and separating in orders that made no sense and only served to increase the pressure my mind was under. Everything and anything that I could understand was wrong, and everything that I couldn't screamed, shouted, and demanded that I accept my fate. That I allow myself to be consumed and destroyed by a power greater than any I could ever hope to match.
Within the Force, I felt myself being torn asunder, the Dark Side yielding to whatever remained of Vitiate and acting to remove the latest threat to his legacy. To consume one who dared to claim his power for himself. I could feel the Force clawing at my memories, trying to tear them from my mind, to shred the order and sequence of my life into chaos, and attempting to shatter everything that made me who I was.
Images of my greatest triumphs – defeating the krayt dragon, overcoming Maul on Naboo, qualifying to serve in 2-2 – merged with my worst moments – the months under Vosa's control, the despair at Fay's potential death on Zonama Sekot, my failure to protect Anakin – swirled around in a disordered muddle. My desires for the future, for those I cared about and loved, mixed with my apathy and hatred towards others, confusing friend with foe, lover with joker, those I could trust with faces I'd only seen once. I stood alone in the Force, cut off from everyone and everything that mattered, being ripped apart while the voice of Vitiate, of his echo, rattled around my mind, taking pleasure in the destruction it was commanding.
The obsidian beneath me seemed to melt, drawing me down to my knees and trapping me beside the Throne that I couldn't let go of. My thoughts began to scatter; pulled from me as the Dark Side swarmed through the meagre defences around my mind, while my soul felt the cold claws and teeth of whatever lurked in the darkest recesses of the Dark Side, tearing it apart.
Yet, as I struggled to retain everything that made me who I was, as I fought a losing battle against the Dark Side, I felt something rise up within me. Not the well of rage that lurked deep in my soul, nor any specific memory. No, what I felt, what I latched onto as the only beacon of hope within the madness I was enduring, was a primal, instinctual strength that was everything I could be, everything I wanted to be.
What I felt from deep inside wasn't anything I'd realised was there before, yet as I grasped onto this beacon and focused all my power, will, and control on it, I understood what it was. The combined influence over everything I'd ever done, everywhere I'd ever been, everything I'd ever learnt. It was who I was before, what I was now and what I could become in the future, formed into a single, almost sentient spark. My training from my old life, along with that as a Jedi and Mando'ade merged into one, as yet unfinished being. What many might call my soul.
'Ba'jur bal beskar'gam,' I said to myself within the deepest recesses of my mind as I poured my power inward, strengthening the sentient spark in time with the beating of my heart. My memories of learning with Dooku and Fay began to reform as I fuelled my soul, empowering it as I showed me the path forward.
'Ara'nov, alit.'
The faces of those I cared for, from Bo and Serra, through Anakin, Naz, Dooku, Fay, Padmé, and others, returned to focus, the memories linked to them slowly reconnecting to the points of where my life had intertwined with theirs. The parts of me shaped by them added a layer of armour around the spark, emboldening it as it grew brighter against the darkness that swirled around me, trying to rip everything I was from me.
'Mando'a bal Mand'alor.'
The choices I'd made, in this life and the last, revealed themselves with startling clarity, aligning one by one to trace the path that had led me to this moment. Every action, big or small, important or not, that I had taken had helped create who I was, and I wouldn't allow the echo of this failed Sith Emperor to destroy everything that made me who I was. Not a child of Revan, nor one sent to bring an impossible ideal of mythical balance, but one who would take the galaxy by the scruff of its neck, and no matter how it and those within it might resist, drag it into a glorious future free of the lies of the Jedi and Sith.
'An vencuyan mhi.'
With my sense of self restored, I gathered my power, readying to strike against the attacks from the depths of the Dark Side. When I lashed out, it wasn't to destroy that darkness or burn it from existence. No, I grasped onto it, imposing my will, my power over it.
It fought, empowered as it was by the remnant of Vitiate that lingered here, trying to counter my sudden shift in tactics. The fury and power that lashed against my attempts, battled with my intent, was incredible. The power that lay here could shatter stars and reshape galaxies. It whispered to me to take that power, to remake the galaxy with it.
Those voices and offers were slapped away and ground under my metaphorical heel. I was not a servant of the Force and its deranged desires. No, it was mine to use, mine to control, and mine to direct.
The assaults against the very core of my identity slackened, the power of the Dark Side wielded by Vitiate's echo weakening with each passing moment as I asserted every ounce of my presence over him and the Force as it raged around me. My body, which had previously felt as if it was trapped inside my armour, slowly responded to my demands. I could feel my mechanical limb as it reconnected to my nervous system.
I rose slowly, restoring control over myself as I felt my connections within the Force returning: The chaos that had been assaulting me, intending to shred me from existence, was loosening as I grasped onto it. Each claw, each tendril of its power I touched was consumed by my ironclad will. Its power added to mine.
The air crackled with intent as I opened my eyes, taking in the eddies of the air, weighed down by the Force, as they swirled around me. Flickers of energy, red, purple, and black, snarled in the storm that roared around me. A storm that I was no longer merely at the eye of, but was drawing inward as I consumed the power it possessed.
The faint voice, one now filled with fear, all but begged me to stop. It raged against its defeat, at being forever banished from the galaxy; its power taken by someone greater than it. By me.
I stepped in front of the Throne, sensing the voice radiating from there. I knew this was the echo that had drawn me here, that had tried to trick me with its intent and destroy me so it could use me to reclaim what had once been. Now, as I turned to face the chamber and my hands lowered to brush over the grips of the armrests, that voice, that final, desperate attempt by Vitiate to retain some sense of purpose and life, mewed like a pathetic insect before me, and as I sat, I destroyed it, consigning Vitiate to becoming nothing more than a footnote in history. Another in a long line of failed Sith who had tried to control the galaxy but failed as they inevitably always did.
As my armour touched the surface of the Throne, I felt the last embers of power within it shatter into fragments. Those fragments exploded outward, filling the air with a twisted crimson light that splashed over the walls. The chamber, what I now knew was called The Chamber of Acknowledgement – where those summoned knelt before their emperor and God – flared to life, braziers on the walls igniting as the energy splashed over the walls.
I blinked as I realised where I was, breathing heavily to recover from my ordeal before I looked down at the others. All were watching me, the only one to show no concern was HK. Simvyl's face hinted at concern; however, it was clear that he didn't fully understand what had happened. Only that something monumental had taken place. Anakin's face was hidden by his armour, but I could sense his concern at what I'd just endured and the change that had overcome the Force within the Chamber. Through the Force, I sent him a comforting reassurance, hoping he understood that I was well, though perhaps changed by what I'd just endured.
Maul's gaze was firmly on me, his eyes narrowed slightly, though I failed to sense any anger or rage. What I did sense from him, my ability to feel the minute changes in the Force now seemingly heightened, was an increased sense of respect, with just a hint of envy. I offered him a nod, which he returned, as I sat on the Throne, its energy moving at my command.
When my eyes found Dooku, my former Master simply raised a single eyebrow. I smirked under my helmet at the gesture, oddly reassured by the familiarity, even as I sensed his curiosity at what had just happened along with his pride that I had endured and overcome whatever had just happened to me.
My lips opened so I could begin explaining events, only for me to pause as I felt a pull from the Force. One aimed at a spot on the floor in front of the Throne, between my feet. Leaning down, I concentrated on that spot and pushed at what I felt with the Force.
A section of the dais' floor shifted; the armour's sensors were confused at the change in what it still regarded as one continuous block of obsidian. In the gap, I saw a familiar triangular shape, though before I could move to reach down, the gap was illuminated in light, and the holocron within rose into the air before me.
The eyes of the others were on the holocron as it rose as well, save HK's optical sensors, which turned with him as he began to scan the room, alert to a threat while the rest of us were preoccupied. The holocron stopped rising in front of me, within easy reach. The instinct to simply reach out and touch it, to force the Gatekeeper to reveal its secrets, burned within me. I, however, resisted that temptation, aware of the danger it presented.
Yet even as I stared at the holocron, I felt the familiar pull that had lingered at the edges of my senses ever since we'd arrived in the Dromund system. For a moment, as I'd sat on the Throne and recovered from the ordeal I'd just conquered, that pull had gone silent, yet it returned with interest from the holocron.
As I watched the holocron while it floated before me, I felt the Throne warm. The runes engraved into the armrests came to life, powered by some ancient ritual programmed into them by Vitiate. At the same time, the edges of the red triangular holocron glowed, the markings there the same as those on the armrests. It was almost as if the two items were interconnected within the Force, and, as strange as it still felt, to me.
Beneath me, under the feet of the others, the floor of the Chamber ignited. Dooku and Maul shifted quickly, their lightsabers in their hands, though remaining unpowered. Anakin shifted as well, moving closer to Dooku as the floor glowed with the same light and energy as the Throne. As Simvyl and HK scanned the floor and the walls for any hint of danger, I understood that this was also connected to my claiming of the Throne. Of me becoming the first seemingly since Vitiate to truly assume control of the Empire.
The air stilled as the energy that flowed through the Chamber stopped. I knew everything was waiting for me to grasp the holocron; to prove my worth over the Gatekeeper and learn what secrets it contained. Yet as my eyes returned to the floating red pyramid that teased me with the promise of power and answers to unspoken questions, my hands remained on the armrests of the Throne. Every fibre of me felt the pull from the holocron, and the Force itself willed me to take it, yet I didn't. Not because I feared what I might learn, or that there was some hidden trap that I might not be able to overcome, but because I needed a moment to centre myself and recover from what I'd just endured.
Once I felt ready, and after confirming that Dooku and Maul were prepared to assist me if they were needed – even if I knew they wouldn't be – I lifted my hand, the one made of flesh, and reached out for the holocron. The glow from the holocron was oddly calming; a harbour in the energies of the Dark Side that simmered in the Chamber. Almost as if the draw I felt towards it somehow provided me with clarity amongst the raging dangers that lay within the Force and elsewhere on this world. Yet under that, I felt a pull of a personal kind. The same, I realised as my fingers slowly closed to grasp it, as I had to my mother's holocron. Though back then I'd failed to truly understand or appreciate that pull as my connection to the Force was dampened by the Interface.
As my fingers closed around the holocron, I braced, preparing for the challenge of the Gatekeeper. Yet instead of some direct threat against my person or a challenge as I'd had to endure with the holocrons of Adas and Malgus, my mind was assaulted with images. This time, they weren't of my life, but of others.
As the faces flashed before me, and glimpses of their lives and choices raced before me, I tried to make sense of what I was seeing. A Sith stood on a world, one now dead from some ritual he had completed. An old Human watched as two younger men, his sons, fought each other before one struck down the other. A Sith child looking up at an old figure, his father, as the father walks away, leaving the child to wallow in their rage. A Jedi Master striking down his Padawan, then leading others to kill more Jedi. Senators, diplomats, soldiers, workers, and other citizens of various species stopped what they were doing and killed those around them, sowing chaos and carnage. The same Human male watching, a young girl at his side, as another woman flies away unwillingly.
Each of these figures was, I realised, Vitiate. Or perhaps more accurately, his children. Some were borne from him, though as odd as it felt, I knew they didn't come from his Sith body, but most were simply those he had… shaped. Minds he'd shattered and rebuilt to serve his interests across the galaxy, only called upon when the moment was right.
As the memories flood into my mind, there is a rush of power from the holocron. One that tries to use the distractions to sneak past my defences and assume control over me. To plant some final remnant of Vitiate deep within my psyche.
I call on the spark I discovered when the Throne challenged and attempted to break me. That fire was now easy to grasp and wield; now I know it is there. The power pushing against my mind from the holocron recoils, and I drive it back until it is contained within the ancient artefact. I will not allow some fallen false god to rule over me or claim my body and soul.
'You have returned home, my child.'
The voice that echoed in my head caught me off guard. The power of the holocron didn't, however, seek to take advantage. Instead, the connection it had formed with me remained, and I understood it was the holocron, or more accurately, its creator, Vitiate, who had spoken to me.
'One born not by design, but chance.'
I can't help but frown at that statement, lost as to its meaning. I understood from the earlier visions that he created Children either through some unknown means that hid their parentage as a Sith, or by shattering their minds, but my mind, the core of who I was now, came from outside this universe. He'd had no chance to shape my mind, unless…
I shivered as I contemplated the idea that the man whom my mother had fallen in love with, the older Human Sith, had been one of Vitiate's children. Meaning that in some way I shared a connection to the long-dead Sith Emperor. It made her choice to hide me away with her father and lie about my Force potential even more powerful, and explained why the Sith had come for me so early. I wasn't just the child of some random Sith Lord, but a descendant, in some deranged way, of a pureblood Sith Emperor.
Before I had more time to process that seemingly insane concept, the holocron flared to life. Above it came the projection of a pureblood Sith, one I knew without question was Vitiate.
"At last, one of my seeds returns," the Gatekeeper said slowly, its eyes looking at me, even with my armour on, locking onto my gaze with one of its own. "I had thought the last remnants of what I had built and crafted had been lost. That my legacy had ended when the Empire fell after my defeat."
The eyes of the Gatekeeper narrowed as it looked at me, and I felt a probe from it within the Force. As it found whatever it was searching for, it gave a deep, slightly menacing chuckle. "So, the experiment with the child of Revan bore fruit. How unexpected."
"What experiment?" I asked, trying not to hint I already had a suspicion as to how this body came into existence.
"With one of my Voices, I explored the galaxy, seeking knowledge of what became of Revan's bloodline after I captured him for a second time," the Gatekeeper began to explain. "The effort taken to break down his mind had been exhausting, and curious if I might find an easier way to gain control over his power, I searched for his child. The boy had proven pathetic. Unable to control the Force to even a rudimentary basic degree, but his children… his daughter…"
"My mother."
The Gatekeeper smiled with almost vicious enjoyment as I made the connection it sought. "Yes. I had thought the child lost twice. First, when the reports of your lack of power were falsely reported to the Jedi. Then later, when my spies learnt the truth, I sent agents to bring you before me so that I might mould you. However, those agents failed, dying along with supposedly everyone else where you resided." It paused, and as it lifted one hand to its chin, it leaned forward. "How did you survive?"
I stayed silent, not willing to give it the answers it sought, not least as my mind was a jumble of thoughts as I tried to process the confirmation that I was somehow connected to this long-dead Sith Emperor. The idea had me raging at the insanity of it. There was simply no logical way it should be possible, and yet, remembering what I'd seen when the holocron had been activated and the images that flooded into my mind, I could see how it had happened. Yet the simple fact that I never knew, never realised it until now, caused my soul to almost reject its existence.
Sensing I wouldn't cooperate, the Gatekeeper chuckled and waved the query away with a wave of its hand. "No matter," it continued. "How you survived is inconsequential. All that matters is that, with you claiming my Throne, my legacy will endure. I sense that you have defeated what lingered of my presence in claiming the Throne. Good. I will not have my successor be some weak-willed fool like many of the self-serving Dark Lords on my Council, nor a pathetic servant of the Light Side. No, you are the warrior worthy of my legacy."
"What do you know of me?" I snapped, not liking being compared to a monster like Vitiate.
The Gatekeeper chuckled again. "I know nothing and yet enough," it replied, one hand gesturing at me. "You sit on my Throne; the first to do so other than myself, as otherwise this holocron would've activated before now."
"I'm not you," I snapped, my anger rising slightly at the implication of what the Gatekeeper was saying.
"Perhaps, perhaps not," The Gatekeeper responded calmly. "What you are, however, is my legacy." It raised a hand, and I watched as the dais below where the holocron glowed with a deep violet light. That light spread out, running along the edge of the dais.
I didn't need to turn my head to be aware of what was happening. I could feel it through the Throne. The door behind me, the one that led to Vitiate's private chambers, along with the two other doors I'd seen when I'd first entered the Chamber. The one to my left led to what Vitiate had termed the Hall of Eternity, the other to the Veil of Convergence. For that, however, I feared what lay beyond might be lost as that path led to the destroyed wing of the Palace complex.
"Take what was once mine, and use my knowledge to increase your power. Then, as I did, shape the galaxy in the image you wish it to be." With that, the holocron blinked out, though I could feel that if I summoned it, the Gatekeeper would return.
Part of me wished to destroy the holocron, to sever the connection I possessed to Vitiate, yet I hesitated. The knowledge that it might contain, or could explain that I would discover elsewhere, was potentially too great to lash out and obliterate the device simply because of what it had stated. Whatever I was, whether part of Vitiate remained in this boy or not, my strength, my power, was mine, as was the path I would choose as the future unfolded.
Slowly, uncertain of what the future now held, or who I was, I reached out and closed my fingers around the holocron. The moment I did so, the power holding it in place disengaged, forcing me to grasp the relic fully. I brought it closer, my eyes examining it carefully for any hint of deception or misdirection.
"Is it true?" I was snapped from my thoughts on the holocron and any developing ones about who I was by Anakin's voice. "Are you his child?"
"I…" My mouth opened and closed after a single word. "I don't know," I replied honestly, my shoulders slumping slightly as I spoke. "I mean, I don't want to believe it, but I know from my mother's holocron that my father was a Dark Sider. He certainly wasn't a Sith, as in one of the species, as my mother would've mentioned that. However, it's possible that the man who seduced my mother was, in some unknown way, connected to Vitiate."
"Perhaps one of these Voices the holocron spoke of," Dooku suggested, his hand resting on his chin as he seemed to ponder what had just been revealed. "I recall discovering that supposedly Vitiate and other extremely powerful Sith Lords were able to… dominate the minds of others, even Force users, and replace the minds of those sentients with a portion of themselves."
"Such things are possible?"
"Anything is achievable once one masters the Dark Side," Maul responded to Simvyl's question, his tone certain. "My former Master spoke of the power it was said the ancient Sith had once wielded. How they created servants that knew nothing of their roles, only activating at their Lord's command when the Lord deemed it pragmatic." He paused, his eyes searching mine almost challengingly for something before he continued. "While I have only just begun to study all that was located in the Sphere of Sith Doctrine, there are mentions of these Voices. It is said they served as the Emperor's Will inside the Empire and his instruments of control across the galaxy."
"So, Cam's really the son of that monster?" I grimaced at Anakin's question, though he didn't see, as his gaze was on Maul. The others, however, did as I tried to formulate a response.
"It matters not if Cameron is of Emperor Vitiate's lineage or not. Just as it has never mattered to myself or others that you are descended from Revan," Dooku began, answering Anakin before I could think of a reply that would ease his concerns. "I have known since the moment I met you that you were destined for greatness. The Force guided me and Master Fay to train you as it, too, was aware of the spark of potential that lay dormant within you." He turned to Anakin. "Just as it guided Cameron to find you when no other was even aware of what you might be capable of achieving." Anakin smiled a little at Dooku's praise, though his eyes danced between me and the floor as if he was uncertain how to react to everything that had just been revealed.
Dooku turned fully to face me, taking a step towards the Throne to ensure my focus was on him. "Whether you are truly Vitiate's progeny is irrelevant, my former Padawan. What matters is that you do not allow this new source of power to corrupt you or pull you from the destiny that lies before you. Take the power that is offered, learn from it as you have from me, Master Fay, King Adas, Darth Malgus, and others, and use it. The past does not dictate the future, my former Padawan. It merely acts as a guide for how not to move forward from the present."
I nodded slowly as I took in Dooku's words, a small sliver of happiness rising within me at his continued support and trust. As always, it was hard to get a read on him within the Force. Even with the bond we shared, he managed his presence with an ironclad will. Yet, from the small glimmers that I had learnt to detect and read, I sensed his usual cold, pragmatic approach there, confirming the words he had spoken were truthful. I was glad of that, and hearing him trust me to have the discipline to not allow this newfound power to corrupt or change me into something neither of us would recognise.
My gaze turned back to my son. "I'm still me, Anakin," I said slowly, my mind drawing strength from Dooku's words. "Who my ancestors are or aren't has never mattered." A slight lie, as I'd intentionally chosen Revan and Bastila as my ancestors for my rebirth, but that was something none could ever learn. "As Master Dooku says, all this means, regardless of the truth of the matter, is that there is the potential for me to gain new power. Power we can use to prepare for what is coming, and gain vengeance on those who have wronged us."
It was manipulative to play on Anakin's desire to see Decca the Hutt suffer for the death of his mother, but it was a logical button to press. Anakin was driven to protect those he cared for and seek retribution for those who were hurt. That was part of his nature that could never be overcome, nor did I wish for it to be. No, what I wanted and what I had been working on in gentle ways for the last few years had been training him not to allow his feelings and desires to completely override his intentions.
That was a lesson I struggled with myself. Always had and always would. Which made my taking Anakin as my Apprentice and then son – the latter not something I had ever intended until the moment it happened – the most logical path. His power would one day surpass mine, and I was comfortable with that. However, I wouldn't allow others, be they Jedi or Banite Sith, to corrupt or alter who he was to suit their goals. No, I would train him to accept himself, flaws and virtues, so that he would rise to be a great warrior. One whose ideals mirrored mine because that was what he wanted, not what I desired.
Anakin offered a weak smile, and I felt him draw a small amount of comfort from my words. I could tell he needed time to process what had been revealed, but that was understandable. He was still young and forming opinions on many people and concepts, so to see someone he considered family – more akin to a brother than a father, even if that was what I was by Mando'ade tradition – revealed to not be what he expected would be a shock to his system. In time, I had faith he'd come to accept this, as I hoped I would, and it seemed Dooku already had.
HK wouldn't care and had remained silent throughout the holocron's reveal. As my eyes shifted to Simvyl, he offered me a quick nod. It was easy to sense his trepidation over the reveal, but overriding that was his sense of duty and honour. It was as if that even though I might be in some way Vitiate's descendant, he knew who I was and what I had done. So long as I didn't force him to do something that ran counter to his ideals and sense of honour, I knew he would remain loyal. I just had to remind myself not to take his presence and loyalty for granted.
My gaze shifted to the newest member of our strange group, Maul. While I knew he considered me a useful acquaintance, our alliance was tenuous at best. The Interface had made clear that bringing him on this mission would, provided we both survived this world, see his trust and loyalty towards me rise, and I wondered if this reveal was one TPTB knew was going to happen, and part of why they wanted Maul here with me.
"I can admit that I am… unsettled by what we have learnt," the Zabrak said cautiously, as if aware that things turned for the worse, he would find himself standing against Dooku and myself. A battle I knew he couldn't win, at least not currently. Particularly as I sat on the Imperial Throne and the Dark Side around us was mine to wield, not anyone else's. "The idea that I might have traded one false Master for another lingers in my thoughts."
"Cam's not a Sith Lord!"
Maul chuckled at Anakin's declaration. "Are you certain of that child? He wields the Force as a Sith would, uses it to achieve his goals, and sits on that throne, declared by the former Emperor of the Empire that once ruled half the known galaxy from this world as his heir. That has all the markings of a Dark Lord of the Sith, if not the next Emperor."
I snarled under my helmet at the suggestion I would be anything like Vitiate had been or as Sidious in the other timeline. Part of me wanted to shoot down Maul's accusation, another part – far smaller but much more insistent – wanted me to punish him for insolence. However, I listened to neither suggestion, instead choosing to remain quiet so he could continue.
"I respect you as a warrior," Maul remarked as he returned his full focus to me, "however, this revelation… It has me questioning our agreement. The idea that you might become a puppet for whatever remains of this ancient Emperor, or try and force us all to submit to your rule, grows in my thoughts. However," he continued before I found time to worry about the chance I might be forced to fight him soon, "I am willing to allow you time to process what you have learnt. It will grant me time to consider my options if you are unable to separate who you are from the new lineage you bear."
I stood from the Throne, an action that caused Maul to tense, though as I moved forward, heading towards the steep steps leading down from the Throne, he relaxed. As I moved down cautiously, aware of the drop between steps, he and the others stepped back to give me room. Once down, I moved towards him, placing Vitiate's holocron in a pouch on my belt and lifting my hands to the clasps for my helmet.
"I'm not Vitiate, nor am I Sidious," I began slowly once the helmet was removed, and I could look him eye to eye. "But it seems that I have a connection to Vitiate. I do need time to handle this. Perhaps a lot of time, if I'm being honest. However, I promise you that my words before will remain true. I would never force you to serve me as Sidious once did. We will be allies or nothing. If I cannot reconcile what I've learnt here, and you cannot accept the changes it might bring on, or the choices I will make in the future, you are free to depart whenever you choose. However, I hope you never feel that desire. If we are to stop Sidious and Plagueis, then we must work together."
As I finished, I extended my arm to him. He stared at my hand for a few moments before looking at my face again. "Acceptable," He said before we clasped arms. "Though I will seek a rematch. Your victory on Mandalore was luck and nothing more."
I chuckled at his words. "Keep telling yourself that," I countered, drawing a smirk that revealed some of his teeth. "Now," I continued as we broke the clasp, "it seems that the holocron has revealed to me how to search beyond this room. Let's see what treasures remain hidden for us to take and use against our enemies."
… …
Less than an hour later, I found myself standing inside the Emperor's Sanctum within the Imperial Palace. More accurately, I stood outside what had once been Vitiate's personal meditation chamber. The others were outside, as only the Emperor, or the one who claimed his Throne, could enter the Sanctum. So that Dooku and Maul would have something to do while I was in here, I had opened the Hall of Eternity.
According to what I understood, the knowledge seemingly implanted in my mind by the Throne, that room was something akin to a repository of knowledge that only Vitiate had control over. For any to learn of what lay within, they required his permission to enter. I didn't know how often he had given that during his centuries as Emperor, but I felt that while I was within the Sanctum, it would give Dooku and Maul something to help distract their thoughts from my parentage and keep them out of the way while I entered the Sanctum.
The passage to the Sanctum was far simpler than I had expected. The walls were devoid of any marking, bar the dull, sinister crimson light that pulsed along as illumination. Each pulse travelled from the Chamber of Acknowledgement inward, beckoning me deeper into what had once been Vitiate's sanctuary. Yet while the corridor was devoid of anything indicating the glory of the Empire that I'd seen everywhere else, the Dark Side was strong there. I had felt screams of torment from thousands as I moved down the corridor, their whispers begging for mercy, for me to release them, or to destroy them.
Memories not originally mine knew that those voices were the souls of those who had crafted this Palace; each put to death to hide the secrets of its construction from others before Vitiate had reshaped the building using Sith rituals. I knew nothing of such rituals, nor did I wish to learn them; however, I understood instinctively that they had been used to bind the Dark Side into every pore and stone within the Palace, into the very air that swirled around me. That understanding came, I felt, from my claiming of Vitiate's true Throne – the one in the Dark Council Chambers was a mere shadow of the one I had conquered earlier. As if rudimentary knowledge about the Palace had been implanted into my mind. A thought that only added to the nagging doubt that swirled within me currently.
The doors to the Sanctum were like many of the other important doors I'd encountered on this planet. Carved from obsidian and blackened durasteel with Sith runes alight with malignant energy that threatened any who approached, it had signalled the end of the corridor. The sigil of this Sith Empire, one that carried weight for Vitiate, was engraved into the door, marking the boundary of the Emperor's innermost domain.
For a few moments, the Force embedded within the doors had challenged my presence, questioning how dare I stand at this entrance. The doors had relented when I'd channelled my control of the Force into them and swung open with little complaint, granting me access to the Sanctum.
Beyond the personal resting chamber that Vitiate had used, a room which I had no interest in investigating, and the decorations that covered the walls, marking the glory of Vitiate, three items had stood out with the Sanctum itself. Three items radiated power and called to me to claim them and take my birthright.
The first was a large chair, one that, while designed for an Emperor, was not as imposing as the Throne I had claimed in the Chamber of Acknowledgement nor that in the Dark Council Chambers. However, based on the various controls linked to it, and the large display – now long-dead – that existed nearby suggested it had once allowed Vitiate to oversee everything within his Empire. Later, I intended to gather R2 and, between us, see if we could restore the chair so that I might learn secrets that remained hidden from me. Not just on Dromund Kaas, but throughout Sith Space.
The second was a large tome, one that was as wide as R2, that rested on a pedestal in one corner, commanding my attention. The book was bound in leather from some unknown creature, though when my fingers had hovered over the surface, I had felt the Dark Side of the tome. Not just what was contained within, but from the bindings themselves. There was no text upon the tome's cover, nor Sith glyphs, which made sense as what use would Vitiate need for a tome he had created himself?
The third and final item was the most curious, and from how it seemed to vibrate within the Force, the most dangerous. It appeared at first to be a giant globe, one that reminded me of a Van Der Graaf generator. Yet the energy that swirled and shifted within the globe wasn't electric, but what appeared to be a miniature Force storm. One that reminded me of the storm that still raged above the Palace.
Like with the tome, I had no idea what the globe was, or what powers and mysteries it might contain, and felt myself being called to it. As if the part of me that connected me to the long-dead Emperor needed to interact with it. However, I wasn't doing that, nor opening the tome. While I had claimed the Throne and managed to appear centred in front of the others, my innermost thoughts were a swirling symphony of chaos centred around the revelations I'd learned from Vitiate's holocron. The same holocron that remained in a pouch on my belt.
Even with my thoughts in disarray by the revelation that I was a Child of Vitiate, I'd still entered the Emperor's Sanctum, the room drawing me inward while my mind raged with itself over the revelation of what I had just learned, and how the others might be reacting. All of them had seemed accepting of the revelation currently, but I knew that just like me, they needed time to come to terms with the disclosure of who my father seemingly was.
Of course, I needed time to come to terms with it as well. My head was ablaze with chaotic thoughts, my mind torn in a dozen directions as I tried to comprehend what this meant. I had chosen Revan and Bastila as my ancestors before my rebirth, but somehow I'd also gained the bloodline of an ancient Sith Emperor. Had TPTB been responsible for that, or perhaps the Force had arranged it as a way to counter TPTB inserting me into its domain?
There was much I didn't know, and even as I looked over the Sanctum, my thoughts waged war with each other, trying to make sense of everything I'd just discovered. I had hoped the reveal of new knowledge, or items of power that I could harness, might settle my mind, but each new item I located in the Sanctum did the opposite. That was why I found myself standing before a door leading from the Sanctum. A door that I knew led to Vitiate's private meditation chamber.
The door was simpler than most of the palace; something that was semi-common with the Sanctum. The relative simplicity suggested that Vitiate had been uninterested in vast displays of murals and power in private. Perhaps, he simply saw no need for such displays, as none bar he would step foot here, and thus there was no requirement for the constant reminders for his people to worship his glory.
Once the door slid open, I stepped into the threshold, taking in the room. Triangular in shape, reminiscent of a Sith holocron, the walls appeared blank to the light and scanners of my armour, yet I could sense they weren't. The power of the Dark Side flowed through the small chamber, focusing the might of the Force at the centre, right where a simple raised stone triangle rested.
I understood I needed to meditate on what I'd learnt and work to regain control of the chaos gripping my mind, yet I knew doing so here was dangerous. I was within the innermost domain of what had once belonged to Vitiate. The echo might be silent, but I was certain it wasn't gone, and the moment I attempted to meditate on this issue, it would return.
I had considered waiting until after we left Dromund Kaas, but I had no idea when that would be. I'd also thought about returning to the Vhett and meditating there, close but not within the Palace. Both ideas had been dismissed, however. The former, because I feared that, if I remained unsettled, I might miss something that could be useful in helping me achieve my goals. As for the latter, returning to the ship after the revelation of my parentage risked Dooku and Maul thinking I was weak: Unworthy to be their potential successor or ally, respectively. Thus, I was left with either staying on the Throne or heading into the Sanctum and had chosen the latter. Yet as I stood on the threshold of Vitiate's private meditation chamber, I hesitated.
I shivered, the voice of Bo coming from deep within myself, challenging me.
This time, it was the voice of Serra that taunted me.
The voices came thick and fast, each taking on another persona of someone who mattered to me. Each taunting my weakness, that I was undeserving of the power that lay at my fingertips. That everything I'd ever done had been a lie. A trick pulled over my eyes by someone or something else to make me do as they wished. To make me a toy for their amusement, jumping through hoops like a broken little kath hound.
"Enough!" I snapped, letting my anger flare outwards, driving back the challenges. I was questioning myself, which I didn't deny. However, the voices I heard weren't from friends, family, or lovers. No, they were the Dark Side. It wanted me to step into the room now, before I was ready. It knew that I would fail if I did so and that either I would fall into the insanity that lay at the very bottom of the Dark Side, or that the last lingering echo of Vitiate might somehow consume me and use me to rise again.
Neither of those was going to happen, I promised myself even as I stepped back from the meditation chamber. However, I wasn't going to simply step into it unprepared or improperly attired.
I moved to the centre of the Sanctum, close to the command chair and the station there, and began to slowly remove my armour. Doing so was a slow process, though it was all designed to be easily removed by the wearer. For the few latches that might require an uncomfortable twist, I endured. The pain served to prepare me for the challenge I was about to face.
Each section was placed carefully on the command chair and a small table beside it. Just because I stood in the chambers of a dead Sith Emperor didn't mean I was going to forgo the respect my armour deserved. Particularly not when it had been the words of my people, the resol'nare that had helped guide me back from the edge when I'd claimed the Imperial Throne. I was not a Sith, nor was I a Jedi. I was Mando'ade. I would face this challenge, this test of who I was and what I stood for, head-on as a warrior should.
Once the armour was removed, along with my replacement limb, I stepped towards the mediation chamber again. The only item I held was my lightsaber. The crystals inside it were bound to me, and if I needed them, would offer a focus for me to centre on as I confronted the challenges I had to overcome.
The Dark Side whispered to me again as I stood on the threshold of the small chamber, but I ignored it and marched forward, appearing confident. As I sat on the stone, I placed my hilt in my lap, my hand grasping it as I closed my eyes.
I reached inward, seeking the spark that I had used to recover against the threat I'd faced in claiming the Throne and making it mine. It responded instantly, the power it offered mine alone. It was the very essence of who I was, and I knew I'd need that grounding point against what I had to face.
Opening my mind, I let the Force in. Instantly, the voices that dismissed me, that considered me unworthy of who I was and what I'd done, assaulted my senses. Around me, I could feel the chamber responding, the power of the Dark Side mingling with the final, lingering remnant of Vitiate that permeated his Sanctum, rising to assault me. It sought to break me, to throw my mind into the abyss of its depths and destroy me.
I inhaled deeply, holding on tightly to the spark within. The voices, no matter how truthful or not, were unimportant. I knew what they, what the Dark Side wanted. However, the challenge I faced wasn't from it but from myself. As I pushed the whispers back, I turned my thoughts inward and considered who I was, what I had done, and where I wanted to go.
Every step I'd taken since my rebirth was replayed before me. Each action, no matter how small or insignificant, reviewed with deep focus. For a long time, I had wondered if TPTB had guided my actions. If they had decided for me where I would go and what I would do, using me as a puppet on their strings to toy with an entire galaxy. That sensation had fallen away once I'd removed the Interface as a filter for the Force. Once I'd taken Natural Selection. Yet as I reviewed my past, that fear returned in abundance.
I had chosen to be the descendant of Revan. I had understood the legacy that I was taking up by doing so, and how it would force me to challenge myself. At first, I had foolishly thought I could seek a path of balance. Of a road where I could draw on the Light and Dark Sides of the Force equally and without danger. I had even taught the beginnings of that flawed idea to Serra, a choice that had helped lead to the death of Master Drallig.
Oddly, I felt little remorse about that choice. I understood that the majority of the blame lay with the Force. It had limited what I could do. It had chosen to give Serra and me alternate visions, and as selfish as it was, I was glad Drallig was dead. Not just because it meant I lived, but because I now had Maul as an ally.
I grimaced at hearing those words from Serra. The fear that I'd lost her because of Drallig continually gnawed at me. Something that had only grown stronger since I'd allied with Maul.
As much as it hurt to do so, I pushed Serra's voice aside and ignored her. That wasn't her talking, but my fears as they were magnified by the Dark Side. I'd heard them each night since the duel with Maul on Mandalore. Only now they were so much louder, so much stronger and painful.
'Everything you have done is because it was what I wished. You are mine.'
The new voice, that of Vitiate, had me metaphorically snarling. An action that made the Sith laugh.
'There is the rage of a Sith. The power you control that I shall consume and use.'
"I am not yours to control!" I snapped back within my mind, Vitiate's presence growing stronger and more prevalent. "I was never yours!"
'You are and always have been,' the voice responded with a chuckle. 'The very means that brought you to this galaxy, that saw you merge with my failure and make it useful, is why you are mine.'
"That wasn't anything to do with you." My voice was vicious; almost primal in the snarl each word carried. "The Powers That Be placed me here because I chose it."
Vitiate laughed.
'Did you? Is this where you hoped to be when you chose to be born with the Force? When you decided to be a child of Revan, was it what you truly wanted, or was it perhaps what those above you wished for?'
I growled at the insinuation, yet I didn't have any retort. Vitiate's words were mine. They were the thoughts that had lingered at the very base of my soul ever since I'd been reborn in this galaxy. Each time I was placed in danger, each time I was thrown into a situation over my head, the thought that I was only where I was because of TPTB had risen from the innermost corners of my thoughts.
Each time I had swatted it back down, not willing to dwell on it. When I'd been faced by the greater krayt dragon, in that moment of fear as it roared at me, I cursed TPTB for making that happen. When I'd discovered that I'd inadvertently saved Darth Plagueis – or at least saved him from revealing Hego Damask was but a mask – I turned the mental air blue with curses aimed at TPTB for making me save the monster that trained Sidious.
When I'd endured months under Vosa's care, when she'd had strips of skin peeled from my body, as I screamed at her in pain as the flesh was removed from my most sensitive areas, a part of me found solace in blaming others. TPTB and the Force were where I was at that time. They were as equally to blame as that deranged bitch was.
On Zonama Sekot, when Fay had been struck down and I'd not know if she would live, I'd sworn at the Force and TPTB, blaming them for that being her fate. That they might be why and how she died, even as I raged at myself for how easily I'd lost control. How willingly I'd drawn on the Dark Side to crush the Vong for hurting someone I cared for.
'Yes, you see it. The truth of the matter. You are not free, nor have you ever been so.'
Vitiate's voice, more infuriating now than it had ever been, returned, revelling in my torment.
'Those who placed you here have used you. They gave you to me, they placed you within a body born of my power.'
I flinched, pulling back in my head as I felt something brush against my metaphorical skin. A touch that was foreign and familiar. A long-lost truth that was being revealed.
'Do not fight it, my Child. You are what I made you. Embrace your destiny and become the instrument of my rebirth.'
Images of what I could be if I let Vitiate in, if I accepted what I was and embraced the supremacy at my fingertips, flashed through my mind. Worlds burning as I devoured the power of my fallen enemies. Legions of warriors kneeling before me, as behind them the Senate and Jedi Temple burnt. My warriors, my armadas sweeping across the galaxy, bringing all under a banner of power and terror from which none would ever rise to challenge me.
The faces of those I cared for appeared, each either bending the knee at my greatness, kissing the very ground I walked on, or offering themselves to my darkest desires, swarmed my thoughts.
'Everything you want, everyone you desire, the power to bend all of the Force to your unconquerable will. It can all be yours. If you just give in. If you accept me and let me guide you.'
Around me, the Dark Side pushed in, pressing down on me, trapping me in the moment. It wasn't challenging me; it wasn't seeking to destroy me or drag me into the abyss. It slid through every pore in my body, granting me a taste of the power it offered, of the control and mastery I could have if I just let it in. If I just surrendered to who it wanted me to be.
"No."
The single word that slipped from me had the Dark Side still. The tendrils of nothingness that flowed through every vein, muscle, sinew, and ligament within me froze.
"I am not you. I am not some puppet for you or anyone to control and use."
The Dark Side pulled back, the smoky vines that had slipped into me as Vitiate spoke to me, as he targeted my fears, recoiling as if stung. Suddenly, it feared me. I, however, wasn't going to just let them go.
My eyes snapped open, and I found myself surrounded by a storm. One identical to what raged outside the Palace. Unlike with the Throne, I wasn't standing in the eye of that storm. No, I was part of it. Veins of energy threaded from the storm into me; the very essence of the Dark Side seeping into me while I questioned my existence.
Before me, the storm shifted, becoming the face of one I had already learnt to despise. "You cannot escape your destiny, my Child," the storm-forged Vitiate roared, lightning dancing in its maw. "You have followed, just as I wished, the same path to power as I did. You hunger for more as I did. You want control over the galaxy as I once had." The face moved closer, smiling with malignant intent. "To get all you desire and more, give in, Cameron. Accept that you were never anything more than a slave to others. To me. That this was and is your purpose."
The storm shifted. The tendrils that had surged into me now hardened, trapping me in place as Vitiate moved closer. The storm that was his face swirled around, reforming until he stood before me. The Sith Emperor towered over me as I was dragged to my knees by the tendrils, and he reached out a hand, moving it towards my head.
"Embrace your destiny, my Child, and let me guide you forward as I have done before," Vitiate continued as his long, bony fingers reached for my skull. "Surrender to the truth."
I closed my eyes, finding myself unable, or perhaps unwilling, to struggle against the chains of the storm that held me still. I had been used. I couldn't deny it. TPTB, the Jedi, Vitiate. Everything I had done was never my choice. I was just the tool of others to serve their purpose. This is all I had been and all I'd ever be, I realised as I lowered my head. I had never been the next coming of Revan or the saviour of the galaxy. I had only ever been a pawn in a game played by those far more powerful than I could ever be.
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"No."
While my head had been bowed for a few moments, my mind had retreated inward. The spark within me had flared, filling my thoughts with memories. Of those I'd met in this life, of those whose fates I knew I'd changed, of those I'd saved, of those I'd killed, and of others I still had to encounter.
I had saved Dooku from becoming a pawn of Sidious, and I had freed Maul from the constraints placed upon him by the same monster. While Shmi had still died, she had done so free from the terrors of Tatooine, finding love and having another child in her freedom. Anakin had been spared more of the horrors of being a slave, instead allowed to enjoy for a few years at least, some time as nothing more than a child. Padmé and her people had been freed by more than luck or the Will of the Force and were working to ensure what happened to them never occurred again.
The Bando Gora were gone, their organisation shattered in the process of my liberation from them. The Sekotans were somewhere far from the Republic, Zonama keeping them safe from the threat of the Vong. The Shadda-Bi-Borans had survived the death of their world, enduring on a half-dozen other worlds across the galaxy. Thanks to my presence, Fay was working to rediscover Typhon. The insanity of the New Mandalorians had been squashed, while Death Watch was an organisation with only years left to exist. The Mando'ade, while not united, were on the cusp of gathering behind a common cause; one I would bring forth.
"I am not a tool," I growled as I lifted my head, locking eyes with the storm-forged Vitiate. "For you or anyone else. I might share a connection to you, as I do to Revan, but I am not either of you. I am me! My choices are mine, and mine alone." Vitiate's smile, one filled with the expectation of destroying my mind and claiming my body, faltered as I slowly stood; the tendrils of the Force that held me down, straining as I did so. "My path is one of battle, of conquest and domination. However, unlike you, I don't do so for personal glory or a need to rule over others. I do it for a greater good."
As I snarled at this representation of one half of my lineage, I returned to my feet and the tendrils that had held me down, that had chained me in submission to Vitiate's legacy, or that of Revan or anyone or anything else, shattered. I stepped towards Vitiate, the storm that formed him and swirled around us, parting as I stalked forward. "I acknowledge that I have a link to you, but that has no bearing on my actions, nor will it influence my thoughts going forward," I snarled as he backpedalled, trying to seek refuge in the storm that engulfed us. "My path is mine and mine alone to walk. Not yours, not Revan's, not anyone else's. I am not the Chosen One, nor a reborn Sith'ari. I am Cameron Shan!" I snapped my hand, lifting, reaching for his face. "And you," I continued as my hand closed over his skull, crushing the energy that formed his face, absorbing that power into me, "are nothing!"
My eyes snapped open, and I looked around, trying to work out where I was. The Dark Side flowed around me; the air heavy with its presence. However, I didn't fear it, nor did I fear what my connection to Vitiate meant as I realised I was back in the meditation chamber. I was not his puppet. I was not anyone's toy, tool, or plaything. I, and I alone, chose my actions.
I slumped as that understanding flowed through me, shifting outwards to take control of the Force that waited for my command. It was ready to bend to my will and desires and no one else's.
My body was tired, my hair stuck to my head, and my body was slick with sweat. Every muscle within me screamed from exhaustion, every fibre of me demanding I rest. My body screamed that I seek a moment's peace to recover from what I'd endured. Yet, for all the physical fatigue I was enduring, my mind was alive and vibrant.
A drained but amused chuckle slipped from my lips as I looked around the chamber, feeling the Dark Side awaiting my command. It was mine now. The final last vestige of Vitiate was gone; devoured and repurposed by my might. All that remained here was me, the power of this Palace, of this world, mine to claim if I so wanted.
I could feel the offer resting there in the Force. The willing submission of the Dark Side to my every whim. It stood ready to help me reshape not just Dromund Kaas, but the galaxy if I commanded it. I leaned back, a wide, content smile spreading over my face as I basked in my glory and savoured the moment.
I was free: Finally, and truly free of any commitment I had to anyone or any higher power. My choices were mine and mine alone, and through them and those who flocked to my banner, I would reshape the galaxy. Not to reforge failed Sith Empires, or engulf the ruins of the failed Republic in eternal darkness. No, I would shatter everything so that the weight of the past, of the failings of that which had been, could be washed away and consigned to the garbage piles of history.
Many would resist through words and actions. They would fear the loss of the only system they had ever known, the removal of the rules that had kept them in power and influence when they had no right to it. Others would stand against me because they didn't know any better; tricked by masters whose chains they didn't understand, they wore. I would free them from that delusion and bring them into the light of the truth.
The Jedi would fight me. Every one of them potentially. I would be altering what they considered the natural order. They would claim I was disrupting the Will of the Force. Fools and charlatans, the lot of them. No higher power, no energy field that any of them prescribed intelligence to, pulled our strings or guided our actions. There was no grand design that would bring balance and unity to the galaxy. No, if one wanted structure and stability, they had to not just show others that it was there to take, but destroy anything or anyone that stood in their way.
I shifted my body, intending to stand. It protested, weary from the ordeal I'd just endured, yet it obeyed, and I rose slowly to my feet. As I walked from the chamber, I could feel Dooku, Anakin, and to a lesser extent, Maul probing my mind through our bonds, seeking answers for what had happened. I sent a wave of assurance to them, the Force carrying it without challenge.
Outside, I knew the storm had finally passed. The rampant energy had found its leash, passed to me from Vitiate. That failed Sith, who'd watched his Empire fall as he played whatever games he thought would serve him, no longer mattered. He was nothing more than a footnote in history from which I could learn to avoid his mistakes.
Every ounce of knowledge he had stored away in this Palace and the Imperial Citadel would be mine. Every archaic ritual, manuscript, holocron, and recording would be used to ensure that as I rose to bring sanity to the galaxy, I didn't repeat his failures.
The galaxy was my oyster, and I intended to crack it open and claim the pearl inside.
… …
The evening of the day after my ordeal in the Imperial Palace, and after coming to terms with what I'd learnt, I found myself back in the Dark Council Chambers inside the Imperial Citadel. It turned out that the meditation I'd endured to find my centre and determine my path forward hadn't just been taxing, it had also taken a lot longer than I'd realised.
When I'd come out of my trance, the day was almost over, and when I reconnected to my armour, Dooku had asked politely if I was well; no direct mention of what I was sure he'd sensed me enduring ever arose from my former Master. Obviously, I'd still feel the fallout for a time, but I assured him that I was on the path to accepting what and who I was. He had thankfully dropped the matter there, allowing me time to explore the Inner Sanctum further.
While I had come to terms with who I was, I knew that I still needed time to fully recover from the ordeal of facing my demons and overcoming them in a deep Force meditation. I also understood that having done so in a place so thoroughly seeped in the Dark Side might've been a mistake. However, I had done so and would have to live with it going forward, just as I now accepted who I was, who my ancestors were, and that I had no one and nothing to blame for my failures, or suspect was behind choices that I'd made that, with hindsight, had been silly at best, and downright stupid at worst. I was free of those terrors and excuses and had become a changed man. Now, I was using the time in the Sanctum to slowly recover from what I'd put myself through.
The tome remained a mystery, though, thanks to the basic translation software Maul and R2 had created, I could get enough details from the first few pages of it to determine it was some sort of diary. Calling it a diary was intentionally insulting, as I knew it was far more than that. However, referring to it as such had been a test; one designed to lure out anything of Vitiate.
Even after I'd claimed the Throne and then burnt the doubts of who I was and what influence the Force, TPTB, and my ancestors had over my actions from my thoughts, there remained a small chance that something of Vitiate remained. He'd not responded to my open taunting of his tome, not even with the barest of shifts in the Force that I'd been waiting to feel. That meant that he was gone for good, though I'd remain wary until we left the planet.
The first few pages I'd examined from the tome and the small amount that had been deciphered by the translation software – something that had triggered the creation of a Language Skill for the Sith tongue – was a journal Vitiate had kept. The initial pages seemingly spoke of events when he became ruler of a world within a previous Sith Empire. That had to be the empire of Naga Sadow, but the name of the world wasn't one the software could translate, nor on any galactic record we had access to.
I'd reached out to R2 on the Vhett – the storm over the palace having dissipated once I emerged from my meditation – to search the ship's databanks for a reference to the world, but he'd come up short. It was probable that there would be other mentions of it in the files we'd gathered so far, or might find later, that would confirm where Vitiate had been born and ruled, but it felt like an unimportant detail. That said, the tome was now inside my Inventory as it was not a book I would allow anyone else to access. The same was true of Vitiate's holocron, though it was harder to make that disappear, as the others had seen it when it had activated.
A part of me chuckled with amusement at the idea of activating Vitiate and Malgus' holocrons at the same time. However, I was uncertain if I would do such a thing, nor if I would bother to speak with Malgus' Gatekeeper about what he knew of Vitiate's Voices. I accepted that Vitiate had some part in creating me, but he had no influence over the man I was. Nor would he or others ever do so again.
The glowing sphere remained a complete mystery. The storm inside it still raged, and I felt a pull towards it. Not one linked to Vitiate but centred around the Dark Side. However, I had yet to interact with it as I understood that I needed time to recover from recent revelations before I dove into the Dark Side again. The same wasn't true of the command chair, which was the third part of the main Sanctum that interested me.
I'd had to summon R2 to help me with accessing and then downloading the files in the command chair. While I could control the interface, the sheer volume of text, tomes, scrolls, events, people, and everything else Vitiate had been able to draw upon was scary. I suspected much of the knowledge accessible through the chair was the same as what we'd already gained from the Citadel and the private chambers of the various Spheres of Influence, but much of it likely wasn't. There was also the fact that Vitiate's command chair allowed him to circumvent any security measures on any file. A fact I'd confirmed when I'd accessed the special projects titled Silencer, Ascendant Spear, and Sun Razer.
The former was for a superweapon designed for a modified Harrower-class dreadnought. Every report of its use showed it to be a fleet-killer weapon, given the speed of firing and power the cannon unleashed. That alone had the potential to be game-changing in theory. What I needed was someone far smarter than me – probably many people if I was being honest – and trustworthy enough to go over the project. I needed to learn if the Silencer would still be as effective against modern starships and, if not, how it could be improved to be something close to the original game-changer the various reports suggested it had been. Well, at least until the Eternal Fleet of the Eternal Empire had shattered the Sith and Republic fleets.
The Sith Empire had built more Silencer superweapons after the fall of the Eternal Empire and then the Eternal Alliance, but each time they were deployed, the Republic had sought them out and destroyed them at all costs. An understandable choice, and with the might of their shipyards, the Republic had slowly ground the Empire's fleets and superweapons into dust until nothing remained of the Silencer project and those like it but the records we'd discovered.
On the surface, the Ascendent Spear didn't appear to be anything worthy of being classed as a super weapon. It was a destroyer outfitted with more weaponry and a 0.5-rated hyperdrive. That simply made it incredibly fast – even by today's standards – while outgunning ships in its class. However, what made the project stand out was the fact that the ship could be commanded via a neural net by someone sufficiently strong in the Force with a disciplined mind. Implants were needed in the mind of the Force user, and there were dangers of those, but the idea of a warship with the response time of Raven was incredible. Sadly, much of the research on the project wasn't accessible even from Vitiate's command chair. The knowledge had been maintained on the single station, creating the Ascendent Spear and its sister vessels. That station, ironically, the Sun Razer, was destroyed by the Jedi, and the more critical elements regarding the neural link between the ship and the Force user were lost.
The Sun Razer project had been an attempt to mimic the power of the Star Forge. The station, a seemingly unwise creation, had been built around the star of the Vesla system. That star had the right characteristics, it seemed, but the station, while active, had been able to generate power seemingly equivalent to the Star Forge. An achievement worthy of remembrance, and the station had been the place where most of the Empire's secret projects and superweapons had been crafted. Not least, as it meant that instead of taking years or decades to build those ships and weapons, they could be crafted in weeks or months. Which might explain why the Republic had destroyed it. Rather ironically, by a team led by someone named Theron Shan.
It seemed Revan's line was intertwined heavily with Vitiate's Empire, which, in some odd way, made the fact that I shared a connection with both oddly poetic. That it would be someone of Revan's line, but with a touch of Vitiate within them, that became the first to claim the Throne in the Imperial Palace just felt right. Though perhaps that was just the sense of certainty I'd been experiencing since my meditation, influencing me to find amusement in the insanity that seemed to define how I'd come to be. It could also speak to why I now stood at the entrance to the Emperor's Chamber in the Imperial Citadel.
"Observation: You seem remarkably at ease for a meatbag after learning of your connection to Vitiate, Master. Aside: I am uncertain how The Builder would feel about this."
I turned and looked at HK, who stood a few steps behind me, keeping a close watch on me. Something he'd done ever since I'd emerged from the Inner Sanctum yesterday. Not, he claimed, because he feared I would become the monster that Vitiate had been – I suspected that he wouldn't mind if I became a true Sith and used him for his primary purpose – but because I was the last tie to his Builder, Revan, in this galaxy. If I didn't know better, I'd swear he had some sense of loyalty to me because of my bloodline, one that might have grown stronger since the truth of my lineage had been discovered.
"As I said yesterday, and then thrice today, I'm fine. As in, I'm at peace with the truth. There's nothing I can do to change the past, only prepare to alter the future." Anakin and Simvyl had all asked me repeatedly if I was doing well, while Dooku had inquired about my well-being without speaking. Each time they accepted my answer that I was well, but I had felt their gazes, and in Dooku's case, his force presence, lingering upon me regardless.
If I were the monster Vitiate claimed I was meant to be, the one he had wanted me to become, I'd have punished them for such distrust and disloyalty. I hadn't because I wasn't a fiend. I knew they were simply concerned about me as family, as that was what they were.
"Analysis: A remarkably efficient approach, Master. One that is uncommon in many meatbags. Addendum: Hardly a surprise given their inherent weakness."
I ignored HK's commentary for the moment, instead choosing to move closer to the entrance to the Emperor's Chamber. During my time going through the data available through the command chair, I had learnt that Vitiate had kept something in this chamber that I now wanted. Something linked to my ancestry that could help me reshape the galaxy in the way I wished, so long as it hadn't been removed by any later Emperor or Empress.
Most had ruled from Korriban, which had been the ceremonial capital of the Empire as soon as it was retaken. However, Vitiate had ensured that the device I was after was kept on Dromund Kaas, close at hand so that as he broke Revan – something he seemingly did and didn't do, as odd as that sounded – he could taunt the former Jedi and Sith over his failure.
Once I was at the massive doors, I paused. The statues that stood on either side of the doors remained unmoving, but I swore I could feel their gaze upon me. They questioned why I was standing here and what right I had to think I could pass beyond them. With a smirk, I reached out into the Force and extended my power outward.
The Emperor's chair behind me, dominating over the Dark Council Chamber as it did, had already been claimed. It had yielded to me far more easily than I had expected, suggesting the choice to leave it until after exploring the Imperial Palace had been the correct one. Taking the Throne there, and then coming to terms with my past and not allowing it to shape my future, had seen my control over the Dark Side swell. Something that, when I had approached the chair behind me, had made it easy to overcome the aura it generated. One that was designed to test any who dared sit upon it.
I did wonder if those who came after Vitiate, those later figures who tried to rule the Empire, had claimed the chair behind me, or if they had kept their seat on Korriban, fearful of being unworthy of having the power to overcome what lingered of Vitiate on Dromund Kaas. I had no such fear, not now that I had consumed the last echoes of him that had survived for millennia. His will was gone, and his power mine to use to reshape the galaxy.
Dooku and Maul were currently within the chamber of the Sphere of Civil Administration, Anakin accompanying them. I had unlocked the inner doors after claiming the Emperor's throne in the Dark Council Chamber and then asked them to investigate what lay deeper within that chamber. The chamber for the Sphere of Scientific Advancement was one we would explore together later as Dooku, Maul, and I agreed that there were likely things in there that would require a coordinated effort to handle. With the trio occupied there, and Simvyl remaining with R2 to oversee the Vhett and the other ships in the Citadel's hangar, we were using it as a base of operations, which left me free to enter the Emperor's Chambers.
My hand touched the door, and I felt the Force flow through it and me. There was a moment when the energy used in the construction of the door, one that was drenched in the power of the Dark Side, tried to fight back. However, it yielded quickly, accepting that I was its master.
I watched as from my hand, lines of energy, glowing an almost deranged violet, slid outwards, pushing into every rune and glyph the ancient Sith had carved into the blackened durasteel and obsidian used in its construction. A smile crept onto my face as I felt my control over the door grow with each tendril that surged through the doors, until eventually, the entire surface glowed with the power I commanded.
"Observation: I admit that I am curious as to how this door and others were crafted, Master. Theory: My sensors cannot fully understand what keeps happening, but I accept that the Sith somehow made these materials far stronger than they should be. Speculation: Perhaps there is something in the vast memory banks that we have copied that contains the information."
"Not happy with your phrik casing?" I asked even as I felt the power I'd pushed into the doors continue outwards, slipping into the mechanisms that controlled them.
"Qualification: I am most pleased with my new casing, Master. The metal used ensures I am far harder to damage and thus can serve you more effectively in whatever combat role you wish for me to perform. I am merely… curious if there is a way to further enhance my capacity for the extermination of unworthy meatbags."
I chuckled, amused as always at how everything for HK came down to a combination of serving me and finding more efficient ways to kill those I wanted gone. "Perhaps there will be," I replied as I felt and then heard the locks of the great doors grind and hiss; the servos activating for the first time in several thousand years. "However, the use of such crafting would leave you unable to approach any Force user. Even a new Padawan would be able to sense the malignant power of the Dark Side in these runes."
"Affirmative: Yes, that would lower my efficiency with covert operations near Jedi, Master. Amendment: It would, however, ensure that if I were forced to engage one at closer than optimal range without sufficient time to prepare the battlefield, the likelihood of my survival against the most dangerous Jedi would increase significantly. Musing: Perhaps in those same databanks, there are methods to hide such manipulations of the Force from the senses of all but those dedicated to locating them?"
"I'm sure there'll be something in all those files you can use to make yourself more dangerous," I commented as the doors slowly parted, the stale air beyond seeping into the Chamber. My nose wrinkled at the smell, and then at the dry, metallic taste of the air as it reached my tongue.
Before the doors swung open fully, I stepped forward, moving as if I owned the place. In a way, I did. HK's metallic steps followed behind, his optical sensors alert and his blaster ready to defend me if needed. However, I knew that if there was any challenge between here and the Emperor's chamber proper, it would be one only I could overcome. Not because I could wield the Force, but because, as far as this world and the Dark Side that propagated every particle of the planet was concerned, I was the new Emperor.
The light from my helmet and HK's head provided brighter illumination than the corridor would normally have. The purple light that had spread from when I'd first touched the doors slithered down the walls, moving like water cascading cliffs or rivers flowing to a deep and massive ocean. A metaphor, perhaps, for what the Force was.
The natural light of the corridor would, no doubt, add a foreboding sense of entrapment to any who entered here. Those summoned to a private audience with the Emperor, or perhaps one of these Voices, he used to control his domain. Yet I felt no such sense of a growing menace. Instead, I felt as if the light was guiding me onward, offering itself to my command as I claimed what was mine by the right of conquest as well as birth. Vitiate was, within how the Force sensed such things, my father and I accepted that now. However, he was not me, and I was not him. My path would not be one of domination and control from the shadows. Nor manipulation on a grand scale that had much of the galaxy dancing to my tune without them knowing.
Now, if I could one day influence events that affected the denizens of the galaxy, from the most despicable Weequay or unworthy Trandoshan up to those trained to use the Force for power, then I wouldn't complain. So long as I didn't grow bored of such authority and still had something worthy of being a challenge, then I would be happy. I was a warrior, and I had accepted over the last two years that I was meant to lead from the front and battle against worthwhile opponents, not cower in secret to either manipulate others into doing my bidding or carry out experiments on the deeper mysteries of the Force.
Amusingly, the walls of the corridor displayed scenes of battles. Events where Vitiate seemed to be claiming that he had fought decisively in places, given the recurring appearance of his image in each mural we passed. Another attempt to manipulate and influence those called before him of his power and majesty; another example of him lifting himself above everyone else to stand alone as the greatest and most powerful Sith to ever live. A lie, but one that had served him well during his centuries-long reign.
Whispers within the Force offered to help me. They gifted me sweet nothings that led not to promised power, but to despair and insanity. I drove them back with my will, shattering their pathetic attempts at manipulation of my mind. I was not some fool summoned before the Emperor or his Voices. I was the Master of the Force within these walls.
At a few points as we moved, I glanced at the walls, the Force revealing the hidden defence mechanisms that were designed to unleash hell on any invader of this domain. None activated, if they even could after so many years of silence. That was, honestly, a disappointment. I would have enjoyed the momentary challenge of whatever defences Vitiate had crafted into this corridor; whatever machinations of the Force had gone into the machines to make them more dangerous to one able to command the Force like I could.
Perhaps if I had entered here before claiming the Throne at the Imperial Palace, I would've been challenged properly. I might even have fallen to the derangements the murmurs hid behind their sweet words. However, I hadn't. I had understood that I wasn't ready to enter here before, even if at the time I hadn't realised why that was. As such, we arrived at the true entrance to the Emperor's Chamber unchallenged.
There were no doors this time, only an archway onto which Sith runes were etched. I still didn't truly understand what they meant, though I could sense their intent. A warning that I was stepping into the presence of Vitiate and that I was nothing compared to him. I scoffed openly at the vile aura of the archway, not cowed or concerned by it. Vitiate was gone, the last lingering remnant crushed beneath my metaphorical heel, and what lay beyond was mine to take and use as I saw fit.
I stepped into the Chamber, surveying the domain. The room was far smaller than the Dark Council Chamber or the Chamber of Acknowledgement, yet the design was similar. We stepped onto a large floor, one of polished metal and stood before an empty throne. I could sense the Dark Side moving around me, trying to confound and intimidate me, but I only chuckled in response. Pushing my presence outward, I crushed the attempted threat and assumed control of the room, banishing any remnant of any former Emperor, be that Vitiate or the fools who came after him.
The walls were again covered in murals, these depicting great fleets of Sith warships destroying anything that stood against them. Another display of the Emperor's might. Another sign that perhaps Vitiate had some core insecurity that required him to place himself at the centre of all Sith culture. As if he could not survive without their worship.
The ceiling was far above us, disappearing into the dark, before I lifted my head and saw what lay overhead. The roof formed a dome, oddly reminding me of the shape of the Senate building on Coruscant or the dome of a cathedral. There was nothing there of importance, and my gaze returned to what lay before me.
Behind the throne, a staircase rose, leading upwards to the only other exit from the chamber. That was where I knew I had to go; however, before I did, I moved to the throne, the Dark Side acquiescing to my power as I ran a finger along one armrest. "He never sat here," I whispered, my voice carrying around the chamber. A smirk came to my face as I understood why. The room was designed so that the acoustics of whoever sat or stood there dominated everything, making it seem like the Emperor's voice was everywhere all at once.
I moved to the stairs, climbing them slowly, mindful of both the potential for danger or traps that lay ahead of me and watchful of how the Force shifted with each step I took. I was in command here, my power reigned, yet I wasn't foolish enough to think I was immune to threats or aware of everything that could be done with the Dark Side.
At the top of the stairs, the door slid open, the ancient mechanism perhaps recognising me, or merely opening as it was assumed no one but the Emperor's Voice would ever seek passage beyond the chamber. Inside, I emerged into an oddly blank room. All that was present was a large table, one that, when I moved closer, refused to engage.
My fingers ran along the edges, noting the dust that had built up on them. An unusual thing so far in the more important places on Dromund Kaas, and something that suggested somewhere there was damage to the Citadel, one that allowed external air into this section of the complex.
"Observation: This appears to be some sort of command table, Master. One used to interact with other elements of the Empire and direct them according to the Emperor's orders."
"I suspect Vitiate didn't place too much importance on that," I replied as I lifted my fingers from the table. "His focus, from what little I've learnt about him so far, suggests he preferred to be hands-off and focus on whatever it was that dominated his attention. The running of the Empire was likely left to the Dark Council unless they did something he disapproved of."
"Evaluation: Yes, that does seem probable, Master. However, these Voices of his might have acted in his stead. Directing the might of the Empire without his direct control."
I grunted. "Possible." What we knew about an Emperor's Voice was limited. I understood that they had some part of his essence imparted into them; that much had become clear from what the Gatekeeper of Vitiate's holocron had said and the sensations that seemed to provide hints of answers that I possessed after claiming his Throne in the Palace.
The others had found mentions in what they'd so far examined that suggested a Voice who spoke for the Emperor to the Dark Council. There had clearly been multiple Voices during Vitiate's reign; however, why he had removed or changed them wasn't clear. They had to serve more purpose than simply speaking for the Emperor while he was otherwise occupied, but no hint of what else they did existed in the records we'd examined.
There were three doors leading from this central space, somewhere I knew that Vitiate could speak with his Voice in privacy. While I was semi-curious about what lay beyond the other doors, I was drawn to one in particular. The door to my right was the one that led to the object that I wanted to find, according to Vitiate's records.
One of the later Emperors or Empresses might have found and moved the object. However, as I approached the door, I felt a gentle resonance within the Force. Something beyond was calling out to me. As if it held a link to my position as a Child of Vitiate. I paused and closed my eyes as I focused on the resonance, a smirk coming to my face as I caught the ancient, twisted power of the Dark Side from beyond the door. Something far older than this fallen Sith Empire awaited me there.
A wave of my hand, accompanied by taking control of the Force that slithered through the door, had it slide open. Stepping forward, I emerged into a darkened room. One that reminded me of the vault inside the Sphere of Military Command. Unlike that vault, this storage room was generally empty. A few items on random shelves, none of which appeared to be of interest, two… no three holocrons rested around the room, yet none of them held my focus. Not like the large object that had once sat on a shelf but had since grown to seemingly consume the shelf and several more nearby, judging by how they were deformed around its surface.
"Commentary: It appears that the object has grown since it was placed there, Master, though I am unsure of how such a thing could be achieved."
"The Force, HK," I said as I moved closer to the roughly spherical object. "It grows because it can harness the Force, matter, and energy to feed itself. In a place such as this, with the Dark Side like a lingering storm just waiting to rise again, it's spent over three millennia slowly gorging on that power, growing from something that had once fit on a shelf to what we see before us."
The device was about ten metres across, and as I moved closer, it seemed to vibrate within the Force, sensing my approach and the connection that I shared with it. Lifting a hand, I placed it lightly on the surface. My eyes closed, and I smiled as I felt the power that lay within this creation, and the seemingly infinite potential for more it possessed.
Without removing my hand from the device, I used Observe on it. My smile grew, and I struggled not to start laughing in delight at the insanity of what I'd just found. Compared to everything we'd found on Dromund Kaas so far, this alone was potentially worth all that and more.
I turned to HK, his optical sensors brightening as he saw the slightly mad grin I wore. "Tell me, HK, do you recall the Star Forge?"
"Answer: Yes, Master, I remember the Rakatan creation the Builder used to…" I watched, fighting back the urge to chuckle as HK froze. I swore I could hear the processors and gears in his mind turning as he put together what I was hinting at. "Query: Is this… is this a fragment of that, Master?"
"One Revan took from the Forge before Malak betrayed him," I answered, knowing this from what Observe had told me. "He referred to it as the Infinite Engine."
… …
… …
This story is cross-posted on Fanfiction.net, Archive of Our Own, and Royal Road.
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Tremors of the Ancient Past 4
… …
As I crossed the threshold of the entrance to the Imperial Palace, I felt a shift in the air. As if I were entering the lair of a predator that would devour me whole if I were unprepared. The Force somehow became thicker, making it almost impossible to sense much beyond a few metres around me. Even when I grasped the Dark Side, commanding it to yield to me, I only managed to push back the sense of foreboding that hampered my ability to sense beyond my location slightly.… …
Dooku had mentioned that there would be challenges when we entered a moment ago, yet, even though I heard his words and was anticipating danger, the way the Force was behaving was unexpected. What, perhaps, made it more ominous was the chamber I had stepped into.
The light on my helmet had activated, yet the beam was swallowed by the darkness in the chamber, failing to reach the other side. Taking another step forward and turning my head, I examined the walls once the beam was able to locate them. With Dooku and Maul a few steps behind me, and the others following them, the light from my armour illuminated giant statues of Sith warriors that rose to the ceiling; something that was easily fifty metres above us.
Of the half dozen statues, the light passed over, I noticed that while each warrior was dressed the same, in their hands they held different weapons. Not one of which was a lightsaber. Turning to the other side, I saw the pattern repeated by the statues there. Longswords, spears, pikes, axes, war hammers, and other weapons from eras that were ancient when the banished Jedi, under the leadership of Ajunta Pall, claimed domination over the Sith species.
These statues were placed to show some sort of legacy from Pall, or perhaps even from Adas, all the way through the aeons until Vitiate became the Emperor of this Sith Empire. The way the eye sockets of the statues, devoid of any feature, seemed to follow the light from my helmet, and then those from HK, Simvyl, and Anakin as they entered, only added to a room that seemed designed to instil terror in those unworthy of stepping into the Emperor's presence.
The only sounds within the chamber were our footfalls, each echoing off the walls around us as we spread out slightly, and the roar of the storm that raged over the Palace outside. The floor was a mixture of crimson and onyx tiles, each seeming to pulse with intent while part of some grand design that both beckoned one deeper into the chamber while trying to instil fear and terror within the minds of those present.
I pushed forward confidently, assured that I deserved to be here and that no echo of any Sith, no matter how powerful they had been, would deny me the answers I sought from this place. As my feet passed a seemingly arbitrary mark on the floor, a roar rushed around the walls. My lightsaber came up, and my feet shifted, ready to face whatever challenge was about to be unleashed. Yet as I stood there ready to strike, a position copied by the others, what happened was not the threat I expected, or at least not a direct threat.
Around the walls, between the statues, braziers that had been hidden in the darkness roared to life, bathing the chamber in an eerie, almost demonic violet light. The light flickered off the walls behind each brazier, which were polished to perfectly reflect the light and create a wondrous yet cavernous appearance that made the chamber appear to be several times greater than it truly was.
Sensing a ripple of fear and concern from behind me, I turned and moved towards Anakin. "Relax," I said gently as I placed my hand on his shoulder. "There is nothing here that will harm you. Not without having to go through me first," I added with a smile that, while he couldn't see, he should be able to sense as I pushed a burst of comfort to him through the Force. "Remember your training and be aware of your surroundings. Both here and within the Force."
There was a short pause, during which I felt his mental defences harden as he took my words on board. "Yes, sir," he replied, and while there was a speck of uncertainty in his tone, the majority was confident.
I squeezed his shoulder, something his HUD would report, and then turned around, moving toward one of the various statues, wanting to get a better look at it. As I approached, noting that this warrior held a two-headed axe with a shaft around half as tall as the statue, I took in the design. Beyond being composed of the same obsidian as the walls, there were inlaid stones. Onyx, rubies, kuggerags, and other rare stones were all placed carefully into the obsidian, the layout mimicking the Sith script I'd seen on the doors of the Palace, along with on the Imperial Throne in the Dark Council Chambers.
Within the Force, I could feel the power that rested in these arrangements. As if awaiting some hidden command to flare and bring the statue to life. I stepped back, cautious that getting too close to one might trigger that to happen. While the threat of a statue, or even the dozens that lay around the circular walls of this chamber, was no true challenge in theory, I didn't wish to risk the danger. Nor was I, like some weak fool who might somehow gain entry here, seeking to remove the gems because of their worth.
Looking upwards, I saw that the ceiling high above us was apparently devoid of markings. The still blackness of it was seemingly the only threat it posed. Yet within the Force, I could feel the energy of the room centring there around some unseen point. Ready, seemingly, to strike down at any deemed unworthy of passing beyond this chamber.
As I neared the far side of the room, I felt something shift in the Force. An almost imperceivable change from ahead, beyond the massive doors that led deeper into the Palace. As had been the case for so long with places linked to the former Emperor Vitiate, it seemed to resonate within my soul, urging me to move forward. To claim something that I didn't know was waiting for me. I pushed that whispered clarion call aside, but continued moving toward the only exit from our current chamber.
Once near the door leading from this chamber, I paused, knowing that my next step would see the path become further revealed. I took the moment to look back at those with me. HK was his ever-vigilant self, his optical sensors scanning the room, his circuits no doubt trying to understand how the chamber buzzed with energy while there were no obvious power conduits.
Simvyl was near the droid, his rifle scanning the room slowly as he moved across it. Of those on this mission, he was probably the least suited for it. Yet, as had been the case since Zonama Sekot, he came, fulfilling his vow to stand at my side. At times I felt as if I overlooked or neglected him, but his constant presence was oddly reassuring; the only – to use HK's word – meatbag with me who wasn't highly attuned to the Force. That difference had come in handy on occasion, and I would never discard his service because of it.
Between the pair, Anakin moved, looking every inch the little Mando'ade he was. My shoto was at his hip, the shorter blade suiting him until he either located a crystal he felt a connection to, or I decided to let him attempt to craft one himself. To do that was something only one who had walked into the Dark Side and remained in control of themselves was capable of achieving, and while many would question my choice to begin training him in the darker aspects of the Force, I knew he had the inclination to not just use that power, but master it. He was born of the Force and was a conduit for it, unlike anything the galaxy had seen in millennia, if not ever.
Perhaps the path I was walking with him was one some would consider insane, but it was one that the Force had shown us we had to walk. The only way to ensure the galaxy wasn't plunged into a darkness from which it might never recover was if we stood together. The visions making that clear had been some of the clearest I had ever experienced, and while I didn't consider myself a master of understanding the Force, nor did I place faith in what it showed was the only path, I felt, in that instance, I had been aligned with Anakin and the Force perfectly. Whatever it took to see the future I felt was best for the majority of the galaxy, not just for me or Anakin, was the one I would pursue, regardless of where it took me.
Aside from myself, Maul and Dooku were the most prepared and capable for whatever lay ahead, with both holding their lightsabers ignited at their sides, ready to strike if threatened. Dooku's poise, refinement, and apparent civility acted as the perfect counter for Maul's caged but controlled rage. Each was powerful in the Force and would use it how they deemed necessary, but they did so in ways that the other might not consider. Perhaps in time, some of Dooku's elegance would rub off on Maul, or that the Zabrak's ability to summon the rage of the Dark Side could be fully harnessed by my former Jedi Master. However, for now, they were ideal complements for each other with my approach lying somewhere between them, and without being arrogant, acting as the glue that kept them, and the rest of the group, together.
Dooku nodded when he saw my helmet turned to him and the others, as if assuring me that he remained ready. Shifting my focus back to the exit from this chamber, I took a step forward. As I did so, the floor beneath me lit up; whatever arcane way the Force was being funnelled around this chamber was reacting to my presence.
While I watched, ready for anything to happen but not sensing a threat, the ominous red light of the floor shifted around, gliding around and illuminating a pattern. One I pulled from my memory of the Imperial Citadel to match a series of Sith glyphs on the door behind the Imperial Throne.
The light travelled over the floor, expanding the enlarged Sith symbols that carried importance to the Emperor, but I remained unclear on what was stated, never mind what was implied. The light travelled up the door to the next section of the Palace, marking out the frame of the two panels that made the door, enabling everyone to more easily locate it against the polished obsidian of the walls of the chamber.
As I moved closer, the doors swung open, inviting us to traverse deeper into the darkness – both metaphorical and literal – that was the Imperial Palace. The sensation that something important to me, something that might reshape my future, grew stronger when the doors opened, and it felt as if a siren's call was singing to me, tempting me to move forward and discover something that would redefine everything. None of this made any sense to me, as I simply couldn't have any connection to Vitiate, yet the draw that I'd been experiencing ever since approaching Dromund Kaas beat like the drums of war within the Force, calling me forward.
Taking a cautious first step, I moved into the next section of the Palace. As the light flowed from the now-opened doors along the walls, it was clear we were entering a large corridor or hall. One that, like the previous chamber, I felt was designed to not just display the might of the Emperor, but test those summoned to determine if they were truly worthy of standing before their leader and ruler.
From some unseen location, a deep, resonant hum filled the air. The HUD failed to locate the sound, never mind the source, yet I could feel it inside me, rattling through my bones as if I was being weighed and judged. Behind me, as they emerged into the hall, I suspected the others were undergoing something similar; another probable test of our worthiness to stand before the Emperor. Or in our case, the echo of him that remained deep within his Palace.
Moving forward, my eyes took in the murals that lined the start of the hall. They were almost identical to those that covered some of the external walls of the Palace near the main entrance. Depictions of the fall of a previous Sith Empire began the display, before one figure – Vitiate, no doubt – gathered the survivors, placing them onto ships that reminded me oddly of arcs, and then guided them to their new homes.
"Rather full of himself," I muttered to myself. I would, however, admit that if Vitiate had done all he claimed, if he was the same Sith who had led the survivors of the Great Hyperspace War to this world and helped rebuild their people into an empire that had controlled half the galaxy for a time, then he had the right to be arrogant.
Each step forward seemed to cause the pull within me to grow stronger, though I did my best to ignore it. Instead, I focused on the potential for danger, for some hidden test or trap that might spring into existence because of one wrong step, or the slightest hint radiated into the Force that we were not members of this long-dead Sith Empire.
The floor beneath me, as was quickly becoming a common trope, was polished black stone, likely still Obsidian or some other such substance. There were neither markings engraved into it nor any separate slabs, just a single block beyond massive as the hall seemed to stretch on forever. Gemstones that had been carved to perfection. No doubt the work of Force Alchemy, though the Jedi would consider it akin to the creation of Sithspawn like the defeated Terentatek or the tuk'ata that supposedly guarded the tombs of the greatest Sith Lords on Korriban. Perhaps there were some even deep in the jungles of Dromund Kaas, though I'd yet to feel any hint that Fenrir had encountered more of his kind in his exploration.
The murals ended, replaced by, rather oddly, a row of mirrors on each side. I slowed my pace, such as it was, mindful and curious as to the purpose of the mirrors. Gazing into the first, I saw only my reflection. No hint of some hidden trick or illusion, be that something my armour's sensors could detect or within the Force. Yet as I moved on, I saw the minute changes in my appearance.
A point of discolouration of my armour on my right thigh, the beskad missing from my hip, only to be replaced in the next mirror by what appeared to be the Darksaber. The colour patterns of my armour changed, from the dominant black that represented justice to a dark grey for a lost loved one. The next image showed gold becoming more prominent on my armour, signalling a desire for vengeance. That then faded to a dull yellow of remembrance along with maroon and scarlet for power and defiance.
Changing colours on one's armour was entirely natural, yet as I moved down the hall, my image changing slightly in each mirror, it was as if I was seeing my future. Or a possible one played out by the changes in my armour. Not just the colour, but the weaponry. What I carried now was lethal, but much of it remained tied to simply taking down a target quickly. The later reflections I saw, the additions to the armour were focused on carnage, chaos, and damage. No care was given to how it might affect others, only that the weaponry chosen was efficient and brutal.
I couldn't help but wonder what events had shaped this path the mirrors were displaying. What insanity had seen me turn from a focused warrior into one that, based on armour colour and weaponry, seemed to enjoy the carnage I brought. Closing my eyes, I shook my head, dismissing those thoughts. The Dark Side was trying to confuse me, to show me something that would happen unless I submitted to it, and the will of the Emperor. That I knew would not happen.
When my eyes opened, the reflection had changed. I still saw myself, yet the armour was gone, and a moment later I realised I was looking at myself. The me from before Naboo and the path I'd walked since. As I moved down the hall, that reflection changed, growing into what I was today minus the armour, and instead in dark robes. Something akin to what Anakin had worn in the other timeline before he submitted to Sidious and the Dark Side.
I watched as this version of me, this possible future, aged. To my disgust, a beard reminiscent of Dooku's formed on my chin. It was not because I disliked his beard, but that I'd sworn to never grow one. Yet this version of me, one that appeared to remain closer to the Light Side if I had to guess, chose that option. As my reflection grew older, the scene behind him changed.
The unmistakable images of war slowly became bolder, though the details remained hazy. As if the mirrors wouldn't show me the specifics of this path. I growled as I saw myself fighting alongside Yoda and Windu against two figures cloaked in shadow. Sidious and Plagueis. All five combatants swirled around the reflection, their movements and blade colours – mine was purple and black there -merging into a symphony of colour.
The duel faded away, and the figure that appeared of me now stood with two others. Their appearance made me pause, and I moved closer to the mirror, generating this reflection. How was it possible for me to stand with Revan and Bastila? Revan was gone before I was reborn into this world, and Bastila was a very old lady. Yet here they appeared no older than me, younger even in Bastila's case if I had to guess.
You are not yet what you must be.
My head snapped to the side, looking into the distance, further down the hall into the shadows that awaited me. The voice, one that echoed in the Force, was that of my mother's. Of that I was sure. Yet she had never been here, never set foot in Sith Space from all the records I'd seen.
I shook my head, growling as I did so. The Force bent to my demands, and I pushed out my presence, dismissing the tricks the Dark Side and the remnant of the Emperor were trying to play upon me. I was not their tool or toy; I was not theirs to direct and control. Their time was over. It was my time now.
With a snarl, I lashed out, not just quieting the voice that had dared take on the persona of my mother, but obliterating it. Whatever vile thread had lingered in the Force to create that was reduced to nothing. No one would use my family, living, dead, or still to come, against me. Not without facing my fury in response.
Yet even as I obliterated the source of the voice, I swore I heard a deep, primal, powerful laugh within the Force. One that seemed to vibrate through my bones and echo in my soul. A sense that someone, the Emperor I suspected, was amused by my reaction.
I growled but retained control over my emotions. This, all the reflections so far and whatever else lay ahead, was a test. It was not just to prove I was worthy to stand in his presence, but to learn what drew me deeper into the Palace. What secrets lay hidden somehow bound me to Vitiate.
After securing my mind against another attempt to distract and trick me, I moved forward. This time, I ignored the mirrors, aware of their purpose and unwilling to give them any further chance to distract or influence me. Behind me, the others no doubt faced tests of their own, ones that would challenge them in ways they might not be prepared for. However, I had passed mine and would push onwards. Whatever secrets this Palace contained would be revealed, and I would take everything of value from it.
The hall ran on for another five minutes, the mirrors continuing to provide reflections, though my gaze was never theirs to claim. I wouldn't fall for their deceptions again, and soon I found myself before a large, ornately carved set of doors. The pull that had grown stronger with each step now seemed to dominate the Force around me, hinting that the answers I sought were just beyond, ready for me to claim.
The doors came alive with light, dark purples and reds swirling in the runes of the door. A single figure was carved into them, their eyes gazing down upon us as if challenging us one final time. From the various recordings taken from the Citadel, this was Vitiate, the Emperor who had ruled here for centuries.
"I sense whatever lies beyond will change things." My eyes remained on the door, mindful of the carved gaze of Vitiate as my former Master spoke. "For all of us certainly, but for you most of all, Cameron."
"The pull," I began slowly, "it's stronger now than it's ever been. It wants… needs me to enter so I can discover what is going on."
"We're here for you."
A small smile came to my face under my helmet at Anakin's words and the certainty he had that he, along with the others, would stand with and protect me from whatever lay beyond. "I know, and yet…" I paused, the words I sought not quite forming for a moment. "What lies beyond these doors… It will change me in some way. Of that I'm sure."
"Then face the challenge and defeat it. That is what a warrior should do."
That statement came not from Maul but Simvyl, who had, as had become common since Kiffu, been more withdrawn. I didn't doubt his loyalty, just that he understood his importance in decision-making for our group had diminished. First with the arrival of Quinlan, and now with Dooku and Maul with us on Dromund Kaas.
I nodded, confirming his words, and then moved closer to the door. Unlike the previous one, this didn't open as I neared. Instead, I had to press my palm against it. A shiver raced up my spine as I felt a direct connection to the echo of Vitiate that lingered here. For a moment, I was still, the echo pushing against my mind. Not to gain entry or control, but to judge me to determine if I was worthy of entrance.
What felt very much like an amused chuckle came from the echo before it pulled back. As it did, I felt the doors give, and they swung open without me having to truly push them. A signal perhaps that I had passed whatever test the echo had put me through. With the doors now open, I stepped forward, ready to discover what was calling me here and end the mystery that had lingered for nearly two weeks.
The chamber I stepped into reminded me slightly of both the Dark Council Chambers and the Jedi Council Chamber. It was large and circular, creating the impression that all who entered were equal. Contradicting this, however, was the raised dais, one that extended from a large, imposing door on the far wall while also circling along the wall to two smaller doors that couldn't be easily accessed and had no way to climb up to it, making it clear that one figure was above all. The dais was a good ten metres above the floor that we emerged into the chamber, ending near the centre of the chamber in a circular stand.
At the circular end of the dais rested the Throne of Emperor Vitiate. Even a cursory glance at it had me certain that no figure bar Vitiate had ever sat on that throne. Beyond the back of it being three metres high, ending in sharp spikes and being framed by what the HUD confirmed was platinum, and with gems inlaid in the throne and metal that glowed as they formed the shapes of Sith runes and glyphs, everything about the Throne demanded attention and was where Vitiate had spoken with those beneath him when away from the Dark Council Chambers.
I moved slowly forward into the chamber, my eyes on the throne while I remained alert for any threat. The Force was thicker here than it had been at any other place on the planet so far, and yet oddly not. As if I could see a path through the stormy fog that engulfed the Palace. A path that led directly towards the Throne.
The more I stared at the Throne, the more the pull towards it grew stronger. A phantom allure that tugged at my soul, and I struggled to resist. The Dark Side was oddly still around me, even as I felt it gather around the others as they entered the chamber. I knew they were being tested to prove their worth to stand before the Emperor. I, however, was being summoned to the Throne to kneel before whatever remained of Vitiate.
As I came closer, I saw that the dais wasn't as impassable as I'd initially believed. There were levels there, though each was a step that resembled a climb up a mountainside, one where if the climber failed, they would be condemned to the deepest, darkest pools of the Force.
The Dark Side grew heavier the closer I moved to the dais, yet it continued to beckon me onwards. Each step felt as if the weight of the world was being added anew to my shoulders, yet the HUD reported no change in any metrics it could understand.
I blinked, swearing that for a moment I'd seen energy dancing between the spikes that rose at the back of the Throne. Physical manifestations of the Dark Side that the Throne controlled. Yet the HUD failed to sense them, making my mind question what was real in this chamber. What my eyes and the armour's sensors could detect, or what I could feel with every pore and nerve in my body.
My chest grew heavy, each breath laboured as I reached the base of the dais. Behind me, I thought I heard someone speak; a warning to stop, perhaps. Yet the words failed to register with my mind, and I lifted one leg to climb the first step of the dais.
Time felt as if it was slowing around me as I ascended the dais. Each step was a fight against the Dark Side, even as I was summoned upwards. I could feel the remnant of Vitiate against the edges of my mind. An indistinct voice teasing and challenging me as I rose. He knew what was happening. He understood why I was pulled towards his Throne. The voice, in words spoken in a language I didn't know, seemed to encourage, torment, threaten, and persuade in equal measure.
As I climbed the last step of the dais and stood before the Throne, my eyes scanned its surface, drawn to the markings upon it. Power radiated from the Throne, both that the sensors of my armour could sense, and within the Force.
The armrests were adorned with Sith iconography intermingled with what appeared to be lightsabers that extended from the backrest to the end of the arms. On each end, where the grooves for fingers to rest, was a repeated symbol. One that I recalled seeing above the entrance to the Emperor's chamber in the Dark Council Chambers. The mark of this Sith Empire, and in many ways the sigil of Vitiate, was undoubtedly one that Sidious had drawn inspiration from during the creation of the seal of the Galactic Empire in the other timeline.
The seat itself appeared both designed for a ruler and yet inherently uncomfortable. As if some twisted reminder that power should never be taken for granted, nor the danger it represented ignored. Whoever sat here had to remain ever vigilant of threats, both from external forces and those who had sworn their loyalty, lives, and even souls to their Emperor.
The Force crackled around the Throne, pulsing with almost malignant intent into the Force; what I was now certain was the source of Vitiate's echo. The Throne was fundamentally connected to him that even after he had been destroyed – defeated in some way that supposedly removed his very essence from lingering in the Force – something of him was able to linger here. That lingering remnant was no doubt why none had ever tried to breach the Imperial Palace, or at least managed to gain entry to the Throne Room. The south wing of the complex was rubble, so some had succeeded in gaining some form of entry, but, beyond that, the place was immaculately preserved.
I powered down my lightsaber and attached it to my hip before I moved to remove the gauntlet covering my remaining flesh limb. My fingers glided over the surface of the arm, careful not to touch anything. The Throne called to me, demanding and pleading with me to sit upon it, to claim what was mine. It promised power of untold depths while offering the promise to reshape the galaxy. To wipe clean the scourge of the Jedi and the falsehoods of the Sith pretenders who followed the teachings of Darth Bane. Of the chance to, with the power it contained, reforge the Empire and bring the galaxy to its knees.
The offer tempted me. That I wouldn't deny. The chance to wield the power I felt from the Throne, to take whatever remained of Vitiate's power for myself, called to me on a primal level. The opportunity to take what was before me and use it to create the universe I desired. Yet, I knew there was something more to the offer, something hidden and untold that would harm me and those I cared for, and therefore I rejected the offer.
Yet, even though I had no intention of sitting on the Throne, I was drawn to it. That there was something here beyond the simple lure of power that tugged at my soul. As my fingers touched the surface of one of the armrests, I gasped as my mind was assaulted by the power of the Dark Side, mingled with what lingered of Vitiate's essence.
Around me, the air grew heavy, seemingly rippling with energy that pounded from the Throne with such intensity that the armour's sensors failed to detect anything but the Throne. While the Battlenet failed, I felt my connections to the others within the Force wither away, cutting me off from their aid. My body struggled to move as it felt as if the armour I wore, something that was a part of who I was, turned from protection and a connection to the culture I'd adopted into a prison from which, with the Dark Side swarming around me as it attempted to shatter my resolve, there appeared no escape from.
My mechanical arm stopped moving, becoming little more than a deadweight as I tried and failed to remove my natural fingers from the armrest of the Throne. My heartbeat pounded, the only sound that reached my ears, with an ever-increasing rhythm; a drum sounding a call of chaos and war.
I heard screams born from nothingness echo within my ears, the voices in a hundred thousand tongues that my brain couldn't focus on long enough to even attempt to recognise, never mind decipher. The only thing about the screams was that I somehow knew that they had stood before the Throne, before the Emperor, and been deemed unworthy, that what I was enduring was their last moments before Vitiate consumed their souls.
The ground beneath me seemed to shift, swirling around and slowly encasing my boots, ensuring that even if my limbs would obey, or the armour would protect me, I couldn't escape. That my fate was the same as every pathetic fool that had dared challenge the Emperor's will. Within my closed eyes, colours began to run into each other, merging, mixing, and separating in orders that made no sense and only served to increase the pressure my mind was under. Everything and anything that I could understand was wrong, and everything that I couldn't screamed, shouted, and demanded that I accept my fate. That I allow myself to be consumed and destroyed by a power greater than any I could ever hope to match.
Within the Force, I felt myself being torn asunder, the Dark Side yielding to whatever remained of Vitiate and acting to remove the latest threat to his legacy. To consume one who dared to claim his power for himself. I could feel the Force clawing at my memories, trying to tear them from my mind, to shred the order and sequence of my life into chaos, and attempting to shatter everything that made me who I was.
Images of my greatest triumphs – defeating the krayt dragon, overcoming Maul on Naboo, qualifying to serve in 2-2 – merged with my worst moments – the months under Vosa's control, the despair at Fay's potential death on Zonama Sekot, my failure to protect Anakin – swirled around in a disordered muddle. My desires for the future, for those I cared about and loved, mixed with my apathy and hatred towards others, confusing friend with foe, lover with joker, those I could trust with faces I'd only seen once. I stood alone in the Force, cut off from everyone and everything that mattered, being ripped apart while the voice of Vitiate, of his echo, rattled around my mind, taking pleasure in the destruction it was commanding.
The obsidian beneath me seemed to melt, drawing me down to my knees and trapping me beside the Throne that I couldn't let go of. My thoughts began to scatter; pulled from me as the Dark Side swarmed through the meagre defences around my mind, while my soul felt the cold claws and teeth of whatever lurked in the darkest recesses of the Dark Side, tearing it apart.
Yet, as I struggled to retain everything that made me who I was, as I fought a losing battle against the Dark Side, I felt something rise up within me. Not the well of rage that lurked deep in my soul, nor any specific memory. No, what I felt, what I latched onto as the only beacon of hope within the madness I was enduring, was a primal, instinctual strength that was everything I could be, everything I wanted to be.
What I felt from deep inside wasn't anything I'd realised was there before, yet as I grasped onto this beacon and focused all my power, will, and control on it, I understood what it was. The combined influence over everything I'd ever done, everywhere I'd ever been, everything I'd ever learnt. It was who I was before, what I was now and what I could become in the future, formed into a single, almost sentient spark. My training from my old life, along with that as a Jedi and Mando'ade merged into one, as yet unfinished being. What many might call my soul.
'Ba'jur bal beskar'gam,' I said to myself within the deepest recesses of my mind as I poured my power inward, strengthening the sentient spark in time with the beating of my heart. My memories of learning with Dooku and Fay began to reform as I fuelled my soul, empowering it as I showed me the path forward.
'Ara'nov, alit.'
The faces of those I cared for, from Bo and Serra, through Anakin, Naz, Dooku, Fay, Padmé, and others, returned to focus, the memories linked to them slowly reconnecting to the points of where my life had intertwined with theirs. The parts of me shaped by them added a layer of armour around the spark, emboldening it as it grew brighter against the darkness that swirled around me, trying to rip everything I was from me.
'Mando'a bal Mand'alor.'
The choices I'd made, in this life and the last, revealed themselves with startling clarity, aligning one by one to trace the path that had led me to this moment. Every action, big or small, important or not, that I had taken had helped create who I was, and I wouldn't allow the echo of this failed Sith Emperor to destroy everything that made me who I was. Not a child of Revan, nor one sent to bring an impossible ideal of mythical balance, but one who would take the galaxy by the scruff of its neck, and no matter how it and those within it might resist, drag it into a glorious future free of the lies of the Jedi and Sith.
'An vencuyan mhi.'
With my sense of self restored, I gathered my power, readying to strike against the attacks from the depths of the Dark Side. When I lashed out, it wasn't to destroy that darkness or burn it from existence. No, I grasped onto it, imposing my will, my power over it.
It fought, empowered as it was by the remnant of Vitiate that lingered here, trying to counter my sudden shift in tactics. The fury and power that lashed against my attempts, battled with my intent, was incredible. The power that lay here could shatter stars and reshape galaxies. It whispered to me to take that power, to remake the galaxy with it.
Those voices and offers were slapped away and ground under my metaphorical heel. I was not a servant of the Force and its deranged desires. No, it was mine to use, mine to control, and mine to direct.
The assaults against the very core of my identity slackened, the power of the Dark Side wielded by Vitiate's echo weakening with each passing moment as I asserted every ounce of my presence over him and the Force as it raged around me. My body, which had previously felt as if it was trapped inside my armour, slowly responded to my demands. I could feel my mechanical limb as it reconnected to my nervous system.
I rose slowly, restoring control over myself as I felt my connections within the Force returning: The chaos that had been assaulting me, intending to shred me from existence, was loosening as I grasped onto it. Each claw, each tendril of its power I touched was consumed by my ironclad will. Its power added to mine.
The air crackled with intent as I opened my eyes, taking in the eddies of the air, weighed down by the Force, as they swirled around me. Flickers of energy, red, purple, and black, snarled in the storm that roared around me. A storm that I was no longer merely at the eye of, but was drawing inward as I consumed the power it possessed.
The faint voice, one now filled with fear, all but begged me to stop. It raged against its defeat, at being forever banished from the galaxy; its power taken by someone greater than it. By me.
I stepped in front of the Throne, sensing the voice radiating from there. I knew this was the echo that had drawn me here, that had tried to trick me with its intent and destroy me so it could use me to reclaim what had once been. Now, as I turned to face the chamber and my hands lowered to brush over the grips of the armrests, that voice, that final, desperate attempt by Vitiate to retain some sense of purpose and life, mewed like a pathetic insect before me, and as I sat, I destroyed it, consigning Vitiate to becoming nothing more than a footnote in history. Another in a long line of failed Sith who had tried to control the galaxy but failed as they inevitably always did.
As my armour touched the surface of the Throne, I felt the last embers of power within it shatter into fragments. Those fragments exploded outward, filling the air with a twisted crimson light that splashed over the walls. The chamber, what I now knew was called The Chamber of Acknowledgement – where those summoned knelt before their emperor and God – flared to life, braziers on the walls igniting as the energy splashed over the walls.
I blinked as I realised where I was, breathing heavily to recover from my ordeal before I looked down at the others. All were watching me, the only one to show no concern was HK. Simvyl's face hinted at concern; however, it was clear that he didn't fully understand what had happened. Only that something monumental had taken place. Anakin's face was hidden by his armour, but I could sense his concern at what I'd just endured and the change that had overcome the Force within the Chamber. Through the Force, I sent him a comforting reassurance, hoping he understood that I was well, though perhaps changed by what I'd just endured.
Maul's gaze was firmly on me, his eyes narrowed slightly, though I failed to sense any anger or rage. What I did sense from him, my ability to feel the minute changes in the Force now seemingly heightened, was an increased sense of respect, with just a hint of envy. I offered him a nod, which he returned, as I sat on the Throne, its energy moving at my command.
When my eyes found Dooku, my former Master simply raised a single eyebrow. I smirked under my helmet at the gesture, oddly reassured by the familiarity, even as I sensed his curiosity at what had just happened along with his pride that I had endured and overcome whatever had just happened to me.
My lips opened so I could begin explaining events, only for me to pause as I felt a pull from the Force. One aimed at a spot on the floor in front of the Throne, between my feet. Leaning down, I concentrated on that spot and pushed at what I felt with the Force.
A section of the dais' floor shifted; the armour's sensors were confused at the change in what it still regarded as one continuous block of obsidian. In the gap, I saw a familiar triangular shape, though before I could move to reach down, the gap was illuminated in light, and the holocron within rose into the air before me.
The eyes of the others were on the holocron as it rose as well, save HK's optical sensors, which turned with him as he began to scan the room, alert to a threat while the rest of us were preoccupied. The holocron stopped rising in front of me, within easy reach. The instinct to simply reach out and touch it, to force the Gatekeeper to reveal its secrets, burned within me. I, however, resisted that temptation, aware of the danger it presented.
Yet even as I stared at the holocron, I felt the familiar pull that had lingered at the edges of my senses ever since we'd arrived in the Dromund system. For a moment, as I'd sat on the Throne and recovered from the ordeal I'd just conquered, that pull had gone silent, yet it returned with interest from the holocron.
As I watched the holocron while it floated before me, I felt the Throne warm. The runes engraved into the armrests came to life, powered by some ancient ritual programmed into them by Vitiate. At the same time, the edges of the red triangular holocron glowed, the markings there the same as those on the armrests. It was almost as if the two items were interconnected within the Force, and, as strange as it still felt, to me.
Beneath me, under the feet of the others, the floor of the Chamber ignited. Dooku and Maul shifted quickly, their lightsabers in their hands, though remaining unpowered. Anakin shifted as well, moving closer to Dooku as the floor glowed with the same light and energy as the Throne. As Simvyl and HK scanned the floor and the walls for any hint of danger, I understood that this was also connected to my claiming of the Throne. Of me becoming the first seemingly since Vitiate to truly assume control of the Empire.
The air stilled as the energy that flowed through the Chamber stopped. I knew everything was waiting for me to grasp the holocron; to prove my worth over the Gatekeeper and learn what secrets it contained. Yet as my eyes returned to the floating red pyramid that teased me with the promise of power and answers to unspoken questions, my hands remained on the armrests of the Throne. Every fibre of me felt the pull from the holocron, and the Force itself willed me to take it, yet I didn't. Not because I feared what I might learn, or that there was some hidden trap that I might not be able to overcome, but because I needed a moment to centre myself and recover from what I'd just endured.
Once I felt ready, and after confirming that Dooku and Maul were prepared to assist me if they were needed – even if I knew they wouldn't be – I lifted my hand, the one made of flesh, and reached out for the holocron. The glow from the holocron was oddly calming; a harbour in the energies of the Dark Side that simmered in the Chamber. Almost as if the draw I felt towards it somehow provided me with clarity amongst the raging dangers that lay within the Force and elsewhere on this world. Yet under that, I felt a pull of a personal kind. The same, I realised as my fingers slowly closed to grasp it, as I had to my mother's holocron. Though back then I'd failed to truly understand or appreciate that pull as my connection to the Force was dampened by the Interface.
As my fingers closed around the holocron, I braced, preparing for the challenge of the Gatekeeper. Yet instead of some direct threat against my person or a challenge as I'd had to endure with the holocrons of Adas and Malgus, my mind was assaulted with images. This time, they weren't of my life, but of others.
As the faces flashed before me, and glimpses of their lives and choices raced before me, I tried to make sense of what I was seeing. A Sith stood on a world, one now dead from some ritual he had completed. An old Human watched as two younger men, his sons, fought each other before one struck down the other. A Sith child looking up at an old figure, his father, as the father walks away, leaving the child to wallow in their rage. A Jedi Master striking down his Padawan, then leading others to kill more Jedi. Senators, diplomats, soldiers, workers, and other citizens of various species stopped what they were doing and killed those around them, sowing chaos and carnage. The same Human male watching, a young girl at his side, as another woman flies away unwillingly.
Each of these figures was, I realised, Vitiate. Or perhaps more accurately, his children. Some were borne from him, though as odd as it felt, I knew they didn't come from his Sith body, but most were simply those he had… shaped. Minds he'd shattered and rebuilt to serve his interests across the galaxy, only called upon when the moment was right.
As the memories flood into my mind, there is a rush of power from the holocron. One that tries to use the distractions to sneak past my defences and assume control over me. To plant some final remnant of Vitiate deep within my psyche.
I call on the spark I discovered when the Throne challenged and attempted to break me. That fire was now easy to grasp and wield; now I know it is there. The power pushing against my mind from the holocron recoils, and I drive it back until it is contained within the ancient artefact. I will not allow some fallen false god to rule over me or claim my body and soul.
'You have returned home, my child.'
The voice that echoed in my head caught me off guard. The power of the holocron didn't, however, seek to take advantage. Instead, the connection it had formed with me remained, and I understood it was the holocron, or more accurately, its creator, Vitiate, who had spoken to me.
'One born not by design, but chance.'
I can't help but frown at that statement, lost as to its meaning. I understood from the earlier visions that he created Children either through some unknown means that hid their parentage as a Sith, or by shattering their minds, but my mind, the core of who I was now, came from outside this universe. He'd had no chance to shape my mind, unless…
I shivered as I contemplated the idea that the man whom my mother had fallen in love with, the older Human Sith, had been one of Vitiate's children. Meaning that in some way I shared a connection to the long-dead Sith Emperor. It made her choice to hide me away with her father and lie about my Force potential even more powerful, and explained why the Sith had come for me so early. I wasn't just the child of some random Sith Lord, but a descendant, in some deranged way, of a pureblood Sith Emperor.
Before I had more time to process that seemingly insane concept, the holocron flared to life. Above it came the projection of a pureblood Sith, one I knew without question was Vitiate.
"At last, one of my seeds returns," the Gatekeeper said slowly, its eyes looking at me, even with my armour on, locking onto my gaze with one of its own. "I had thought the last remnants of what I had built and crafted had been lost. That my legacy had ended when the Empire fell after my defeat."
The eyes of the Gatekeeper narrowed as it looked at me, and I felt a probe from it within the Force. As it found whatever it was searching for, it gave a deep, slightly menacing chuckle. "So, the experiment with the child of Revan bore fruit. How unexpected."
"What experiment?" I asked, trying not to hint I already had a suspicion as to how this body came into existence.
"With one of my Voices, I explored the galaxy, seeking knowledge of what became of Revan's bloodline after I captured him for a second time," the Gatekeeper began to explain. "The effort taken to break down his mind had been exhausting, and curious if I might find an easier way to gain control over his power, I searched for his child. The boy had proven pathetic. Unable to control the Force to even a rudimentary basic degree, but his children… his daughter…"
"My mother."
The Gatekeeper smiled with almost vicious enjoyment as I made the connection it sought. "Yes. I had thought the child lost twice. First, when the reports of your lack of power were falsely reported to the Jedi. Then later, when my spies learnt the truth, I sent agents to bring you before me so that I might mould you. However, those agents failed, dying along with supposedly everyone else where you resided." It paused, and as it lifted one hand to its chin, it leaned forward. "How did you survive?"
I stayed silent, not willing to give it the answers it sought, not least as my mind was a jumble of thoughts as I tried to process the confirmation that I was somehow connected to this long-dead Sith Emperor. The idea had me raging at the insanity of it. There was simply no logical way it should be possible, and yet, remembering what I'd seen when the holocron had been activated and the images that flooded into my mind, I could see how it had happened. Yet the simple fact that I never knew, never realised it until now, caused my soul to almost reject its existence.
Sensing I wouldn't cooperate, the Gatekeeper chuckled and waved the query away with a wave of its hand. "No matter," it continued. "How you survived is inconsequential. All that matters is that, with you claiming my Throne, my legacy will endure. I sense that you have defeated what lingered of my presence in claiming the Throne. Good. I will not have my successor be some weak-willed fool like many of the self-serving Dark Lords on my Council, nor a pathetic servant of the Light Side. No, you are the warrior worthy of my legacy."
"What do you know of me?" I snapped, not liking being compared to a monster like Vitiate.
The Gatekeeper chuckled again. "I know nothing and yet enough," it replied, one hand gesturing at me. "You sit on my Throne; the first to do so other than myself, as otherwise this holocron would've activated before now."
"I'm not you," I snapped, my anger rising slightly at the implication of what the Gatekeeper was saying.
"Perhaps, perhaps not," The Gatekeeper responded calmly. "What you are, however, is my legacy." It raised a hand, and I watched as the dais below where the holocron glowed with a deep violet light. That light spread out, running along the edge of the dais.
I didn't need to turn my head to be aware of what was happening. I could feel it through the Throne. The door behind me, the one that led to Vitiate's private chambers, along with the two other doors I'd seen when I'd first entered the Chamber. The one to my left led to what Vitiate had termed the Hall of Eternity, the other to the Veil of Convergence. For that, however, I feared what lay beyond might be lost as that path led to the destroyed wing of the Palace complex.
"Take what was once mine, and use my knowledge to increase your power. Then, as I did, shape the galaxy in the image you wish it to be." With that, the holocron blinked out, though I could feel that if I summoned it, the Gatekeeper would return.
Part of me wished to destroy the holocron, to sever the connection I possessed to Vitiate, yet I hesitated. The knowledge that it might contain, or could explain that I would discover elsewhere, was potentially too great to lash out and obliterate the device simply because of what it had stated. Whatever I was, whether part of Vitiate remained in this boy or not, my strength, my power, was mine, as was the path I would choose as the future unfolded.
Slowly, uncertain of what the future now held, or who I was, I reached out and closed my fingers around the holocron. The moment I did so, the power holding it in place disengaged, forcing me to grasp the relic fully. I brought it closer, my eyes examining it carefully for any hint of deception or misdirection.
Emperor Vitiate's Holocron
The only holocron ever created by the Sith Emperor, known to history as Vitiate.
Only he or those who share a spark of his Force presence may activate it.
Until now, none in the galaxy were aware that Vitiate had created this holocron, and it remains unclear when during his lifetime it was crafted, or when the final influencing of it by Vitiate took place.
HP: 250
Energy Value: 750
Rarity: Unique
Value: >5000000 Credits
Potentially immeasurable historical and cultural significance.
Special Features: Helps grant access to secured locations within the Imperial Palace and elsewhere on Dromund Kaas and beyond, where only The Emperor can enter.
...
As I'd expected, Observe gave me little new information. That said, the fact that this holocron would allow me into certain locations, such as the Emperor's Chamber in the Imperial Citadel and the three doors on the wall of this Chamber, was interesting. I didn't know what lay in any of those locations, but having a method to access those places without having to fight against the Force and whatever might remain of Vitiate's echo was a relief. Just taking one of the Council positions and claiming the Throne I now sat on had almost destroyed me. So long as the cost of using it wasn't too great, the chance to avoid such challenges again wasn't something to be ignored.The only holocron ever created by the Sith Emperor, known to history as Vitiate.
Only he or those who share a spark of his Force presence may activate it.
Until now, none in the galaxy were aware that Vitiate had created this holocron, and it remains unclear when during his lifetime it was crafted, or when the final influencing of it by Vitiate took place.
HP: 250
Energy Value: 750
Rarity: Unique
Value: >5000000 Credits
Potentially immeasurable historical and cultural significance.
Special Features: Helps grant access to secured locations within the Imperial Palace and elsewhere on Dromund Kaas and beyond, where only The Emperor can enter.
...
"Is it true?" I was snapped from my thoughts on the holocron and any developing ones about who I was by Anakin's voice. "Are you his child?"
"I…" My mouth opened and closed after a single word. "I don't know," I replied honestly, my shoulders slumping slightly as I spoke. "I mean, I don't want to believe it, but I know from my mother's holocron that my father was a Dark Sider. He certainly wasn't a Sith, as in one of the species, as my mother would've mentioned that. However, it's possible that the man who seduced my mother was, in some unknown way, connected to Vitiate."
"Perhaps one of these Voices the holocron spoke of," Dooku suggested, his hand resting on his chin as he seemed to ponder what had just been revealed. "I recall discovering that supposedly Vitiate and other extremely powerful Sith Lords were able to… dominate the minds of others, even Force users, and replace the minds of those sentients with a portion of themselves."
"Such things are possible?"
"Anything is achievable once one masters the Dark Side," Maul responded to Simvyl's question, his tone certain. "My former Master spoke of the power it was said the ancient Sith had once wielded. How they created servants that knew nothing of their roles, only activating at their Lord's command when the Lord deemed it pragmatic." He paused, his eyes searching mine almost challengingly for something before he continued. "While I have only just begun to study all that was located in the Sphere of Sith Doctrine, there are mentions of these Voices. It is said they served as the Emperor's Will inside the Empire and his instruments of control across the galaxy."
"So, Cam's really the son of that monster?" I grimaced at Anakin's question, though he didn't see, as his gaze was on Maul. The others, however, did as I tried to formulate a response.
"It matters not if Cameron is of Emperor Vitiate's lineage or not. Just as it has never mattered to myself or others that you are descended from Revan," Dooku began, answering Anakin before I could think of a reply that would ease his concerns. "I have known since the moment I met you that you were destined for greatness. The Force guided me and Master Fay to train you as it, too, was aware of the spark of potential that lay dormant within you." He turned to Anakin. "Just as it guided Cameron to find you when no other was even aware of what you might be capable of achieving." Anakin smiled a little at Dooku's praise, though his eyes danced between me and the floor as if he was uncertain how to react to everything that had just been revealed.
Dooku turned fully to face me, taking a step towards the Throne to ensure my focus was on him. "Whether you are truly Vitiate's progeny is irrelevant, my former Padawan. What matters is that you do not allow this new source of power to corrupt you or pull you from the destiny that lies before you. Take the power that is offered, learn from it as you have from me, Master Fay, King Adas, Darth Malgus, and others, and use it. The past does not dictate the future, my former Padawan. It merely acts as a guide for how not to move forward from the present."
I nodded slowly as I took in Dooku's words, a small sliver of happiness rising within me at his continued support and trust. As always, it was hard to get a read on him within the Force. Even with the bond we shared, he managed his presence with an ironclad will. Yet, from the small glimmers that I had learnt to detect and read, I sensed his usual cold, pragmatic approach there, confirming the words he had spoken were truthful. I was glad of that, and hearing him trust me to have the discipline to not allow this newfound power to corrupt or change me into something neither of us would recognise.
My gaze turned back to my son. "I'm still me, Anakin," I said slowly, my mind drawing strength from Dooku's words. "Who my ancestors are or aren't has never mattered." A slight lie, as I'd intentionally chosen Revan and Bastila as my ancestors for my rebirth, but that was something none could ever learn. "As Master Dooku says, all this means, regardless of the truth of the matter, is that there is the potential for me to gain new power. Power we can use to prepare for what is coming, and gain vengeance on those who have wronged us."
It was manipulative to play on Anakin's desire to see Decca the Hutt suffer for the death of his mother, but it was a logical button to press. Anakin was driven to protect those he cared for and seek retribution for those who were hurt. That was part of his nature that could never be overcome, nor did I wish for it to be. No, what I wanted and what I had been working on in gentle ways for the last few years had been training him not to allow his feelings and desires to completely override his intentions.
That was a lesson I struggled with myself. Always had and always would. Which made my taking Anakin as my Apprentice and then son – the latter not something I had ever intended until the moment it happened – the most logical path. His power would one day surpass mine, and I was comfortable with that. However, I wouldn't allow others, be they Jedi or Banite Sith, to corrupt or alter who he was to suit their goals. No, I would train him to accept himself, flaws and virtues, so that he would rise to be a great warrior. One whose ideals mirrored mine because that was what he wanted, not what I desired.
Anakin offered a weak smile, and I felt him draw a small amount of comfort from my words. I could tell he needed time to process what had been revealed, but that was understandable. He was still young and forming opinions on many people and concepts, so to see someone he considered family – more akin to a brother than a father, even if that was what I was by Mando'ade tradition – revealed to not be what he expected would be a shock to his system. In time, I had faith he'd come to accept this, as I hoped I would, and it seemed Dooku already had.
HK wouldn't care and had remained silent throughout the holocron's reveal. As my eyes shifted to Simvyl, he offered me a quick nod. It was easy to sense his trepidation over the reveal, but overriding that was his sense of duty and honour. It was as if that even though I might be in some way Vitiate's descendant, he knew who I was and what I had done. So long as I didn't force him to do something that ran counter to his ideals and sense of honour, I knew he would remain loyal. I just had to remind myself not to take his presence and loyalty for granted.
My gaze shifted to the newest member of our strange group, Maul. While I knew he considered me a useful acquaintance, our alliance was tenuous at best. The Interface had made clear that bringing him on this mission would, provided we both survived this world, see his trust and loyalty towards me rise, and I wondered if this reveal was one TPTB knew was going to happen, and part of why they wanted Maul here with me.
"I can admit that I am… unsettled by what we have learnt," the Zabrak said cautiously, as if aware that things turned for the worse, he would find himself standing against Dooku and myself. A battle I knew he couldn't win, at least not currently. Particularly as I sat on the Imperial Throne and the Dark Side around us was mine to wield, not anyone else's. "The idea that I might have traded one false Master for another lingers in my thoughts."
"Cam's not a Sith Lord!"
Maul chuckled at Anakin's declaration. "Are you certain of that child? He wields the Force as a Sith would, uses it to achieve his goals, and sits on that throne, declared by the former Emperor of the Empire that once ruled half the known galaxy from this world as his heir. That has all the markings of a Dark Lord of the Sith, if not the next Emperor."
I snarled under my helmet at the suggestion I would be anything like Vitiate had been or as Sidious in the other timeline. Part of me wanted to shoot down Maul's accusation, another part – far smaller but much more insistent – wanted me to punish him for insolence. However, I listened to neither suggestion, instead choosing to remain quiet so he could continue.
"I respect you as a warrior," Maul remarked as he returned his full focus to me, "however, this revelation… It has me questioning our agreement. The idea that you might become a puppet for whatever remains of this ancient Emperor, or try and force us all to submit to your rule, grows in my thoughts. However," he continued before I found time to worry about the chance I might be forced to fight him soon, "I am willing to allow you time to process what you have learnt. It will grant me time to consider my options if you are unable to separate who you are from the new lineage you bear."
I stood from the Throne, an action that caused Maul to tense, though as I moved forward, heading towards the steep steps leading down from the Throne, he relaxed. As I moved down cautiously, aware of the drop between steps, he and the others stepped back to give me room. Once down, I moved towards him, placing Vitiate's holocron in a pouch on my belt and lifting my hands to the clasps for my helmet.
"I'm not Vitiate, nor am I Sidious," I began slowly once the helmet was removed, and I could look him eye to eye. "But it seems that I have a connection to Vitiate. I do need time to handle this. Perhaps a lot of time, if I'm being honest. However, I promise you that my words before will remain true. I would never force you to serve me as Sidious once did. We will be allies or nothing. If I cannot reconcile what I've learnt here, and you cannot accept the changes it might bring on, or the choices I will make in the future, you are free to depart whenever you choose. However, I hope you never feel that desire. If we are to stop Sidious and Plagueis, then we must work together."
As I finished, I extended my arm to him. He stared at my hand for a few moments before looking at my face again. "Acceptable," He said before we clasped arms. "Though I will seek a rematch. Your victory on Mandalore was luck and nothing more."
I chuckled at his words. "Keep telling yourself that," I countered, drawing a smirk that revealed some of his teeth. "Now," I continued as we broke the clasp, "it seems that the holocron has revealed to me how to search beyond this room. Let's see what treasures remain hidden for us to take and use against our enemies."
… …
… …Less than an hour later, I found myself standing inside the Emperor's Sanctum within the Imperial Palace. More accurately, I stood outside what had once been Vitiate's personal meditation chamber. The others were outside, as only the Emperor, or the one who claimed his Throne, could enter the Sanctum. So that Dooku and Maul would have something to do while I was in here, I had opened the Hall of Eternity.
According to what I understood, the knowledge seemingly implanted in my mind by the Throne, that room was something akin to a repository of knowledge that only Vitiate had control over. For any to learn of what lay within, they required his permission to enter. I didn't know how often he had given that during his centuries as Emperor, but I felt that while I was within the Sanctum, it would give Dooku and Maul something to help distract their thoughts from my parentage and keep them out of the way while I entered the Sanctum.
The passage to the Sanctum was far simpler than I had expected. The walls were devoid of any marking, bar the dull, sinister crimson light that pulsed along as illumination. Each pulse travelled from the Chamber of Acknowledgement inward, beckoning me deeper into what had once been Vitiate's sanctuary. Yet while the corridor was devoid of anything indicating the glory of the Empire that I'd seen everywhere else, the Dark Side was strong there. I had felt screams of torment from thousands as I moved down the corridor, their whispers begging for mercy, for me to release them, or to destroy them.
Memories not originally mine knew that those voices were the souls of those who had crafted this Palace; each put to death to hide the secrets of its construction from others before Vitiate had reshaped the building using Sith rituals. I knew nothing of such rituals, nor did I wish to learn them; however, I understood instinctively that they had been used to bind the Dark Side into every pore and stone within the Palace, into the very air that swirled around me. That understanding came, I felt, from my claiming of Vitiate's true Throne – the one in the Dark Council Chambers was a mere shadow of the one I had conquered earlier. As if rudimentary knowledge about the Palace had been implanted into my mind. A thought that only added to the nagging doubt that swirled within me currently.
The doors to the Sanctum were like many of the other important doors I'd encountered on this planet. Carved from obsidian and blackened durasteel with Sith runes alight with malignant energy that threatened any who approached, it had signalled the end of the corridor. The sigil of this Sith Empire, one that carried weight for Vitiate, was engraved into the door, marking the boundary of the Emperor's innermost domain.
For a few moments, the Force embedded within the doors had challenged my presence, questioning how dare I stand at this entrance. The doors had relented when I'd channelled my control of the Force into them and swung open with little complaint, granting me access to the Sanctum.
Beyond the personal resting chamber that Vitiate had used, a room which I had no interest in investigating, and the decorations that covered the walls, marking the glory of Vitiate, three items had stood out with the Sanctum itself. Three items radiated power and called to me to claim them and take my birthright.
The first was a large chair, one that, while designed for an Emperor, was not as imposing as the Throne I had claimed in the Chamber of Acknowledgement nor that in the Dark Council Chambers. However, based on the various controls linked to it, and the large display – now long-dead – that existed nearby suggested it had once allowed Vitiate to oversee everything within his Empire. Later, I intended to gather R2 and, between us, see if we could restore the chair so that I might learn secrets that remained hidden from me. Not just on Dromund Kaas, but throughout Sith Space.
The second was a large tome, one that was as wide as R2, that rested on a pedestal in one corner, commanding my attention. The book was bound in leather from some unknown creature, though when my fingers had hovered over the surface, I had felt the Dark Side of the tome. Not just what was contained within, but from the bindings themselves. There was no text upon the tome's cover, nor Sith glyphs, which made sense as what use would Vitiate need for a tome he had created himself?
The third and final item was the most curious, and from how it seemed to vibrate within the Force, the most dangerous. It appeared at first to be a giant globe, one that reminded me of a Van Der Graaf generator. Yet the energy that swirled and shifted within the globe wasn't electric, but what appeared to be a miniature Force storm. One that reminded me of the storm that still raged above the Palace.
Like with the tome, I had no idea what the globe was, or what powers and mysteries it might contain, and felt myself being called to it. As if the part of me that connected me to the long-dead Emperor needed to interact with it. However, I wasn't doing that, nor opening the tome. While I had claimed the Throne and managed to appear centred in front of the others, my innermost thoughts were a swirling symphony of chaos centred around the revelations I'd learned from Vitiate's holocron. The same holocron that remained in a pouch on my belt.
Even with my thoughts in disarray by the revelation that I was a Child of Vitiate, I'd still entered the Emperor's Sanctum, the room drawing me inward while my mind raged with itself over the revelation of what I had just learned, and how the others might be reacting. All of them had seemed accepting of the revelation currently, but I knew that just like me, they needed time to come to terms with the disclosure of who my father seemingly was.
Of course, I needed time to come to terms with it as well. My head was ablaze with chaotic thoughts, my mind torn in a dozen directions as I tried to comprehend what this meant. I had chosen Revan and Bastila as my ancestors before my rebirth, but somehow I'd also gained the bloodline of an ancient Sith Emperor. Had TPTB been responsible for that, or perhaps the Force had arranged it as a way to counter TPTB inserting me into its domain?
There was much I didn't know, and even as I looked over the Sanctum, my thoughts waged war with each other, trying to make sense of everything I'd just discovered. I had hoped the reveal of new knowledge, or items of power that I could harness, might settle my mind, but each new item I located in the Sanctum did the opposite. That was why I found myself standing before a door leading from the Sanctum. A door that I knew led to Vitiate's private meditation chamber.
The door was simpler than most of the palace; something that was semi-common with the Sanctum. The relative simplicity suggested that Vitiate had been uninterested in vast displays of murals and power in private. Perhaps, he simply saw no need for such displays, as none bar he would step foot here, and thus there was no requirement for the constant reminders for his people to worship his glory.
Once the door slid open, I stepped into the threshold, taking in the room. Triangular in shape, reminiscent of a Sith holocron, the walls appeared blank to the light and scanners of my armour, yet I could sense they weren't. The power of the Dark Side flowed through the small chamber, focusing the might of the Force at the centre, right where a simple raised stone triangle rested.
I understood I needed to meditate on what I'd learnt and work to regain control of the chaos gripping my mind, yet I knew doing so here was dangerous. I was within the innermost domain of what had once belonged to Vitiate. The echo might be silent, but I was certain it wasn't gone, and the moment I attempted to meditate on this issue, it would return.
I had considered waiting until after we left Dromund Kaas, but I had no idea when that would be. I'd also thought about returning to the Vhett and meditating there, close but not within the Palace. Both ideas had been dismissed, however. The former, because I feared that, if I remained unsettled, I might miss something that could be useful in helping me achieve my goals. As for the latter, returning to the ship after the revelation of my parentage risked Dooku and Maul thinking I was weak: Unworthy to be their potential successor or ally, respectively. Thus, I was left with either staying on the Throne or heading into the Sanctum and had chosen the latter. Yet as I stood on the threshold of Vitiate's private meditation chamber, I hesitated.
'Coward! You're not the warrior I desire!"
I shivered, the voice of Bo coming from deep within myself, challenging me.
'I thought you were stronger than this. Are you not worthy of my love?'
This time, it was the voice of Serra that taunted me.
'I thought the Hero of Naboo was made of sterner stuff? Was I wrong to give my heart to you?'
'Why did I let you adopt me? You're a weakling!'
'I believed we had trained you better than this. Perhaps you weren't worth the effort.'
'Another failed successor. Another unworthy to carry my legacy into the future.'
'Fool! How did you ever defeat me? You are weak!'
'Why did I let you adopt me? You're a weakling!'
'I believed we had trained you better than this. Perhaps you weren't worth the effort.'
'Another failed successor. Another unworthy to carry my legacy into the future.'
'Fool! How did you ever defeat me? You are weak!'
The voices came thick and fast, each taking on another persona of someone who mattered to me. Each taunting my weakness, that I was undeserving of the power that lay at my fingertips. That everything I'd ever done had been a lie. A trick pulled over my eyes by someone or something else to make me do as they wished. To make me a toy for their amusement, jumping through hoops like a broken little kath hound.
"Enough!" I snapped, letting my anger flare outwards, driving back the challenges. I was questioning myself, which I didn't deny. However, the voices I heard weren't from friends, family, or lovers. No, they were the Dark Side. It wanted me to step into the room now, before I was ready. It knew that I would fail if I did so and that either I would fall into the insanity that lay at the very bottom of the Dark Side, or that the last lingering echo of Vitiate might somehow consume me and use me to rise again.
Neither of those was going to happen, I promised myself even as I stepped back from the meditation chamber. However, I wasn't going to simply step into it unprepared or improperly attired.
I moved to the centre of the Sanctum, close to the command chair and the station there, and began to slowly remove my armour. Doing so was a slow process, though it was all designed to be easily removed by the wearer. For the few latches that might require an uncomfortable twist, I endured. The pain served to prepare me for the challenge I was about to face.
Each section was placed carefully on the command chair and a small table beside it. Just because I stood in the chambers of a dead Sith Emperor didn't mean I was going to forgo the respect my armour deserved. Particularly not when it had been the words of my people, the resol'nare that had helped guide me back from the edge when I'd claimed the Imperial Throne. I was not a Sith, nor was I a Jedi. I was Mando'ade. I would face this challenge, this test of who I was and what I stood for, head-on as a warrior should.
Once the armour was removed, along with my replacement limb, I stepped towards the mediation chamber again. The only item I held was my lightsaber. The crystals inside it were bound to me, and if I needed them, would offer a focus for me to centre on as I confronted the challenges I had to overcome.
The Dark Side whispered to me again as I stood on the threshold of the small chamber, but I ignored it and marched forward, appearing confident. As I sat on the stone, I placed my hilt in my lap, my hand grasping it as I closed my eyes.
I reached inward, seeking the spark that I had used to recover against the threat I'd faced in claiming the Throne and making it mine. It responded instantly, the power it offered mine alone. It was the very essence of who I was, and I knew I'd need that grounding point against what I had to face.
Opening my mind, I let the Force in. Instantly, the voices that dismissed me, that considered me unworthy of who I was and what I'd done, assaulted my senses. Around me, I could feel the chamber responding, the power of the Dark Side mingling with the final, lingering remnant of Vitiate that permeated his Sanctum, rising to assault me. It sought to break me, to throw my mind into the abyss of its depths and destroy me.
I inhaled deeply, holding on tightly to the spark within. The voices, no matter how truthful or not, were unimportant. I knew what they, what the Dark Side wanted. However, the challenge I faced wasn't from it but from myself. As I pushed the whispers back, I turned my thoughts inward and considered who I was, what I had done, and where I wanted to go.
Every step I'd taken since my rebirth was replayed before me. Each action, no matter how small or insignificant, reviewed with deep focus. For a long time, I had wondered if TPTB had guided my actions. If they had decided for me where I would go and what I would do, using me as a puppet on their strings to toy with an entire galaxy. That sensation had fallen away once I'd removed the Interface as a filter for the Force. Once I'd taken Natural Selection. Yet as I reviewed my past, that fear returned in abundance.
I had chosen to be the descendant of Revan. I had understood the legacy that I was taking up by doing so, and how it would force me to challenge myself. At first, I had foolishly thought I could seek a path of balance. Of a road where I could draw on the Light and Dark Sides of the Force equally and without danger. I had even taught the beginnings of that flawed idea to Serra, a choice that had helped lead to the death of Master Drallig.
Oddly, I felt little remorse about that choice. I understood that the majority of the blame lay with the Force. It had limited what I could do. It had chosen to give Serra and me alternate visions, and as selfish as it was, I was glad Drallig was dead. Not just because it meant I lived, but because I now had Maul as an ally.
'You betrayed me! You used me! I hate you!'
I grimaced at hearing those words from Serra. The fear that I'd lost her because of Drallig continually gnawed at me. Something that had only grown stronger since I'd allied with Maul.
'How could you work with that monster! He killed my Master!
As much as it hurt to do so, I pushed Serra's voice aside and ignored her. That wasn't her talking, but my fears as they were magnified by the Dark Side. I'd heard them each night since the duel with Maul on Mandalore. Only now they were so much louder, so much stronger and painful.
'Everything you have done is because it was what I wished. You are mine.'
The new voice, that of Vitiate, had me metaphorically snarling. An action that made the Sith laugh.
'There is the rage of a Sith. The power you control that I shall consume and use.'
"I am not yours to control!" I snapped back within my mind, Vitiate's presence growing stronger and more prevalent. "I was never yours!"
'You are and always have been,' the voice responded with a chuckle. 'The very means that brought you to this galaxy, that saw you merge with my failure and make it useful, is why you are mine.'
"That wasn't anything to do with you." My voice was vicious; almost primal in the snarl each word carried. "The Powers That Be placed me here because I chose it."
Vitiate laughed.
'Did you? Is this where you hoped to be when you chose to be born with the Force? When you decided to be a child of Revan, was it what you truly wanted, or was it perhaps what those above you wished for?'
I growled at the insinuation, yet I didn't have any retort. Vitiate's words were mine. They were the thoughts that had lingered at the very base of my soul ever since I'd been reborn in this galaxy. Each time I was placed in danger, each time I was thrown into a situation over my head, the thought that I was only where I was because of TPTB had risen from the innermost corners of my thoughts.
Each time I had swatted it back down, not willing to dwell on it. When I'd been faced by the greater krayt dragon, in that moment of fear as it roared at me, I cursed TPTB for making that happen. When I'd discovered that I'd inadvertently saved Darth Plagueis – or at least saved him from revealing Hego Damask was but a mask – I turned the mental air blue with curses aimed at TPTB for making me save the monster that trained Sidious.
When I'd endured months under Vosa's care, when she'd had strips of skin peeled from my body, as I screamed at her in pain as the flesh was removed from my most sensitive areas, a part of me found solace in blaming others. TPTB and the Force were where I was at that time. They were as equally to blame as that deranged bitch was.
On Zonama Sekot, when Fay had been struck down and I'd not know if she would live, I'd sworn at the Force and TPTB, blaming them for that being her fate. That they might be why and how she died, even as I raged at myself for how easily I'd lost control. How willingly I'd drawn on the Dark Side to crush the Vong for hurting someone I cared for.
'Yes, you see it. The truth of the matter. You are not free, nor have you ever been so.'
Vitiate's voice, more infuriating now than it had ever been, returned, revelling in my torment.
'Those who placed you here have used you. They gave you to me, they placed you within a body born of my power.'
I flinched, pulling back in my head as I felt something brush against my metaphorical skin. A touch that was foreign and familiar. A long-lost truth that was being revealed.
'Do not fight it, my Child. You are what I made you. Embrace your destiny and become the instrument of my rebirth.'
Images of what I could be if I let Vitiate in, if I accepted what I was and embraced the supremacy at my fingertips, flashed through my mind. Worlds burning as I devoured the power of my fallen enemies. Legions of warriors kneeling before me, as behind them the Senate and Jedi Temple burnt. My warriors, my armadas sweeping across the galaxy, bringing all under a banner of power and terror from which none would ever rise to challenge me.
The faces of those I cared for appeared, each either bending the knee at my greatness, kissing the very ground I walked on, or offering themselves to my darkest desires, swarmed my thoughts.
'Everything you want, everyone you desire, the power to bend all of the Force to your unconquerable will. It can all be yours. If you just give in. If you accept me and let me guide you.'
Around me, the Dark Side pushed in, pressing down on me, trapping me in the moment. It wasn't challenging me; it wasn't seeking to destroy me or drag me into the abyss. It slid through every pore in my body, granting me a taste of the power it offered, of the control and mastery I could have if I just let it in. If I just surrendered to who it wanted me to be.
"No."
The single word that slipped from me had the Dark Side still. The tendrils of nothingness that flowed through every vein, muscle, sinew, and ligament within me froze.
"I am not you. I am not some puppet for you or anyone to control and use."
The Dark Side pulled back, the smoky vines that had slipped into me as Vitiate spoke to me, as he targeted my fears, recoiling as if stung. Suddenly, it feared me. I, however, wasn't going to just let them go.
My eyes snapped open, and I found myself surrounded by a storm. One identical to what raged outside the Palace. Unlike with the Throne, I wasn't standing in the eye of that storm. No, I was part of it. Veins of energy threaded from the storm into me; the very essence of the Dark Side seeping into me while I questioned my existence.
Before me, the storm shifted, becoming the face of one I had already learnt to despise. "You cannot escape your destiny, my Child," the storm-forged Vitiate roared, lightning dancing in its maw. "You have followed, just as I wished, the same path to power as I did. You hunger for more as I did. You want control over the galaxy as I once had." The face moved closer, smiling with malignant intent. "To get all you desire and more, give in, Cameron. Accept that you were never anything more than a slave to others. To me. That this was and is your purpose."
The storm shifted. The tendrils that had surged into me now hardened, trapping me in place as Vitiate moved closer. The storm that was his face swirled around, reforming until he stood before me. The Sith Emperor towered over me as I was dragged to my knees by the tendrils, and he reached out a hand, moving it towards my head.
"Embrace your destiny, my Child, and let me guide you forward as I have done before," Vitiate continued as his long, bony fingers reached for my skull. "Surrender to the truth."
I closed my eyes, finding myself unable, or perhaps unwilling, to struggle against the chains of the storm that held me still. I had been used. I couldn't deny it. TPTB, the Jedi, Vitiate. Everything I had done was never my choice. I was just the tool of others to serve their purpose. This is all I had been and all I'd ever be, I realised as I lowered my head. I had never been the next coming of Revan or the saviour of the galaxy. I had only ever been a pawn in a game played by those far more powerful than I could ever be.
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"No."
While my head had been bowed for a few moments, my mind had retreated inward. The spark within me had flared, filling my thoughts with memories. Of those I'd met in this life, of those whose fates I knew I'd changed, of those I'd saved, of those I'd killed, and of others I still had to encounter.
I had saved Dooku from becoming a pawn of Sidious, and I had freed Maul from the constraints placed upon him by the same monster. While Shmi had still died, she had done so free from the terrors of Tatooine, finding love and having another child in her freedom. Anakin had been spared more of the horrors of being a slave, instead allowed to enjoy for a few years at least, some time as nothing more than a child. Padmé and her people had been freed by more than luck or the Will of the Force and were working to ensure what happened to them never occurred again.
The Bando Gora were gone, their organisation shattered in the process of my liberation from them. The Sekotans were somewhere far from the Republic, Zonama keeping them safe from the threat of the Vong. The Shadda-Bi-Borans had survived the death of their world, enduring on a half-dozen other worlds across the galaxy. Thanks to my presence, Fay was working to rediscover Typhon. The insanity of the New Mandalorians had been squashed, while Death Watch was an organisation with only years left to exist. The Mando'ade, while not united, were on the cusp of gathering behind a common cause; one I would bring forth.
"I am not a tool," I growled as I lifted my head, locking eyes with the storm-forged Vitiate. "For you or anyone else. I might share a connection to you, as I do to Revan, but I am not either of you. I am me! My choices are mine, and mine alone." Vitiate's smile, one filled with the expectation of destroying my mind and claiming my body, faltered as I slowly stood; the tendrils of the Force that held me down, straining as I did so. "My path is one of battle, of conquest and domination. However, unlike you, I don't do so for personal glory or a need to rule over others. I do it for a greater good."
As I snarled at this representation of one half of my lineage, I returned to my feet and the tendrils that had held me down, that had chained me in submission to Vitiate's legacy, or that of Revan or anyone or anything else, shattered. I stepped towards Vitiate, the storm that formed him and swirled around us, parting as I stalked forward. "I acknowledge that I have a link to you, but that has no bearing on my actions, nor will it influence my thoughts going forward," I snarled as he backpedalled, trying to seek refuge in the storm that engulfed us. "My path is mine and mine alone to walk. Not yours, not Revan's, not anyone else's. I am not the Chosen One, nor a reborn Sith'ari. I am Cameron Shan!" I snapped my hand, lifting, reaching for his face. "And you," I continued as my hand closed over his skull, crushing the energy that formed his face, absorbing that power into me, "are nothing!"
My eyes snapped open, and I looked around, trying to work out where I was. The Dark Side flowed around me; the air heavy with its presence. However, I didn't fear it, nor did I fear what my connection to Vitiate meant as I realised I was back in the meditation chamber. I was not his puppet. I was not anyone's toy, tool, or plaything. I, and I alone, chose my actions.
I slumped as that understanding flowed through me, shifting outwards to take control of the Force that waited for my command. It was ready to bend to my will and desires and no one else's.
My body was tired, my hair stuck to my head, and my body was slick with sweat. Every muscle within me screamed from exhaustion, every fibre of me demanding I rest. My body screamed that I seek a moment's peace to recover from what I'd endured. Yet, for all the physical fatigue I was enduring, my mind was alive and vibrant.
A drained but amused chuckle slipped from my lips as I looked around the chamber, feeling the Dark Side awaiting my command. It was mine now. The final last vestige of Vitiate was gone; devoured and repurposed by my might. All that remained here was me, the power of this Palace, of this world, mine to claim if I so wanted.
I could feel the offer resting there in the Force. The willing submission of the Dark Side to my every whim. It stood ready to help me reshape not just Dromund Kaas, but the galaxy if I commanded it. I leaned back, a wide, content smile spreading over my face as I basked in my glory and savoured the moment.
I was free: Finally, and truly free of any commitment I had to anyone or any higher power. My choices were mine and mine alone, and through them and those who flocked to my banner, I would reshape the galaxy. Not to reforge failed Sith Empires, or engulf the ruins of the failed Republic in eternal darkness. No, I would shatter everything so that the weight of the past, of the failings of that which had been, could be washed away and consigned to the garbage piles of history.
Many would resist through words and actions. They would fear the loss of the only system they had ever known, the removal of the rules that had kept them in power and influence when they had no right to it. Others would stand against me because they didn't know any better; tricked by masters whose chains they didn't understand, they wore. I would free them from that delusion and bring them into the light of the truth.
The Jedi would fight me. Every one of them potentially. I would be altering what they considered the natural order. They would claim I was disrupting the Will of the Force. Fools and charlatans, the lot of them. No higher power, no energy field that any of them prescribed intelligence to, pulled our strings or guided our actions. There was no grand design that would bring balance and unity to the galaxy. No, if one wanted structure and stability, they had to not just show others that it was there to take, but destroy anything or anyone that stood in their way.
I shifted my body, intending to stand. It protested, weary from the ordeal I'd just endured, yet it obeyed, and I rose slowly to my feet. As I walked from the chamber, I could feel Dooku, Anakin, and to a lesser extent, Maul probing my mind through our bonds, seeking answers for what had happened. I sent a wave of assurance to them, the Force carrying it without challenge.
Outside, I knew the storm had finally passed. The rampant energy had found its leash, passed to me from Vitiate. That failed Sith, who'd watched his Empire fall as he played whatever games he thought would serve him, no longer mattered. He was nothing more than a footnote in history from which I could learn to avoid his mistakes.
Every ounce of knowledge he had stored away in this Palace and the Imperial Citadel would be mine. Every archaic ritual, manuscript, holocron, and recording would be used to ensure that as I rose to bring sanity to the galaxy, I didn't repeat his failures.
The galaxy was my oyster, and I intended to crack it open and claim the pearl inside.
… …
… …The evening of the day after my ordeal in the Imperial Palace, and after coming to terms with what I'd learnt, I found myself back in the Dark Council Chambers inside the Imperial Citadel. It turned out that the meditation I'd endured to find my centre and determine my path forward hadn't just been taxing, it had also taken a lot longer than I'd realised.
When I'd come out of my trance, the day was almost over, and when I reconnected to my armour, Dooku had asked politely if I was well; no direct mention of what I was sure he'd sensed me enduring ever arose from my former Master. Obviously, I'd still feel the fallout for a time, but I assured him that I was on the path to accepting what and who I was. He had thankfully dropped the matter there, allowing me time to explore the Inner Sanctum further.
While I had come to terms with who I was, I knew that I still needed time to fully recover from the ordeal of facing my demons and overcoming them in a deep Force meditation. I also understood that having done so in a place so thoroughly seeped in the Dark Side might've been a mistake. However, I had done so and would have to live with it going forward, just as I now accepted who I was, who my ancestors were, and that I had no one and nothing to blame for my failures, or suspect was behind choices that I'd made that, with hindsight, had been silly at best, and downright stupid at worst. I was free of those terrors and excuses and had become a changed man. Now, I was using the time in the Sanctum to slowly recover from what I'd put myself through.
The tome remained a mystery, though, thanks to the basic translation software Maul and R2 had created, I could get enough details from the first few pages of it to determine it was some sort of diary. Calling it a diary was intentionally insulting, as I knew it was far more than that. However, referring to it as such had been a test; one designed to lure out anything of Vitiate.
Even after I'd claimed the Throne and then burnt the doubts of who I was and what influence the Force, TPTB, and my ancestors had over my actions from my thoughts, there remained a small chance that something of Vitiate remained. He'd not responded to my open taunting of his tome, not even with the barest of shifts in the Force that I'd been waiting to feel. That meant that he was gone for good, though I'd remain wary until we left the planet.
The first few pages I'd examined from the tome and the small amount that had been deciphered by the translation software – something that had triggered the creation of a Language Skill for the Sith tongue – was a journal Vitiate had kept. The initial pages seemingly spoke of events when he became ruler of a world within a previous Sith Empire. That had to be the empire of Naga Sadow, but the name of the world wasn't one the software could translate, nor on any galactic record we had access to.
I'd reached out to R2 on the Vhett – the storm over the palace having dissipated once I emerged from my meditation – to search the ship's databanks for a reference to the world, but he'd come up short. It was probable that there would be other mentions of it in the files we'd gathered so far, or might find later, that would confirm where Vitiate had been born and ruled, but it felt like an unimportant detail. That said, the tome was now inside my Inventory as it was not a book I would allow anyone else to access. The same was true of Vitiate's holocron, though it was harder to make that disappear, as the others had seen it when it had activated.
A part of me chuckled with amusement at the idea of activating Vitiate and Malgus' holocrons at the same time. However, I was uncertain if I would do such a thing, nor if I would bother to speak with Malgus' Gatekeeper about what he knew of Vitiate's Voices. I accepted that Vitiate had some part in creating me, but he had no influence over the man I was. Nor would he or others ever do so again.
The glowing sphere remained a complete mystery. The storm inside it still raged, and I felt a pull towards it. Not one linked to Vitiate but centred around the Dark Side. However, I had yet to interact with it as I understood that I needed time to recover from recent revelations before I dove into the Dark Side again. The same wasn't true of the command chair, which was the third part of the main Sanctum that interested me.
I'd had to summon R2 to help me with accessing and then downloading the files in the command chair. While I could control the interface, the sheer volume of text, tomes, scrolls, events, people, and everything else Vitiate had been able to draw upon was scary. I suspected much of the knowledge accessible through the chair was the same as what we'd already gained from the Citadel and the private chambers of the various Spheres of Influence, but much of it likely wasn't. There was also the fact that Vitiate's command chair allowed him to circumvent any security measures on any file. A fact I'd confirmed when I'd accessed the special projects titled Silencer, Ascendant Spear, and Sun Razer.
The former was for a superweapon designed for a modified Harrower-class dreadnought. Every report of its use showed it to be a fleet-killer weapon, given the speed of firing and power the cannon unleashed. That alone had the potential to be game-changing in theory. What I needed was someone far smarter than me – probably many people if I was being honest – and trustworthy enough to go over the project. I needed to learn if the Silencer would still be as effective against modern starships and, if not, how it could be improved to be something close to the original game-changer the various reports suggested it had been. Well, at least until the Eternal Fleet of the Eternal Empire had shattered the Sith and Republic fleets.
The Sith Empire had built more Silencer superweapons after the fall of the Eternal Empire and then the Eternal Alliance, but each time they were deployed, the Republic had sought them out and destroyed them at all costs. An understandable choice, and with the might of their shipyards, the Republic had slowly ground the Empire's fleets and superweapons into dust until nothing remained of the Silencer project and those like it but the records we'd discovered.
On the surface, the Ascendent Spear didn't appear to be anything worthy of being classed as a super weapon. It was a destroyer outfitted with more weaponry and a 0.5-rated hyperdrive. That simply made it incredibly fast – even by today's standards – while outgunning ships in its class. However, what made the project stand out was the fact that the ship could be commanded via a neural net by someone sufficiently strong in the Force with a disciplined mind. Implants were needed in the mind of the Force user, and there were dangers of those, but the idea of a warship with the response time of Raven was incredible. Sadly, much of the research on the project wasn't accessible even from Vitiate's command chair. The knowledge had been maintained on the single station, creating the Ascendent Spear and its sister vessels. That station, ironically, the Sun Razer, was destroyed by the Jedi, and the more critical elements regarding the neural link between the ship and the Force user were lost.
The Sun Razer project had been an attempt to mimic the power of the Star Forge. The station, a seemingly unwise creation, had been built around the star of the Vesla system. That star had the right characteristics, it seemed, but the station, while active, had been able to generate power seemingly equivalent to the Star Forge. An achievement worthy of remembrance, and the station had been the place where most of the Empire's secret projects and superweapons had been crafted. Not least, as it meant that instead of taking years or decades to build those ships and weapons, they could be crafted in weeks or months. Which might explain why the Republic had destroyed it. Rather ironically, by a team led by someone named Theron Shan.
It seemed Revan's line was intertwined heavily with Vitiate's Empire, which, in some odd way, made the fact that I shared a connection with both oddly poetic. That it would be someone of Revan's line, but with a touch of Vitiate within them, that became the first to claim the Throne in the Imperial Palace just felt right. Though perhaps that was just the sense of certainty I'd been experiencing since my meditation, influencing me to find amusement in the insanity that seemed to define how I'd come to be. It could also speak to why I now stood at the entrance to the Emperor's Chamber in the Imperial Citadel.
"Observation: You seem remarkably at ease for a meatbag after learning of your connection to Vitiate, Master. Aside: I am uncertain how The Builder would feel about this."
I turned and looked at HK, who stood a few steps behind me, keeping a close watch on me. Something he'd done ever since I'd emerged from the Inner Sanctum yesterday. Not, he claimed, because he feared I would become the monster that Vitiate had been – I suspected that he wouldn't mind if I became a true Sith and used him for his primary purpose – but because I was the last tie to his Builder, Revan, in this galaxy. If I didn't know better, I'd swear he had some sense of loyalty to me because of my bloodline, one that might have grown stronger since the truth of my lineage had been discovered.
"As I said yesterday, and then thrice today, I'm fine. As in, I'm at peace with the truth. There's nothing I can do to change the past, only prepare to alter the future." Anakin and Simvyl had all asked me repeatedly if I was doing well, while Dooku had inquired about my well-being without speaking. Each time they accepted my answer that I was well, but I had felt their gazes, and in Dooku's case, his force presence, lingering upon me regardless.
If I were the monster Vitiate claimed I was meant to be, the one he had wanted me to become, I'd have punished them for such distrust and disloyalty. I hadn't because I wasn't a fiend. I knew they were simply concerned about me as family, as that was what they were.
"Analysis: A remarkably efficient approach, Master. One that is uncommon in many meatbags. Addendum: Hardly a surprise given their inherent weakness."
I ignored HK's commentary for the moment, instead choosing to move closer to the entrance to the Emperor's Chamber. During my time going through the data available through the command chair, I had learnt that Vitiate had kept something in this chamber that I now wanted. Something linked to my ancestry that could help me reshape the galaxy in the way I wished, so long as it hadn't been removed by any later Emperor or Empress.
Most had ruled from Korriban, which had been the ceremonial capital of the Empire as soon as it was retaken. However, Vitiate had ensured that the device I was after was kept on Dromund Kaas, close at hand so that as he broke Revan – something he seemingly did and didn't do, as odd as that sounded – he could taunt the former Jedi and Sith over his failure.
Once I was at the massive doors, I paused. The statues that stood on either side of the doors remained unmoving, but I swore I could feel their gaze upon me. They questioned why I was standing here and what right I had to think I could pass beyond them. With a smirk, I reached out into the Force and extended my power outward.
The Emperor's chair behind me, dominating over the Dark Council Chamber as it did, had already been claimed. It had yielded to me far more easily than I had expected, suggesting the choice to leave it until after exploring the Imperial Palace had been the correct one. Taking the Throne there, and then coming to terms with my past and not allowing it to shape my future, had seen my control over the Dark Side swell. Something that, when I had approached the chair behind me, had made it easy to overcome the aura it generated. One that was designed to test any who dared sit upon it.
I did wonder if those who came after Vitiate, those later figures who tried to rule the Empire, had claimed the chair behind me, or if they had kept their seat on Korriban, fearful of being unworthy of having the power to overcome what lingered of Vitiate on Dromund Kaas. I had no such fear, not now that I had consumed the last echoes of him that had survived for millennia. His will was gone, and his power mine to use to reshape the galaxy.
Dooku and Maul were currently within the chamber of the Sphere of Civil Administration, Anakin accompanying them. I had unlocked the inner doors after claiming the Emperor's throne in the Dark Council Chamber and then asked them to investigate what lay deeper within that chamber. The chamber for the Sphere of Scientific Advancement was one we would explore together later as Dooku, Maul, and I agreed that there were likely things in there that would require a coordinated effort to handle. With the trio occupied there, and Simvyl remaining with R2 to oversee the Vhett and the other ships in the Citadel's hangar, we were using it as a base of operations, which left me free to enter the Emperor's Chambers.
My hand touched the door, and I felt the Force flow through it and me. There was a moment when the energy used in the construction of the door, one that was drenched in the power of the Dark Side, tried to fight back. However, it yielded quickly, accepting that I was its master.
I watched as from my hand, lines of energy, glowing an almost deranged violet, slid outwards, pushing into every rune and glyph the ancient Sith had carved into the blackened durasteel and obsidian used in its construction. A smile crept onto my face as I felt my control over the door grow with each tendril that surged through the doors, until eventually, the entire surface glowed with the power I commanded.
"Observation: I admit that I am curious as to how this door and others were crafted, Master. Theory: My sensors cannot fully understand what keeps happening, but I accept that the Sith somehow made these materials far stronger than they should be. Speculation: Perhaps there is something in the vast memory banks that we have copied that contains the information."
"Not happy with your phrik casing?" I asked even as I felt the power I'd pushed into the doors continue outwards, slipping into the mechanisms that controlled them.
"Qualification: I am most pleased with my new casing, Master. The metal used ensures I am far harder to damage and thus can serve you more effectively in whatever combat role you wish for me to perform. I am merely… curious if there is a way to further enhance my capacity for the extermination of unworthy meatbags."
I chuckled, amused as always at how everything for HK came down to a combination of serving me and finding more efficient ways to kill those I wanted gone. "Perhaps there will be," I replied as I felt and then heard the locks of the great doors grind and hiss; the servos activating for the first time in several thousand years. "However, the use of such crafting would leave you unable to approach any Force user. Even a new Padawan would be able to sense the malignant power of the Dark Side in these runes."
"Affirmative: Yes, that would lower my efficiency with covert operations near Jedi, Master. Amendment: It would, however, ensure that if I were forced to engage one at closer than optimal range without sufficient time to prepare the battlefield, the likelihood of my survival against the most dangerous Jedi would increase significantly. Musing: Perhaps in those same databanks, there are methods to hide such manipulations of the Force from the senses of all but those dedicated to locating them?"
"I'm sure there'll be something in all those files you can use to make yourself more dangerous," I commented as the doors slowly parted, the stale air beyond seeping into the Chamber. My nose wrinkled at the smell, and then at the dry, metallic taste of the air as it reached my tongue.
Before the doors swung open fully, I stepped forward, moving as if I owned the place. In a way, I did. HK's metallic steps followed behind, his optical sensors alert and his blaster ready to defend me if needed. However, I knew that if there was any challenge between here and the Emperor's chamber proper, it would be one only I could overcome. Not because I could wield the Force, but because, as far as this world and the Dark Side that propagated every particle of the planet was concerned, I was the new Emperor.
The light from my helmet and HK's head provided brighter illumination than the corridor would normally have. The purple light that had spread from when I'd first touched the doors slithered down the walls, moving like water cascading cliffs or rivers flowing to a deep and massive ocean. A metaphor, perhaps, for what the Force was.
The natural light of the corridor would, no doubt, add a foreboding sense of entrapment to any who entered here. Those summoned to a private audience with the Emperor, or perhaps one of these Voices, he used to control his domain. Yet I felt no such sense of a growing menace. Instead, I felt as if the light was guiding me onward, offering itself to my command as I claimed what was mine by the right of conquest as well as birth. Vitiate was, within how the Force sensed such things, my father and I accepted that now. However, he was not me, and I was not him. My path would not be one of domination and control from the shadows. Nor manipulation on a grand scale that had much of the galaxy dancing to my tune without them knowing.
Now, if I could one day influence events that affected the denizens of the galaxy, from the most despicable Weequay or unworthy Trandoshan up to those trained to use the Force for power, then I wouldn't complain. So long as I didn't grow bored of such authority and still had something worthy of being a challenge, then I would be happy. I was a warrior, and I had accepted over the last two years that I was meant to lead from the front and battle against worthwhile opponents, not cower in secret to either manipulate others into doing my bidding or carry out experiments on the deeper mysteries of the Force.
Amusingly, the walls of the corridor displayed scenes of battles. Events where Vitiate seemed to be claiming that he had fought decisively in places, given the recurring appearance of his image in each mural we passed. Another attempt to manipulate and influence those called before him of his power and majesty; another example of him lifting himself above everyone else to stand alone as the greatest and most powerful Sith to ever live. A lie, but one that had served him well during his centuries-long reign.
Whispers within the Force offered to help me. They gifted me sweet nothings that led not to promised power, but to despair and insanity. I drove them back with my will, shattering their pathetic attempts at manipulation of my mind. I was not some fool summoned before the Emperor or his Voices. I was the Master of the Force within these walls.
At a few points as we moved, I glanced at the walls, the Force revealing the hidden defence mechanisms that were designed to unleash hell on any invader of this domain. None activated, if they even could after so many years of silence. That was, honestly, a disappointment. I would have enjoyed the momentary challenge of whatever defences Vitiate had crafted into this corridor; whatever machinations of the Force had gone into the machines to make them more dangerous to one able to command the Force like I could.
Perhaps if I had entered here before claiming the Throne at the Imperial Palace, I would've been challenged properly. I might even have fallen to the derangements the murmurs hid behind their sweet words. However, I hadn't. I had understood that I wasn't ready to enter here before, even if at the time I hadn't realised why that was. As such, we arrived at the true entrance to the Emperor's Chamber unchallenged.
There were no doors this time, only an archway onto which Sith runes were etched. I still didn't truly understand what they meant, though I could sense their intent. A warning that I was stepping into the presence of Vitiate and that I was nothing compared to him. I scoffed openly at the vile aura of the archway, not cowed or concerned by it. Vitiate was gone, the last lingering remnant crushed beneath my metaphorical heel, and what lay beyond was mine to take and use as I saw fit.
I stepped into the Chamber, surveying the domain. The room was far smaller than the Dark Council Chamber or the Chamber of Acknowledgement, yet the design was similar. We stepped onto a large floor, one of polished metal and stood before an empty throne. I could sense the Dark Side moving around me, trying to confound and intimidate me, but I only chuckled in response. Pushing my presence outward, I crushed the attempted threat and assumed control of the room, banishing any remnant of any former Emperor, be that Vitiate or the fools who came after him.
The walls were again covered in murals, these depicting great fleets of Sith warships destroying anything that stood against them. Another display of the Emperor's might. Another sign that perhaps Vitiate had some core insecurity that required him to place himself at the centre of all Sith culture. As if he could not survive without their worship.
The ceiling was far above us, disappearing into the dark, before I lifted my head and saw what lay overhead. The roof formed a dome, oddly reminding me of the shape of the Senate building on Coruscant or the dome of a cathedral. There was nothing there of importance, and my gaze returned to what lay before me.
Behind the throne, a staircase rose, leading upwards to the only other exit from the chamber. That was where I knew I had to go; however, before I did, I moved to the throne, the Dark Side acquiescing to my power as I ran a finger along one armrest. "He never sat here," I whispered, my voice carrying around the chamber. A smirk came to my face as I understood why. The room was designed so that the acoustics of whoever sat or stood there dominated everything, making it seem like the Emperor's voice was everywhere all at once.
I moved to the stairs, climbing them slowly, mindful of both the potential for danger or traps that lay ahead of me and watchful of how the Force shifted with each step I took. I was in command here, my power reigned, yet I wasn't foolish enough to think I was immune to threats or aware of everything that could be done with the Dark Side.
At the top of the stairs, the door slid open, the ancient mechanism perhaps recognising me, or merely opening as it was assumed no one but the Emperor's Voice would ever seek passage beyond the chamber. Inside, I emerged into an oddly blank room. All that was present was a large table, one that, when I moved closer, refused to engage.
My fingers ran along the edges, noting the dust that had built up on them. An unusual thing so far in the more important places on Dromund Kaas, and something that suggested somewhere there was damage to the Citadel, one that allowed external air into this section of the complex.
"Observation: This appears to be some sort of command table, Master. One used to interact with other elements of the Empire and direct them according to the Emperor's orders."
"I suspect Vitiate didn't place too much importance on that," I replied as I lifted my fingers from the table. "His focus, from what little I've learnt about him so far, suggests he preferred to be hands-off and focus on whatever it was that dominated his attention. The running of the Empire was likely left to the Dark Council unless they did something he disapproved of."
"Evaluation: Yes, that does seem probable, Master. However, these Voices of his might have acted in his stead. Directing the might of the Empire without his direct control."
I grunted. "Possible." What we knew about an Emperor's Voice was limited. I understood that they had some part of his essence imparted into them; that much had become clear from what the Gatekeeper of Vitiate's holocron had said and the sensations that seemed to provide hints of answers that I possessed after claiming his Throne in the Palace.
The others had found mentions in what they'd so far examined that suggested a Voice who spoke for the Emperor to the Dark Council. There had clearly been multiple Voices during Vitiate's reign; however, why he had removed or changed them wasn't clear. They had to serve more purpose than simply speaking for the Emperor while he was otherwise occupied, but no hint of what else they did existed in the records we'd examined.
There were three doors leading from this central space, somewhere I knew that Vitiate could speak with his Voice in privacy. While I was semi-curious about what lay beyond the other doors, I was drawn to one in particular. The door to my right was the one that led to the object that I wanted to find, according to Vitiate's records.
One of the later Emperors or Empresses might have found and moved the object. However, as I approached the door, I felt a gentle resonance within the Force. Something beyond was calling out to me. As if it held a link to my position as a Child of Vitiate. I paused and closed my eyes as I focused on the resonance, a smirk coming to my face as I caught the ancient, twisted power of the Dark Side from beyond the door. Something far older than this fallen Sith Empire awaited me there.
A wave of my hand, accompanied by taking control of the Force that slithered through the door, had it slide open. Stepping forward, I emerged into a darkened room. One that reminded me of the vault inside the Sphere of Military Command. Unlike that vault, this storage room was generally empty. A few items on random shelves, none of which appeared to be of interest, two… no three holocrons rested around the room, yet none of them held my focus. Not like the large object that had once sat on a shelf but had since grown to seemingly consume the shelf and several more nearby, judging by how they were deformed around its surface.
"Commentary: It appears that the object has grown since it was placed there, Master, though I am unsure of how such a thing could be achieved."
"The Force, HK," I said as I moved closer to the roughly spherical object. "It grows because it can harness the Force, matter, and energy to feed itself. In a place such as this, with the Dark Side like a lingering storm just waiting to rise again, it's spent over three millennia slowly gorging on that power, growing from something that had once fit on a shelf to what we see before us."
The device was about ten metres across, and as I moved closer, it seemed to vibrate within the Force, sensing my approach and the connection that I shared with it. Lifting a hand, I placed it lightly on the surface. My eyes closed, and I smiled as I felt the power that lay within this creation, and the seemingly infinite potential for more it possessed.
Without removing my hand from the device, I used Observe on it. My smile grew, and I struggled not to start laughing in delight at the insanity of what I'd just found. Compared to everything we'd found on Dromund Kaas so far, this alone was potentially worth all that and more.
I turned to HK, his optical sensors brightening as he saw the slightly mad grin I wore. "Tell me, HK, do you recall the Star Forge?"
"Answer: Yes, Master, I remember the Rakatan creation the Builder used to…" I watched, fighting back the urge to chuckle as HK froze. I swore I could hear the processors and gears in his mind turning as he put together what I was hinting at. "Query: Is this… is this a fragment of that, Master?"
"One Revan took from the Forge before Malak betrayed him," I answered, knowing this from what Observe had told me. "He referred to it as the Infinite Engine."
… …
This story is cross-posted on Fanfiction.net, Archive of Our Own, and Royal Road.
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