LOTF: Collision/Chapter 1

Decien had not missed Coruscant. The magnificent planet was no doubt every bit the pride of the Empire that it had been during the time of the Republic, but it was in fact for that very reason he resented the planet. The planet was host to over one trillion beings: workers, criminals, Senators, soldiers, young, old, human, alien, nearly all of whom were utterly insignificant next to Decien. Indeed, from Decien's perspective, he had not visited the capitol of the Empire. He had taken a journey into the greatest and most vile hive of wretched insects the Galaxy could produce, entirely against his will. They buzzed about in their airspeeders, crawled around on the surface of the planet, infected the air with the aromas of their 'luxurious' foods and personal scents, and excreted their buildings high into the sky of the planet, the nest nearly bursting at the seams.

Watching all of Coruscant, controlling all of it, was the Galactic Empire. The Imperial banner flew over the grandest points of the hive: the Senate Building, the Imperial Center for Military Operations, and, after generations of waiting, at last the Jedi Temple, now better known as the Imperial Palace. On this evening, the Palace stood as grand as ever, an eternal reminder that it was the Sith who held the true power; a reminder that peace was a lie and that the weak were to be destroyed by the strong. Walking down the wide, dark halls, Decien basked in the absence of the presence of the Jedi. There were no more tapestries or carvings to pass down their history. The great statues had been toppled and long since removed. No one stirred in most of the hallways save for the occasional patrolling guards, bringing a grand ambient silence to the temple. Best of all, so powerful had the presence of the Dark Side become in the absence of the Palace's old inhabitants that it was now the only thing Decien could feel in the place, a magnificent centerpoint of power.

At last, Decien found himself standing before the final door separating him from his master. His green eyes found themselves on the golden entrance, his face reflecting off the large insignia of the Empire that had been emblazoned onto it. He no longer wore the simple red and white robes he had adorned before the Binding of Ganner Slarwalker, but had instead donned true armor. It was mostly alternative between black and a deep crimson lining the protective plates, but higher pieces, mostly around the shoulder and neck pads, were still lined with white. The armor obscured all but Decien's face, for he had not procured nor seen a need for a mask to accompany it. His face bore the circular Sith runes that he had always known, but otherwise was fortunately unscarred from his recent injuries. A less obvious, secondary purpose of the armor was that it obscured the mechanical components now lining his spine, without which he was only able to move through sheer will and the Force. Reflecting upon the events that had transpired on Facility 406-P, the escape of his captives and his own defeat, Decien saw the slightest hint of insecurity, of fear, in his eyes. Was it even real, or was it just in his head? If it were merely in his head, wouldn't that be indicative of its existence? Decien abandoned the line of thought altogether, took a deep breath, and steeled himself to face the Emperor. He pushed against the vast doors, and they gave way to the Emperor's chamber.

The room was surprisingly compact, comprised of nothing more than it needed: At the end, the throne, large and carved out of the stone of Korriban, as though even it had been swallowed by the dark side; and a few windows to the right of the throne, through which the scarlet light of the setting sun still passed, providing the room with its only illumination. Five royal guards were lined up on either side, standing absolutely motionless at attention with their pikes always at the ready, reflecting the sunlight on their polished blades. Nudging slightly on their minds, Decien felt not even the slightest hint of fear or hesitance, but simply one of duty. Briefly, he pushed ever so slightly more on each mind, trying to find a more hidden weakness or insecurity, but he found none, and was satisfied.

"Decien." His concentration was broken as the Emperor spoke his name, sounding more like an order than a welcome. He looked back to the Emperor, clad in his black robes as always, his eyes just outside his view. Decien lowered his head as he bowed. "My lord."

"On your way here, word reached me of Ravon Sumad's death. Is this true?"

Reflexively, Decien looked up again at the Emperor in surprise. He shouldn't have known that. All the witnesses to Ganner's escape, which Sumad had died in, had been killed. Remembering his place, Decien lowered his head again. "Yes, my lord. The Binding proved to be even more dangerous than expected."

"A shame. The man had potential; if we are fortunate, we shall see it carried on in his son who has of late become a naval progidy." The Emperor lamented, though only half-heartedly, before continuing. "How did you find the ritual?"

Though what Decien was about to say was true, he still felt anxious, for he was about to lie through his teeth to his master, and, in another way, he was lying to the Emperor through his omission of the rest of the truth- of the rebirth of Ganner Slarwalker, of his discovery of the Prophecy of Three and the entity known as Ghenste. Calming himself as much he could, he prepared to speak once more.

"As you know, the journals we found on Umbara referenced more than just Ganner Slarwalker. In particular, Arek Saris mentioned Hans Cerrano, who had been missing for years until the recent Bothawui attacks, and Arron Radion, a rebel whose only other record is from those same attacks. With the assistance of former agent Dakens, I was able to set up a near-universal monitoring system to search for them, and eventually, we found them in a facility on Quesh. A facility, that, as it so happens, was the location of Ganner Slarwalker's Master, Sen Qorbin."

On Facility 406-P, Qorbin had revealed to Decien that the two of them had in fact met prior on Umbara, where Qorbin had been captured in the first place. However, Decien had no memory of that meeting, and had concluded that his mind had been wiped previously by the Emperor. It was that conclusion which led to Decien's anxiety and his dishonesty, for he needed to pretend to be clueless in order to safely dig deeper.

"I know the facility's purpose, and its history." The Emperor interjected, as though challenging Decien. "Demand to know more. Reveal your deception to me." He silently goaded Decien. Decien would not give himself away so easily.

"From there, we were able to follow the criminals until they arrived at Dathomir," Decien explained, purposely omitting any mention of Carlac or Ganner's journal, "At which point we discovered their association with Yula Ardinn, a Jedi Master presumed dead on the same mission that introduced Ganner to the Shadow Assassins, as well as Masters Tyrral Thraxton and Bail Malakath. It was on Dathomir that Yula Ardinn learned the ritual through the spirit of the Nightsister Talzin, who was also spoken of in Saris' journals. Not long after, my forces entered the system and captured her. I drained the information from her mind."

Again, another hollow truth. Talzin's spirit had indeed remained on Dathomir and given instruction to Yula, but another, much more unusual event had also transpired. Decien and Yula had both met and communicated with a second, more powerful Nightsister spirit named Ghenste. Ghenste had been the one to teach Yula the ritual, dubbing her the last Keeper of the Binding. She had told him that through him the prophecy of three would come to pass, which would result in the downfall of an ancient evil.

"What did you learn?"

"Aside from the Binding, little that we can use. The Brotherhood briefly captured her after the duel Saris described on Dantooine, but she was taken by Talzin. The Binding was performed on her, but those afflicted by it tend to lose their memories of that time. Her next memories are on Dantooine once more, with the man spoken of earlier, the father of Ganner Slarwalker. Ganner was dead by then, and she left shortly after, following a dream in which two heroes challenged a great evil. She met Ranulph Darkhitch, and the two presumed themselves to be the figures she had foreseen, which led to the events of Quesh and so forth."

The Emperor was silent for a moment, taking in the information given to him and extracting everything out of it that he could. Decien remained kneeling in the utmost silence, the Imperial Guards never once even shifting throughout the exchange of silence. He prepared himself for what he believed to be the next line of interrogation — the fate of Sumad.

The Emperor opened his mouth to speak once more. "You understand how to successfully perform the Binding?"

Was that it? "Yes." Barak hesitantly answered.

"Then there is no more time to spare. You are needed elsewhere."

Though this abandonment of debriefing was really a good thing for Decien, he did not even initially comprehend it as such, instead becoming entangled in confusion. However, before he could question the Emperor's words, he continued, and Decien knew his unspoken queries would be answered.

"Agent Cyana Bastra awaits you at coordinates I have transmitted to your ship, along with the details of your mission. Leave, Decien. Our time is short."

As he stood, Decien began one more question. "And what about—"

"Barak Dakens has proven himself to be a valuable asset. He will be put to use. Now, leave me." The Emperor demanded. Decien bowed his head once more in reverence and then stood up, swiftly turned and left the Emperor's chambers. As he pulled back the door, the first seed of a new plan began to take root in his mind. He strode once more through the corridors of the Palace until at last he found himself emerging into the hive once more, watching as the insects buzzed about their planet. They were slaves to the Emperor, as Decien was. But soon, he would change all of that.

...

Of all the entries in the journals of the Shadow Assassins, Barak found Varad's retelling of how his plan to build an army of Bound Sith came about to be the most compelling. He had spent the last week sifting through the files of Imperial Facility 406-P with nothing better to do in Decien's absence; Decien had made sure that he was monitored and had no contact with the outside, but Barak discovered that he had some access to the station's databanks, presumably given to him to allow him to study Antimatter Squadron. Instead, Barak had quickly navigated his way through the security systems of the station and gained access to the entire databank, its secrets absolutely fascinating him. He sat alone, in his empty quarters, with nothing but his thinly-sheeted bed, a large, square, black camera hanging on the ceiling watching his every move, and a datapad. It was only really a half-step above the conditions in which he had been living for the last three years, but it was still better. Barak loaded up the journal entry on the datapad once more, the screen briefly going black as it optimized itself. Barak looked at himself, his messy brown hair and trimmed goatee on his chin. His brown eyes once more carried that spark of rebellion he'd felt inside himself for such a long time, and he had gained back some of the muscle he had lost during his time in imprisonment; Barak, while not in peak physical condition, had certainly made strides towards returning to it since his arrival at the facility. At last, the screen activated, and he began to read it for the umpteenth time, trying to extract any extra meaning from the words he felt were the most important.

"Last night, I saw the path to a future in which the Sith have taken their righteous place as rulers of the Galaxy. It started with a ritual not unfamiliar to me: the ritual Talzin uses to maintain the other outsider, Massikus. However, this time, it was so much more. Before me were a legion of Sith, in the robes of our assassins, their weapons at the ready, their power mine to control. These were no ordinary Sith, but all products of the ritual, deceased spirits returned to the world of the living to serve once more. When I looked upon them, I felt power that no Sith has felt in eons. But this vision did not come to me by itself.

''Gazing onto my army alongside me was a witch, one of Talzin's kind, but I could feel so much more power within her. She told me that this future could be mine if I found the being named Xux and made him my servant. With that information, she and the vision began to fade, and I asked her who she was. She offered me no name, but a title: The Bound.''

Softly piercing his concentration, Barak heard a high-pitched, almost inaudible sound, a sort of hiss. Diverting his attention away from the datapad, which he placed on his neatly-folded bed, he quickly scanned the room for any sign of a gas leak, and, assured that the source of the noise was not inside his room, realized the door at the far end of the hallway in which he resided had opened for the first time since he had been put in it a week ago. There was the briefest silence, then the unmistakable discharge of blasters, all Imperial. Barak didn't know what the reason for the shooting was, and he didn't intend to find out at the present moment.

Now deciding it to be time to make his move, Barak quickly put his contingency escape plan into motion. Moving swiftly as more shots and screams tore down the hallway, Barak wrapped the bed's sheets over his hands as the datapad fell to the ground, then quickly stood on top of the bed and leapt off it in the direction of the opposite wall. At the apex of his jump, Barak reached out and grabbed the camera, then pulled in the opposite direction as far as he could. The camera was pulled from its wires, sparks flying at the ends which had been severed. As he landed, the action drew closer, and Barak could now hear the troopers screaming as his savior cut them down. Next, Barak then eyed the panel next to the door, black with a small button to open the door and red light on top to indicate that it was currently locked. He pulled the camera back in preparation for a powerful swing, and struck the panel harshly with the camera's still-wired end, immediately setting off a reaction causing the panel to explode internally, producing smoke, as the light deactivated and the door swiftly rose.

Standing outside in the corridor, his white armor taking in and reflecting some the blue which illuminated it, was a stormtrooper firing his E-11 down the hallway. Still holding the now unidentifiable camera, Barak quickly smashed the object against the side of the trooper's helmet, stunning him but not taking him out. Barak then grabbed the trooper as a warm shot whizzed its way over his head and pulled him into the room with him. He threw the trooper past him onto the ground, making the trooper drop his weapon, which he quickly dove for as the trooper retaliated by kicking him in the gut. The kick drove all the breath out of Barak, replacing what had been there with pain and a taste of blood as he doubled over. As quick as he could, Barak once again lunged towards the trooper, who spun to face Barak as he picked up his blaster. In a flash, Barak saw the trooper's finger close in the trigger, and he turned himself to the right as he flew towards the trooper, the shot just barely missing him and flying out the door, hitting another trooper who had been about to intervene in the fight directly in the head and killing him. The trooper pushed Barak off and threw him towards the door, where he landed next to the other fallen stormtrooper. Quickly, Barak grabbed the fallen soldier's blaster and let off a quick shot, which hit his opponent in the right shoulder, forcing him to drop his weapon. Barak quickly followed with two more shots to the chest and one to the head, and the soldier fell back, singed and lifeless as his armor clunked against the walls and ground of the cell. Noting that the sounds of battle had ceased, he stood up, blaster at the ready, and peaked left out of the doorway of his room.

Looking down the blue hall, he saw various stormtroopers strewn about, with no survivors, just motionless corpses lying on the ground with fresh blaster marks on their helmets. As he turned over his right shoulder to see his rescuer, blaster still drawn, his view was quickly obstructed by a black gloved fist, which immediately crashed into him, swiftly bringing his consciousness to an end.