LOTF: Collision/Chapter 8

On the other side of the base, Decien landed his newest ship, a larger black shuttle modified for stealth and damage, in a dark, empty hangar, illuminated only the white light of the sky that poured through its open door. The hangar was incomplete, part of an ongoing addition to the base that the severe weather had halted. Decien hopped out of the fighter, landing on the thin layer of snow that had reached out that far into the hangar with a soft thud. Looking around, he saw no threats, but upon reaching into the Force, he found himself blinded. As he reeled, Cyana walked in the unfinished entrance to the room. "Cyana," he asked, "What are you keeping here?"

"Yes, the Brotherhood fleet is indeed ambitious, but they'll never achieve the kind of firepower Dylan wants." Cyana answered dismissively.

"No, I don't care about a fleet. Something else is here, I can sense it."

"Sense it? Who are you, exactly?"

"My name is Decien. I'm an Inquisitor, and that's all you need to know about me." Cyana raised her eyebrow in suspicion, but didn't interject. "What I is what is going on here. My briefing was practically meaningless — just a name to kill — and now I'm here on this uncharted planet with the Empire's top agent and the Brotherhood, and they're building a fleet. And something bigger yet is here." Decien felt his frustration begin to surge within him, but Cyana was not the right person to take it out on.

"You're overreacting. The Brotherhood fleet is nowhere near complete. I've made sure of it. Their resources pour in slowly as their influence over the galaxy diminishes. Whatever you knew about them is now wrong; the Brotherhood are merely dying embers of a flame that once threatened the Galaxy. Who are you here to eliminate?"

"Dylan Antiunknown. Who is that?"

"WHAT?" Cyana drew her blaster pistol, leveling it between Decien's eyes. "This operation is vital and delicate. I would've been told if that were the case."

"My orders came from the Emperor himself." Decien countered, putting one hand on his lightsaber cautiously.

"As did mine."

"Then you should ensure your orders haven't changed." Decien glared at her. He tried to push against her mind, but it felt so far away.

Keeping her blaster raised with her right arm, Cyana brought her left closer to her face. "Open channel E-01. Identification: Cyana Dakens. Passcode: Auras Plighted."

After a moment, her communicator responded. "No signals available."

Decien followed suit, merely silently pressing a few buttons on his, and received the same response.

"Must be the storm," Cyana muttered angrily.

"We are at an impasse." Decien observed. "Will you trust me?"

"What choice do I have?" Cyana asked, her voice indicating that she had finally capitulated the situation. However, at the same time, her grip on her pistol tightened. In the blink of an eye, Cyana pulled the trigger, but a blink was all Decien needed to react. He quickly dodged out of the way of her shot as he pushed a wave towards her, sending her flying back across the room. Activating his lightsaber, he raced across the room, blocking shots fired by Cyana as she scrambled to recover and run. She turned the corner and Decien quickly followed as she made her way towards the rest of the complex, panting, almost stumbling. She crossed another doorway when he was nearly upon her and slammed the button to close it as she ran. Decien quickly blasted through it with the Force, but the effort slowed him down enough for Cyana to reach the security terminal on a nearby wall. "Activate lockdown!" She frantically yelled. Out of time and out of ideas, Decien put forth all his energy into hurtling himself towards Cyana. "Keyword—AHH!"

As Decien grabbed her shoulder, he threw her to the ground and focused on his presence in the Force as well as hers, now that she was close enough for him to be able to affect it. He put forth all the energy he had remaining into shrinking those presences, making them as invisible as he could, and Decien knew he had been met with success as a deeper chill began to envelop him. It was not that of Anarto, but a chill almost spiritual, one that Decien had learned was known to characterize the stealth technique of the Umbaran Sith, shadow walking.

"KEYWORD: PARADUS!" Cyana screamed.

In a flash, Decien found himself tightly strapped to a table as three small, red lights bore their way into into his eyes. He tried to breathe in but found only the smallest trace of air, which he then weakly pushed out. Before him, a hooded figure loomed, unmoving.

"You were on Umbara. Why?" A slow, raspy voice — Palpatine's voice — spoke.

"His will shall not be ignored." Decien found himself answering.

"Whose will?"

"To you, his name is vacant. He is powerful beyond names. He is invisible beyond the Force. And his will shall not be ignored."

The figure extended one wrinkled hand. "If you will not yield, I will pry the answers from your mind."

"His will shall-"

Decien lurched forth violently, snapping the straps as the blood rushed to his head, as he flew into Palpatine's open hand, as he felt his mind invaded, torn apart by an intruder searching for a hidden valuable, as he screamed and tried to push back, as he felt the name ripped from him.

"Paradus."

Silence.

"Awaiting keyword."

"Paradus!" Cyana yelled. Decien flinched. Cyana struggled against him but he pinned her with the Force.

"Lockdown aborted."

Decien put away his saber and grabbed Cyana's throat with his other gloved hand, raising her up and pinning her against the wall. "We're invisible now. No one can see or hear us. Now, you're going to tell me, where is Dylan?"

She pushed against him, but her efforts were futile. After a few moments of struggling, Decien decided he would need to use alternative methods to get her to speak.

"Did you know your husband works for me?" He asked her menacingly. "Barak still believes you're alive even now. What a shame it would be to prove him wrong."

As her breath began to run out, Cyana's eyes widened. "S...south. His quarters... You'll never get through." She quietly gasped.

Decien smirked. "Watch me." He waved his other hand over Cyana's forehead, using the Force to calm her body and lull her into sleep. Her eyes closed, she went limp, and Decien loosed his grip, bringing her more gently down to the ground. Finally, he let go of her, and immediately felt a great burden removed from him, now having to only hide himself. Quickly, he slipped away into the darkness of the base, hunting for the man who held his answers.

...

The stainless white durasteel doors which led into Praxon's quarters aboard Nova's ship quietly slid up, a cooler breeze drifting out, to reveal an equally spotless room. Truthfully, the room was rather bare, with only a pale bed, lights, a few white drawers which armor had put into, and a very sleek window which peered out of the frigate. At the moment, the frigate was in hyperspace, and an endless tunnel of blue, black, and white fluctuated wildly through the window, against the silhouette of the Rodian standing in the room in contemplation. He didn't turn as Ranulph slowly entered the room, bringing with him a tray of gourmet Hutt foods.

"I know you have a droid brain processing it too, but I don't think you should be staring into that for extended periods of time." Ranulph worriedly advised him. Praxon turned his head, his cybernetic eye scanning Ranulph up and down quickly.

"Yula's vision foretold great loss for its heroes." Praxon stated.

"Yes, it did." Ranulph responded, walking closer and placing the food down on Praxon's bed.

"That loss will come soon." Praxon said with certainty as he fully turned to face Ranulph.

"What makes you say that?"

"Simple statistics. We have endured relatively few losses so far, and are now facing down a threat of unknown proportions with allies we barely trust. The optimal time for suffering is nearing.

"Okay, who's saying this? You, or the droid?"

Praxon turned away. "Both."

Ranulph walked closer to Praxon, placing his hand on his shoulder. "Listen...Yula may not be around anymore, but she would say something about how we must accept whatever will happen to us, because the Force says so. I'm not Yula, but the way I see it, there's no use fretting now about what's coming. All we can do now is perform our best. The Jedi will, Cade will, Hans will, I will. We need that commitment from you, too. Both of you."

Praxon clenched his fists. "You will have it. However, have you considered that the prophecy may be—" He suddenly stopped, looking around, his cybernetic eye darting wildly across the room and paying no attention to Ranulph. Ranulph scanned the room too, but saw nothing. "What's wrong?"

"Quiet!" Praxon softly yelled. Suddenly, his attention darted back towards the window, which he ran to, gazing quietly for a moment before he let out a sigh, and turned back to Ranulph.

"How long until we reach Anarto II?" He slowly asked.

"Likely under half an hour. Why?"

"We're nowhere near close enough to any other planet, and someone on this ship just sent a signal forwards."

"There's a traitor on board." At this realization, Ranulph and Praxon both instinctively reached their blasters and scanned the room up and down for any possible bugs.

"We don't have the time to find them." Praxon said grimly, having run the calculations for the chances of doing so in his head.

A long, high tone chimed over the intercom of the frigate. "All hands report to battle stations. Approaching Anarto II."

"What do we do?" Ranulph asked.

"Watch our backs." Praxon answered, walking out.