Ten years, three months, and ten days after the Battle of Yavin…
Or forty-fifth year, third month, and tenth day after the Great Resynchronization.
(Nine months and thirtieth day since the Arrival.)
The Quimar sector was located at the northern terminus of one of the most important and ancient galactic hyperlane routes: the Hydian Way.
Bordered to the north by the Happich sector, to the south by the Nembas sector, to the west by the Korva sector, and to the east by the I-sector, it — like the other satellite sectors of the Zann Consortium — was experiencing what could be called the "wrath of the Dominion."
The Quimar sector and its nearest neighbors.
Unremarkable at first glance, the sector was nevertheless a crossroads of crucial hyperlane routes.
Besides the aforementioned Hydian Way, the territories of Quimar hosted the Listerhol Path, linking the eponymous planet in the Quimar sector to the planet Zygerria in the Chorlian sector, located south of the Corporate Sector.
It was there that the Listerhol Path intersected with the Shaltin Tunnels, leading to the southeastern part of the Corporate Sector.
There was also an ancient hyperlane known as the Morellian Way, which connected planets and sectors in the northern part of the galaxy to the Corporate Sector before the Hydian Way — previously existing as a collection of separate routes — was unified into a single whole.
At present, only academics and particularly meticulous navigators knew that the northern part of the Hydian Way was actually a completely different hyperlane.
However, it wasn't the worlds on the Morellian Way that were the target of Commodore Stormaer, his Abyssal Fury, and the fleet commanded from the flagship Star Destroyer.
Antonias calmly watched the fading colorful spectacle of hyperspace before him.
The commander of the Abyssal Fury was mentally steeling himself for what he had to do.
The limited fleet at his disposal — two dozen heavy cruisers, only two interdictor cruisers, and three Star Destroyers, not counting screening and escort vessels — was not an invincible force that the "Abyss" could afford to scatter across every system he needed to conquer.
So he advanced slowly, step by step, planet by planet, system by system, claiming the territories of the Quimar sector.
From spy droids, he knew perfectly well what forces the enemy had in each star system.
He also knew that they were incapable of coordinating their forces — fleet special forces had knocked out the sector relay.
Without the HoloNet and its function of repeating transmissions to nearby relays, the enemy had few options left to counter the threat of the Dominion's invasion.
Antonias easily exploited the lack of communication between enemy forces to strike first.
Dividing his forces into groups, he hit those systems with the least defensive strength.
Using numerical superiority, he swept through the systems of Haaridin, Bizikiya, Protasc, Rakrir, Raiya, and Vendar with fire.
The Zann Consortium's starships patrolling these worlds, or the local defense forces cooperating with them, were completely and unceremoniously destroyed.
Obliterated before they could leave the systems and link up with the enemy's main forces in several key systems to mount serious resistance.
He had to give the enemy commander credit — he wasn't stupid.
Immediately after the HoloNet fell, making every route out of the sector a death trap for anyone trying to leave, the enemy command began pulling their forces back from secondary worlds.
The Zann forces abandoned their bases and outposts, loaded onto ships, and intended to concentrate all their strength.
Antonias didn't share their confidence that they would succeed.
He was fully aware that he didn't have enough strength to attack all systems simultaneously.
And he identified the priorities the enemy was using to weaken some positions and reinforce others.
He would have to fight the Zann forces "for real" that was a fact.
But the "Abyss" believed it was better to weaken the enemy with every available force and asset before the decisive battle.
So he sent his ships across the entire sector, destroying the enemy's numerous but individually weak detachments.
Thus preventing them from linking up and becoming a force to be reckoned with.
By attacking systems from which the enemy had withdrawn their forces and were preparing to retreat, hitting enemy starship convoys en route to their destinations, he significantly made his subsequent work easier.
But it cost him both Venator-class Star Destroyers assigned to the fleet and an equal number of interdictor cruisers.
And over a dozen support ships — corvettes.
Sent to intercept two enemy groups that, according to intelligence reports, were evacuating extremely valuable raw materials from the Artus system, mined in the mines on Artus Prime.
Raw materials that concerned the Jensaarai Order.
So much so that they had assigned to it…
Antonias glanced at the section of the bridge usually occupied by the currently absent trio.
One — a Jensaarai defender, hidden beneath his armor, thereby resembling a large animal.
The second — an adult male, dressed modestly and practically, scowling at his surroundings.
The third member of their group…
Rather — the third.
A Dathomirian witch.
On each of this trio's belts hung lightsabers, and judging by what the stormtroopers had told about their participation in the ground operation on Stormaer's first major target in the Quimar sector, the planet Korlong — they used them quite skillfully.
Run by aristocratic families who supported the Zann Consortium with great enthusiasm and zeal, these aristocrats commanded a significant fleet and army of mercenaries.
Eliminating them had required the "Abyss's" full strength.
The bloody battle had lasted several days.
The enemy regularly brought reinforcements from nearby systems and threw them into the attack to prevent the fleet from intervening in the ground operation.
Reinforcements were sent from Vensin III — a world of slavers that had become a forge of troops for the local Zann Consortium forces.
With washed brains, obedient and undemanding, hundreds of thousands of slaves were thrown at the Dominion armed forces.
As infantry, as starship crews, as fighter pilots…
Everyone had to be killed.
And at that point — no sentimentality.
Either you or them.
No other option.
The easy targets were gone.
Only the hardest remained.
Listerhol and Artus Prime, Telos IV had been attacked a day ago, and the campaign on those worlds had ended in Dominion victory.
Not the most brilliant, but a victory nonetheless.
Stormaer had captured the sector's most important transport hub, a planet in whose depths certain crystals were mined that interested the Jensaarai Order, as well as one of the sector's fortress worlds.
Though, from a tactical perspective, these worlds were currently useless to the Dominion.
The Listerhol Path was securely blocked by mines, and Listerhol itself was no longer important as a transport hub.
On Artus Prime, most of the mines had been blown up before Kavil's Corsairs mercenaries could capture them, and their restoration would cost considerable funds and precious time.
Telos IV… ravaged by the invasion, it had also become a less-than-hospitable planet after orbital bombardments of enemy bases.
But there were advantages in all of this.
The enemy had lost half of their remaining fleet, but of the "Abyss's" forces, not many starships remained combat-effective.
He couldn't control a large number of systems with his depleted squadron, so he had to leave only demonstrative ships there.
The most damaged fleet vessels — mostly heavy cruisers and corvettes — served as station-keepers.
But on Telos IV and Listerhol, due to their proximity to the remaining criminal worlds, Antonias had been forced to leave two of his four Star Destroyers as station-keepers.
Because that was where the "Abyss" squadron's rear and repair bases were deployed.
And by the time of the final assault, all he had left were both interdictors, the recently repaired Abyssal Fury and Bellicose, sixteen corvettes, and ten heavy cruisers.
And there was more than one target.
There were three of them.
All the same ones: Vernsin III, Tigan, and Tantive.
If the first one was clear enough, the second was the location of a company that produced protocol droids.
The Tigan Technology Consortium hadn't been caught producing combat and sabotage droids of several models from the time of the Confederacy of Independent Systems in the past.
But according to intelligence data, after the Defilers appeared on the planet, management decided to retool their production facilities.
Whether of their own free will or under pressure — intelligence didn't know.
But such nuances didn't concern the Void.
What interested him far more was that the Tigan Technology Consortium possessed several factories built by the same CIS during the Clone Wars.
How and when they managed to acquire them — history does not record.
But a fact remains a fact.
There's a hostile planet.
It has factories that produce the same droids the Dominion uses.
There's an order — destroy the enemy.
The logical chain traced itself.
That was why two-thirds of the Void's available fleet was currently attacking those specified planets.
According to courier reports — things on Tigan and Vernsin III weren't progressing in the best possible way.
But not badly either.
What worried the Void far more was the Tantive system.
It was widely known in the galaxy for several reasons.
First — the Alderaan Gallery of Progressive Art, located on the fourth planet from the local star.
Alderaan and Tantive IV had once been mutually friendly worlds with a rich history of cooperation. The former had even named one of their ships after the sister planet.
The second reason to remember the Tantive system was the battle near the planet Tantive V.
Occurring several years ago, it became the site of Admiral Drommel's defeat and the destruction of his fleet, after which the New Republic subjugated the Oplovis sector almost effortlessly.
But those were just bedtime stories for civilians.
For the military, Tantive V was of interest for a completely different reason than those two.
Tantive V was the main target of the attack in the Quimar sector.
It was to its defense that the enemy was pulling all their combat-ready forces, leaving the periphery exposed.
It was here that all the sector's transport routes converged before distributing to their required destinations.
It was here that those two convoys were heading, the interception of which had been assigned to both Dragons and two of the four originally available interdictor cruisers.
It was because of these convoys' cargo that the enemy had thrown additional forces into the defense, forces intelligence couldn't report in time.
Result — the loss of four starships at once.
And the deaths of seventy percent of the crews on those ships.
This worried Antonias far more than the nearly two dozen enemy starships, ranging from corvettes to battleships, destroyed during the operation in the sector.
Because he, as a prudent master and commander, understood perfectly well what effort it took to replace trained personnel in the fleet.
Ships were less to be pitied than people.
But action was necessary.
And so the plan for a simultaneous attack on three enemy planets at once was audacious.
To each planet — Tigan and Vernsin III — he had sent detachments of two heavy cruisers each, supported by four corvettes.
They easily destroyed the enemy's patrol ships, allowing a few starfighters to escape.
A trap designed on the assumption that the enemy wouldn't risk losing droid production and a slave army.
Expectations were met.
The Zann forces didn't take the risk.
And from Tantive IV, two larger detachments rushed to their aid.
Which were intercepted at the borders of the attacked systems by two other detachments, this time belonging to the Dominion.
And consisting of three heavy cruisers, an interdictor cruiser, and four screening corvettes each.
The enemy reinforcements were caught in a trap, and now a bloody battle was underway in both systems.
Which in ten minutes would be joined by two Star Destroyers — from Listerhol and Telos IV.
And that would be the final nail in those battles.
But not in the battle that awaited the Fury of the Abyss, the Warlike, and four screening corvettes.
Tantive V wasn't just the site of Admiral Drommel's defeat.
Tantive V was a planet in whose orbit there was a shipyard capable not just of repairing, but of BUILDING Star Destroyer-class vessels.
A full production cycle, no — modular assembly — but it was an unpleasant surprise nonetheless.
And according to New Republic data, this shipyard had been destroyed by them during the attack on Drommel's fleet.
Or before, or maybe after that.
But a fact remained a fact.
The enemy had rebuilt it.
And was using it to commission Star Destroyers at an accelerated pace.
And what Star Destroyers at that!
The Interrogator.
An Imperial-II, once serving under the command of the Empire's Supreme Inquisitor, Tremayne.
How and why this ship ended up in the service of the Zann Consortium, no one had managed to understand to this day.
Just as they couldn't understand how the Dominant had ended up paired with it.
Another Imperial-II, but one that had served under the command of Grand Admiral Demetrius Zaarin.
And, like his entire fleet, had vanished into space after his rebellion failed.
Neither of these ships had been spotted in the sector by the time Stormaer began his attack on Quimar.
And they hadn't appeared until the Venators were destroyed.
They had taken direct part in that engagement and were currently undergoing emergency repairs.
From scattered data, the Void understood that both starships had appeared at the battle site almost by chance, pulled out of hyperspace by gravity well generators.
And they already had significant damage.
Consistent with what minefields inflict.
There was only one hypothesis — these ships had been moving toward Quimar when the mine activation signals went off.
But things would only become clearer after firsthand data was obtained.
And now, when it became clear that the previously idle shipyards were being used to repair two rather serious opponents, the Void couldn't delay the campaign's finale.
As much as he could, he had lightened his upcoming task.
But it still awaited him ahead.
And there was a lot of it.
A pair of battered destroyers was only a small part of the problems awaiting his detachment in orbit of Tantive V.
The hyperspace bouquet unraveled, ejecting two Dominion destroyers and a pair of Crusaders into realspace.
A few seconds later, two more screening corvettes tore free from their magnetic suspension cradles in the main hangars, and small craft began swarming out of the holds of both Dominion ships.
Before them, the full view of an orbital dock, similar to those once at Sluis Van, spread out.
The gray hulls of two destroyers inside enclosed slipways beckoned with the grayish tone of their armor.
But to reach them, the Dominion forces first had to destroy half a dozen Interceptor-class frigates, six Acclamator-class assault ships — those very freighters that had been hauling loot from across the entire sector to the enemy's final base — and a dozen Kaloth-class battlecruisers.
Not to mention a dozen Corellian DP20 frigates, which, judging by their position in space, were supposed to have been dispatched to aid their forces on Vernsin III and Tigan.
Antonias, seeing the wealth spread before his eyes, rubbed his hands together with satisfaction.
A carnivorous smile appeared on his face.
Yes, he had already lost four ships.
But he had the opportunity to rectify that, at least partially compensating for the losses with new ships.
It wouldn't bring the people back, of course, but war was war.
"Fleet order — destroy the Kaloths," he said, a pang of regret twisting in his gut at such a wasteful command. But the Void knew that such starships were useless to the Dominion even as scrap metal. "Assault ships and Corellian frigates — capture."
"Sir, activity detected on the destroyers," the watch officer reported to him, looking rather tense. "They're starting to emerge from the docks. Registering up to half of functional artillery."
"The Interrogator and the Dominant are not our concern," Stormaer cut him off, watching as the pair of Crusader-IIs raced at full speed toward the orbital dock.
"I hope that brood of Jensaarai doesn't spoil my trophies," the Star Destroyer commander grumbled, observing the battle's beginning.
* * *
Is it right to disobey your mother?
By all laws of human morality — not quite.
And when your mother is also your boss?
A debatable question, certainly.
Debatable.
So Fodeum argued.
A lot.
For a long time.
Without results.
And now, standing near the emergency airlock of the Crusader, he could feel two pairs of eyes on his back, boring through his sealed-cycle armor more fiercely than a couple of blasters would.
"The truth isn't written on my cloak," he said, addressing that insufferable pair.
"You yourself said — wisdom must be drawn from everywhere," Gantoris said meaningfully.
"Including from around us," Magash Drashi echoed him.
The Jensaarai Defender rolled his eyes, mentally reaching out to the Force for the patience he so desperately needed.
This was mockery!
To foist two students on him, who himself had only recently been a student!
"We don't have so few mentors, Fodeum," the Saarai-kaar had explained her decision.
Who was also, coincidentally, his mother.
And she didn't care what Gantoris had said to him when they met.
And she was indifferent to her son's claims that it was absolutely uncomfortable for him to teach the Order's bullets to even one adult, fully-formed personality, let alone two students at once.
But the Saarai-kaar stood her ground.
"We cannot teach adult adepts, who know about the Force and can use it, on the same level as children," she had put an end to their argument. "Gantoris absorbs basic knowledge faster than Tatooine sand absorbs moisture. Magash is sufficiently trained in the fundamentals to become part of combat groups. They only need a nudge in understanding our philosophy, to see its application in practice."
Jensaarai combat groups...
How far we've fallen!
Defenders going to war as part of the Dominion's regular armed forces, and the Saarai-kaar saw nothing wrong with it.
Not even contradictions in her own logic.
Just like the Jedi, the "guardians of peace" who became warlords overnight — and where had that led them?
Yes, and finally, why had the "honor" of ensuring the crystal mines on Artus Prime were conquered as quickly as possible and brought under the Order's jurisdiction fallen to them of all people?
There were other combat groups!
Why couldn't he teach these two Jensaarai philosophy somewhere at customs posts instead of on the front lines?
Yes, those Hutt-forsaken Artusian crystals, as far as Fodeum could judge from the samples found on the planet, resembled those used in lightsabers...
But they were a "thing in itself" and their properties weren't fully understood.
And Dominion intelligence just had to sniff out those mines right now, didn't they?
But the deed was done.
Artus Prime was captured.
And, in all likelihood, the crystal mining sites would be transferred to the Order's jurisdiction, just as it had been with the Jedi in the Old Republic.
The mines had been blown up, of course — all but two — and all extracted stockpiles were currently on the Acclamators, past which the Crusaders carrying the boarding parties had flown.
His mother had tasked him with personally ensuring the already-found crystals didn't leave the sector.
Commodore Stormaer would handle the enemy ships, but Fodeum and his students were to attack the Imperial-IIs sitting in the shipyards.
First of all, because the cargo from the cruisers had been reloaded into the destroyers' holds.
Secondly...
"Teacher," Fodeum flinched every time he was addressed that way. This time was no exception. "Are you sure we can capture two Star Destroyers at once with our small forces? They have crews — several tens of thousands on each!"
The Jensaarai Defender sighed heavily.
"We don't need to capture these ships with several tens of thousands of crew on board," he said. "Most of their crews are currently on the planet, on alert. Only skeleton watches are on the ships. Our task is to prevent the shuttles carrying the crews from reaching the destroyers before our forces. And yes, a hundred droidekas per starship will be enough to prevent the watch crews from causing trouble for our naval forces."
"But, first and foremost, we're concerned with them not taking the Artusian crystals out of the system, right, teacher?" Gantoris pressed on.
"That's also part of our task," Fodeum confirmed.
"But aren't the Jensaarai focused only on defense?" asked Magash Drashi. "We're, like, attacking..."
And there was really nothing to counter that with, except...
Fodeum turned to face his students.
Both were clad in light spacesuits that didn't restrict movement.
And behind them — several droidekas, awaiting their "moment of glory," which would clearly last a good while.
Especially considering that these droids filled nearly every corridor and vacant compartment of the corvette.
"There's an ancient saying: 'Attack is the best defense,'" he said, realizing as he spoke that he was actually misquoting the original. But why stop a motivational speech for that? "The Zann Consortium and its servants attacked the Dominion, which we swore to protect. And sitting in passive defense isn't the best option. We could hold the enemy at our borders for months, but that's unwise. Because behind a destroyed fleet and a routed army, other fleets and armies will come. The galaxy is vast. And there's no shortage of those willing to fight for money in it."
Actually, he was quoting his mother's words now.
The very same questions he had once asked her.
"That sounds ambiguous," said Gantoris. "So we're defending against aggression by using our own aggression? Not negotiations, not discussions, not through compromises, which the Jedi were famous for?"
"But I think it's logical," declared Magash. "Why tolerate attacks when you can go to the offender and kill him in his own home? So why torment yourself with some moral qualms when the ultimate goal is a righteous one?"
Well, of course.
Considering HOW she had ended up in the Dominion, and that she had initially trained under Darth Maul (who had rejected her for 'inability to follow the path of the Dark Side'), no other answer was to be expected.
Such were her students.
Gantoris — a pragmatic phlegmatic, cautious and contemplative, like a Jedi.
Magash — impulsive and stubborn, quick to retaliate and proactive in adventures on the edge.
One achieved his goals through diligence and a methodical approach.
The other through furious drive.
Two sides of the same coin.
They should really learn from each other the very qualities they themselves lacked...
Fodeum almost slapped his palm to his face.
And now he understood why the Saagar-kaar had brought this pair together and placed them under his command.
Each possessed what the other lacked.
"Precisely, Gantoris," said Fodeum. "The Jedi loved to talk. And where are they now?"
The native of Eol Sha remained silent.
"The Jensaarai don't strike first," said the Defender. "But we don't blindly defend. We strike back."
"Sometimes — before we're even wronged," Magash giggled.
"Never," Fodeum contradicted her.
"But the Quimar sector and its worlds didn't attack the Dominion," Gantoris stubbornly reminded him.
"However, they provided the enemy with their resources, supplies, and basing locations, and ensured equipment repair," Fodeum countered. "Anyone who helps an aggressor is themselves an accomplice to aggression. And if such people are not stopped — decisively and harshly — then one day they'll believe that this petty groveling and aiding aggression comes without consequences. In the long term, we'll have a potential aggressor right next to the Dominion. One who only needs to build up strength — and then stopping him will only be possible at the cost of a great deal of blood."
"There's logic in those words," Gantoris stated, agreeing. "But, wouldn't it have been simpler to send diplomatic notes to the local governments and demand they hand over the accomplices? Don't you teach us about humility, patience, control over emotions? Doesn't emotional control presuppose a prior arrangement to save the innocent?"
"That was done before the invasion began," Fodeum informed his students. "All allies of the Zann Consortium refused us. In rather rude terms. After that, the HoloNet collapsed, and we began seeking justice through military means."
"Can we stop the chatter already and finish off those who are against us?" the Dathomirian's eyes lit up with a dangerous yellow fire, and the Dark Side of the Force emanated from her.
Having experience as a student of Reynar Obscuro, Fodeum was forced to agree with Darth Maul's words.
Magash Drashi wasn't strong enough in the Dark Side to become one of the Shadow Guards.
So he would have to keep racking his brain and fraying his nerves to teach them Jensaarai philosophy.
"One cannot kill without control," Fodeum declared. "The Dark Side comes to you easily when you're in battle or wounded. Too easily to resist if you're unprepared. Negative emotions feed the Dark Side. And it feeds the emotions. That's why Sith who lack control and discipline became maniacs and terrorists. It was precisely them the Jedi fought at the dawn of their Order. Only the control of our emotions — both positive and base — allows us not to slide into dogmatism, but to take from the Force what is necessary at any given moment. To turn it into a controlled and accountable tool. If you surrender to it without possessing the necessary skills of self-control — you will lose yourself. Forever."
Silence answered him.
And skepticism in both students' eyes.
"Defender, prepare for landing," the corvette commander informed him, as the ship began to shudder from periodic impacts on its deflector shields. "Approaching launch position in ten seconds. Countdown has begun. Compartments sealed. Good luck to you."
"And to you," Fodeum signaled to his students that it was time to move to the most crucial part of their flight.
Calling upon the Force as an ally, the young Jensaarai Defender expanded his perception and tensed his muscles...
* * *
It was highly unlikely that any of the pilots or crew of the Star Destroyers had ever seen anything like this.
What makes decompression dangerous for a spaceship?
The fact that through a breach, the ship's atmosphere and everything not welded or bolted to the bulkheads and deck plates will rush out at incredible speed.
What makes it dangerous for sentient beings?
For stormtrooper units flying into the open main hangar bay on jetpacks — nothing.
For droidekas, which the escaping atmosphere ejects from emergency airlocks like cannon fire — well, maybe a few dents or a malfunction if they collide with the destroyer's hull.
And for three Jensaarai, two of whom were students?
For three Jensaarai who hadn't mastered jetpack control and were now flying toward the glowing rectangle of the Interrogator's main hangar at tremendous speed?
Anything but a pleasant experience.
But the plan was rather ambitious, overall.
Launching a boarding party directly into an Imperial Star Destroyer's hangar using decompression.
And doing it at an angle so that the final point of their flight would be directly inside the ship's main landing bay.
Flying through the white-blue haze of the atmospheric field under inertia, Fodeum felt his insides, which had fled to his heels from the G-force, suddenly yank downward.
He, as well as his students, found themselves within the ship's artificial gravity field.
As planned.
Which caused considerable shock among the deck crew.
Some of them, of course, reacted faster, reaching for their blasters.
But they immediately fell to the rapid-fire shots from the droidekas that had landed on the deck with a terrible clatter and screech of metal.
The metallic killers began their advance into the enemy starship's interior flawlessly, unrelentingly, mercilessly.
Their shimmering protective shields reflected blaster bolts of any power the hangar defenders could throw at them.
Unlike his students, Fodeum had no need to shed his armor.
Even with the rapid decompression system, which literally blew off the front section and helmet.
The Jensaarai immersed himself in the flow of the Force, thinking that the stormtroopers who, in place of the Jensaarai, were attacking the second destroyer (yes, also with droideka support) had things no easier.
Harder, even.
Because the Force didn't tell them where the enemies were.
Though the numerous scanning and targeting systems of their armor could help them there.
But that was another matter.
Fodeum habitually turned to his irritation at his students as a starting point for his appeal to the Dark Side of the Force.
Of course, he was still afraid of who he could become and what he would turn into if he surrendered to it completely, but...
That was exactly why he had undergone training under Bre'ano Umakk — he knew how to control the beast within himself.
Irritation and fear blazed up like metal in a forge, unleashing a white-hot, all-consuming wrath.
And, reflecting the shots aimed at him, Fodeum surged into the attack, exulting at the sight of the enemy squad that had decided to eliminate him.
The lightsaber, once belonging to Darth Vader — who in his youth had been named Anakin Skywalker — and later to his son, the overhyped New Republic Jedi, deflected every shot and, thanks to the lunge its current owner made, plunged into the body of the nearest enemy.
The armed technician split in two, and Fodeum was already moving forward.
He parried a shot aimed at his head, then hurled the shooter several meters back with the Force, knocking down a group of other gunners.
And continued killing.
Did he regret the lives he was taking?
Perhaps somewhere deep in his soul and consciousness.
But right now he had become an element, an unbridled force that was hacking the hangar's defenders to pieces and...
An explosion, occurring a meter from him, literally hurled him against the hangar's side wall.
Concussed and having lost concentration, the young Jensaarai struggled to his feet, trying to understand what had just happened.
Sounds reached him in fragments, distorted, as if he were underwater while someone on the surface tried to hold a conversation with him...
He reached out to the Force, using the pain from his wounds as fuel to keep going.
The Defender shut out the fact that several fragments from a grenade blast were lodged in his body.
He didn't even care that the armor he had created turned out not to be a "waste of time," as he had previously believed.
It had genuinely saved his life—the breastplate, riddled with sharp shrapnel, testified to that.
Right now, Fodeum shut out all reflection.
He saw enemy fighters flooding into the hangar.
He saw Gantoris and Magash attacking them, while a Rodian grenadier—the one who had shot him—was already taking aim at them.
He saw the Rodian load a new grenade into his PLX-1, start raising the weapon...
One shot, and both of his students, whose only armor was cloth, would be dead.
"Not today," Fodeum said, thrusting his free hand—the one not holding the lightsaber—forward.
The fragments that had nearly killed him tore free from the armored elements of his suit with a quiet metallic groan.
Ballistokinesis, a unique technique used by the Jensaarai, deadlier than Force Lightning.
If you knew how and where to apply it.
It was destructive and merciless, because the stream of razor-sharp projectiles that pierced the Rodian's body didn't stop.
His grenade launcher exploded, scattering new shrapnel in all directions.
But Fodeum didn't let it harm his students.
He took control of them.
Each one individually, and the entire lethal mass of metal contained in the explosion of the high-explosive fragmentation grenade.
Guided by the will of the Jensaarai Defender, it continued its path, seeking a new target.
Two technicians who tried to flee toward the briefing rooms were torn to shreds by the metal.
Fodeum looked toward the Devaronian setting up a heavy blaster...
And the deadly swarm of shrapnel carved the alien into a bloody steak.
The enemy was retreating, seeing more and more Droidekas pouring into the hangar with enviable regularity.
They began to withdraw, realizing that without the heavy weapon operators—whom the trio of Jensaarai were systematically eliminating—they couldn't overcome the deflector-shielded Droidekas.
And Fodeum, Gantoris, and Magash had no intention of letting these beings retreat.
Beings, precisely.
Not deserting Imperials, no.
The minority on this ship were just that.
This was no longer a vessel with traitors aboard.
This was a Star Destroyer that had fallen into the hands of criminals.
Scum they planned to turn against the Dominion.
That was unforgivable.
It had to be exterminated.
The Dark Side called to Fodeum, and the young man answered.
Willingly, lovingly, attentively.
The pain of his wounds fueled his anger, and that anger fueled his fury.
The stronger the latter became, the more pain Fodeum felt.
He was literally burning in a fire, caught in that treacherous vortex of emotions that fed the Dark Side.
Which, in turn, amplified the emotions.
A vicious cycle that he used as he advanced through the corridors of the Star Destroyer.
He killed indiscriminately, paying no attention to the fact that his armor had blackened from the hits of their blasters—hits that were becoming far too numerous along his path.
Each one brought pain, which he turned into a weapon.
He himself became a weapon.
Tireless.
Unstoppable.
Absolute.
He no longer distinguished between corridors and compartments; he had long since stopped noticing that he wasn't moving alongside the Droidekas, but on his own path.
He wasn't clearing the ship after the machines.
He had become a machine of flesh and blood himself, carving a path through the busiest sections of the Star Destroyer.
A lightsaber, or debris from equipment he had torn apart himself—it didn't matter what he used.
All of it was a weapon.
Decorative panels, whose thin durasteel sheared beings apart beautifully.
Lighting fixtures that exploded whenever crew members of that scum-ship got near them.
Bulkheads that crushed enemies when they were trapped in them...
He killed, leaving only piles of bodies and pools of blood behind—wherever death caught the enemy not by a lightsaber.
His path ended abruptly.
In a large, spacious room he entered, the enemies simply ran out.
He had killed them.
Every last one.
Torn them apart.
And he was surprised to find himself on the bridge of the Star Destroyer.
In the superstructure.
Even though, not that long ago, he had been in the hangar bay...
The man, recollecting himself, activated his comlink.
"Gantoris! Magash! Where are you?"
"Behind you," he heard the reply.
But not in his helmet.
They were speaking behind his back.
The man turned.
Both students, pale and clearly uncomfortable, were looking around.
Every bulkhead, every control terminal on the bridge—everything was covered with bodies or splattered with the blood of the dead.
Dozens of people.
Far more than needed to command a ship like this.
"You drove them from the hangar all the way to the bridge," Gantoris said, as if reading his thoughts. "Herding them here like animals, killing anyone who dared to stop or resist."
Fodeum felt his hands begin to tremble.
What he had feared most had happened.
He had lost control...
And he, a butcher, was supposed to teach these beings the philosophy of defense?
How could he turn beings into exemplary Jensaarai when he himself didn't live up to the standard?
"This is..." the man muttered. "This is wrong... It shouldn't have happened like this."
"Well, if you ask me," Magash's eyes flashed, "that was something! I haven't seen anything like that even from the Inquisitors working for Silri!"
"You killed them like animals," Gantoris shook his head. "Just tore beings apart..."
"I lost control," Fodeum said, embarrassed.
He was the least pleased with what had happened.
And the most guilty for the massacre.
Something had happened.
Something had broken his moral compass...
"Lesson learned," Gantoris suddenly said, clipping his lightsaber to his belt. "Patience and emotional control. Now I see why it's necessary. One demonstration replaced dozens of hours of your broken explanations."
Fodeum felt panic rising.
What was happening?
"Well, I wouldn't mind doing the same to my enemies, the ones who used me and sent me into the Dominion," the Dathomirian witch said vengefully. "But... Master, no offense, of course. Still, being near you during those moments was just dangerous. You nearly killed us three times... If what you showed us is what awaits us if we fall to the Dark Side, then... Fine, I'll stop thinking your explanations about control are just empty talk."
The Jensaarai Defender hastily put both hands behind his back.
So his students wouldn't see them shaking.
He...
He had nearly become a mindless killer, subservient to the Dark Side of the Force, and they...
They thought he was giving a practical lesson?!
That he had decided to show them firsthand what uncontrolled, all-consuming rage looked like?!
This...
This...
This needed to be used.
Fodeum let the Light Side of the Force flow through him, shutting out the fear and confusion.
"There are still enemies on the ship," he said. "Now I will demonstrate what it means to fight using control over the Force, rather than surrendering to its mad current..."
"I hope I can make it just as impressive for them," Fodeum thought.
* * *
General Rahm Kota felt a certain anxiety inside.
Something was happening, and he couldn't understand what.
The Force was churning unusually violently, something it hadn't done in a long time.
If you listened closely, you could sense that something irreversible was happening somewhere in the galaxy.
The old Jedi strained to look into the Force, to break through time and space, to understand...
But he couldn't do it.
Visions of the future and the present flashed before his eyes in an unclear tumble of images he was unable to grasp or comprehend.
Annoyed, the old Jedi opened his eyes, breaking off his meditation.
Well, he had never been strong at understanding the Force's hints.
Only a few times had it given him a clear picture of the future—when he met Galen Marek at the orbital assembly plant for Imperial fighters.
And on Dantooine, when he decided to find his old student, Falon Grey, to recruit him for the Rebel Alliance's cause.
Only to find the corpse of the first, and his clone—the one for whom Falon had sacrificed his life.
The old Jedi muttered an unintelligible curse, pondering what these twists of fate could mean.
He didn't grasp the essence, but he suspected nothing good would come from the HoloNet blackout for him or the entire galaxy.
But he couldn't prevent it either.
At least not from here, from the orbit of Sullust.
All he could do was wait.
And hope that the Force would take pity on him and provide an answer.
* * *
Starships emerged from hyperspace in several groups, as if competing to see which side had numerical superiority over the other.
Captain Pellaeon watched warily as the Alliance squadron and the fleet of the Silri Syndicate materialized at the borders of the Kessel sector.
Where only a single Interdictor and a pair of Dominion patrol corvettes were stationed.
"Sir," he addressed the Grand Admiral, "we risk losing ships before we even engage the enemy."
This was to say nothing of the fact that both sides had brought dozens of large ships and oceans of starfighters to the battlefield.
"We do risk it," Thrawn agreed. "There is no war without risk."
"The donor's memories of last year's campaign suggest you know how to orchestrate battles like clockwork," the commander of the Super Star Destroyer thought. "Without risk to personnel."
"Sir, if they unite against us, they'll have a guaranteed advantage over all our forces in the sector," Pellaeon warned.
"The key word is 'if,' Captain," the Grand Admiral noted, stroking his ysalamiri while simultaneously scanning the deck screen filled with encrypted messages arriving aboard the Guardian from across the Kessel sector. "Let our opponents realize who they are facing and recover from the shock that neither of them is the sole claimant to control of the Kessel system."
And that wouldn't happen until the radiation dissipated from the ships and the sensors came online...
That took time.
Not much, but still...
"Oh," the Grand Admiral smiled with satisfaction, watching barely visible flashes of turbolaser fire flicker between the two groups of ships. "It has begun."
Well...
Quite ingenious on the part of the Dominion's Supreme Commander.
Luring two competitors into one system and making them fight each other for the right to deal with the Dominion.
Ingenious.
"We only have to watch as they tear each other apart," Pellaeon voiced the presumed plan of action.
"It would be pleasant to enjoy such a spectacle," Thrawn agreed, his gaze fixed on the two enemy fleets exchanging fire. "But we are hospitable hosts and cannot allow our guests to be deprived of the attention of our turbolasers. Begin target allocation for our Scimitars and Avengers, Captain. It's time to inform both parties that they are not welcome here."
"Yes, sir!" the commander of the Guardian replied, not without enthusiasm. "Order the fleet to begin moving toward the enemy?"
"Of course, Captain," Thrawn said. "Order the fleet to commence closing with the Alliance and Syndicate ships. We wouldn't want to scare off the enemy reserves."
"No, we wouldn't," Pellaeon agreed, trying to figure out how those two statements were even connected.
But he couldn't find the answer.