**Chapter 176 – Embers of Victory**
The fires of Muunilinst had begun to die.
Not completely—smoke still curled into the sky from shattered districts, and the glow of scattered wreckage burned faintly across the horizon—but the battle itself was over. What remained was the aftermath.
And the aftermath… was always quieter.
I stood on an elevated platform overlooking one of the primary landing zones as lines of prisoners were escorted toward Republic transports. Muun officials in long, pristine robes—now dirt-stained and wrinkled—moved stiffly under guard, their composure reduced to hollow silence. Beside them, Neimoidian overseers fidgeted nervously, their usual arrogance stripped away by the reality of defeat.
Blasters remained trained.
Orders remained sharp.
There would be no mistakes now.
Below, the final phases of consolidation were underway. After the shutdown signal had been activated, the remaining droid forces had simply… stopped. Entire battalions froze mid-march, weapons lowering lifelessly as their processors went dark.
Efficient.
Clean.
Total.
"Last sector clear," a clone officer reported over comms. "All droid resistance neutralized."
"Confirmed," I replied.
The Republic had already begun transitioning from combat operations to occupation protocol. High Command had issued direct orders—prisoners were to be transported to Coruscant immediately for interrogation and processing.
I didn't question it.
But I didn't trust it either.
Across the field, massive cargo operations were already in motion. The *Terminus* loomed above, its hangar bays open as captured equipment was loaded aboard in massive quantities.
AAT tanks.
Droid components.
Weapon systems.
Anything that could be repurposed.
Anything that could be improved.
Anything that could be turned against the enemy.
Even as High General, I knew better than to rely entirely on the Republic's supply chain.
Or the Chancellor.
If this war was going to end quickly—
I would need my own resources.
My own edge.
My own control.
"Sir."
I turned slightly.
Captain Fordo approached, helmet under his arm.
"Report."
"Master Buck Sirrus and his Padawan have arrived," he said. "They're approaching now."
Of course they were.
Late.
I nodded once. "Understood."
Fordo hesitated for a fraction of a second, then added, "Fleet is secured. No further resistance."
"Good."
He stepped back.
I turned my attention forward again.
And waited.
---
They didn't take long.
The Jedi always moved with purpose.
Master Buck Sirrus stepped into view first.
Older than me, though not by much—mid-thirties, perhaps. His features were sharp, his presence composed, but there was something beneath it. Something restrained.
Judgment.
His Padawan followed just behind him.
Seventeen.
Blonde.
Observant.
Curious.
Her eyes moved constantly, taking in everything.
I recognized them, vaguely.
In another timeline—
They wouldn't have made it this far.
But that wasn't this war.
And this war—
Was mine.
"General Dagon," Buck said as he approached.
His tone was measured.
Careful.
"I see you've completed your assignment."
A brief pause.
"Three hours," he added. "That was… impressive."
Almost approval.
Almost.
I inclined my head slightly. "Efficiency matters."
His gaze shifted past me—toward the damaged skyline, the distant smoke, the scattered debris still falling faintly through the atmosphere.
And there it was.
The change.
"Still," he continued, "your methods…"
His voice hardened slightly.
"…leave much to be desired."
I said nothing.
He stepped closer.
"Numerous structures demolished. Unknown civilian impact."
A pause.
"That is not the Jedi way."
There it was.
Not unexpected.
I reached to my belt slowly.
Not for a weapon.
But for something else.
Two lightsabers.
Taken from the fallen.
Corrupted.
Dark.
I held them out in front of me.
And then—
I purified them.
The light came instantly.
Brilliant.
Radiant.
The corrupted energy burned away, replaced with something clean, something balanced, something *whole*. The transformation was visible, undeniable—the crimson glow fading into clear, luminous tones.
Even I had to admit—
It was brighter this time.
Stronger.
More controlled.
More hidden.
The dark side recoiled beneath it.
Always.
Silence followed.
Buck stared.
His Padawan blinked rapidly.
Then—
A laugh.
"You can't keep doing that every time someone accuses you of being a Sith."
Her voice was light.
Teasing.
Honest.
I allowed the faintest hint of a smile.
"True," I said. "But it's the easiest example."
I turned slightly.
Then extended last of the corrupted sabers toward her.
"Here."
She froze.
Buck's expression shifted instantly.
"General—"
But she took it.
Carefully.
Almost reverently.
The moment her hand closed around the hilt, she stiffened slightly—feeling it, sensing it.
Clean.
Balanced.
Alive.
Her eyes widened.
I spoke quietly.
"Remember the moment between rage and serenity."
A pause.
"Hold on to warm thoughts."
She didn't respond immediately.
But she nodded.
Slowly.
Buck, however, was not so easily convinced.
His gaze moved between the saber… and me.
Suspicion remained.
As it should.
Then—
Without warning—it purified, another flash of light
The Padawan moved.
A sudden, sharp motion.
She kissed my helmet
Silence followed.
She blinked.
"…Sorry."
I didn't move.
Air touched my face again.
Unrestricted.
Her expression shifted slightly as she looked at me properly now.
Then—
Curiosity.
"Question," she said.
Buck shot her a look.
She ignored it.
"Why does your armor look like… Marauder armor? From the old Empire wars?"
I paused.
Of all the questions—
That one.
I almost laughed.
"Well," I began, "the easiest answer is—"
"Sir!"
A sharp interruption cut through the moment.
A comms officer rushed forward.
"Emergency transmission!"
Everything shifted instantly.
"Report," I said.
"Urgent distress call from Jedi Master Daakman Barrek on Hypori."
The name hit immediately.
Buck stepped forward.
"What?"
The transmission crackled to life.
Static.
Then—
A fragmented voice.
"…forces… wiped out… new droid general…"
Gunfire.
Screams.
Then—
Silence.
The signal died.
For a moment—
No one spoke.
Then Buck whispered—
"Master Barrek…"
I didn't need confirmation.
I reached out through the Force.
And felt it.
The echo.
Faint.
Dying.
Gone.
"He's dead," I said quietly.
The words landed like a weight.
No denial.
No argument.
Just truth.
I turned immediately.
"Puck."
"Yes, sir."
"Ready the *Scimitar*."
"Already on standby."
"Fordo."
He snapped to attention.
"Load your troops. Immediate deployment."
"Yes, sir!"
"Ragnos," I continued, activating my comm.
The Zabrak captain appeared instantly.
"Prepare the *Terminus* for hyperspace."
"Coordinates?"
"Hypori."
A brief pause.
Then—
"Understood."
Behind me, Buck stepped forward.
"General, we should coordinate with the Council—"
I cut him off.
"No time."
"This is a Jedi matter—"
"This is a war," I replied sharply.
Silence.
Then—
I turned to face him fully.
"This is an emergency order."
My voice was calm.
But absolute.
"As High General, I am assuming command of this response."
Buck's jaw tightened.
"You will remain here with the fleet."
A pause.
"And await further orders."
Tension hung in the air.
Unresolved.
But there was no time for it.
I turned away.
The decision was already made.
The *Scimitar* awaited.
The ramp lowered as I approached, Puck and the commandos already aboard. Engines hummed with restrained power.
Above us, a sleek shadow cut through the sky.
Ethan.
The modified TIE Silencer fell into position beside the stealth ship.
Always ready.
Always precise.
I stepped onto the ramp.
Didn't look back.
"Launch," I ordered.
The hatch sealed.
The engines ignited.
And within seconds—
We were gone.
Stars stretched into lines once more.
Hyperspace took us.
And whatever waited on Hypori—
We were already too late to prevent it.
But not—
Too late to end it.