Chapter 7: A New Mission (Patreon)

Warning this Chapter contains explicit content, if you wish to skip it go to the first dash symbol.

Celeste’s eyes flickered open tiredly, her body feeling exhausted in a strange way she had never felt before, as muscles she had never been aware of ached for the first time, even as something wet trailed down her inner thigh, the same wetness that made her feel full on the inside.

Celeste looked about for the moment, not comprehending what she was searching for, till her mind woke fully as she realized she was alone in her bed. Admittedly, she didn’t quite remember how she had gotten to it, but if nothing else, the feeling of her body indicated that it hadn’t been a dream.

Celeste flicked about the room for a moment, noting the sun gleaming in through the one-way window shining off her nude body, revealing the incriminating evidence of what had happened last night: pale skin marred by small marks on her breasts, both pairs of her lips reddened and abused in different manners.

Slowly, she sat up, stretching out in the force as she did so, her mind instantly melding against her Padawan’s, and she realized he was meditating in his own room.

Staggering off the side of the bed, a new soreness exerted itself in the muscles of her thighs; she stood up, hesitating a moment, wondering if she should get dressed before discarding the idea, knowing that it made no real difference.

With slow, staggering steps onto the cool stone floor, embedding its lack of warmth into her feet, she exited into the dining area and then to the archway of Jacen’s bedroom, where she laid eyes on him.

He wasn’t wearing a stitch of clothing, his eyes closed, and his legs crossed, his palms relaxedly open as his lightsaber, in pieces, floated in the air around him, spread out like a cluster of asteroids, his ice blue kyber crystal rotating in front of him, almost seeming to gleam in the morning light.

Celeste released a small breath, unsure of whether the noise was of relief or disappointment.

“You didn’t leave,” Celeste observed quietly. “You didn’t let the Jedi do as needed,” she said, remembering a time, now long ago, when a Tarisian corporal infected by the Rakgoul plague met her end on her saber.

When she was a creature of duty and little else, when the galaxy had still made some sort of sense.

A flicker of something, close to exasperation, came across their bond, and Celeste looked up as Jacen spoke for the first time, darkened brown meeting pale blue, “You didn’t fall to the dark side, did you?”

There was concern in his eyes, not even attempting to be hidden, concern for her. She could deal with her own feelings, but this… “We’re Master and Padawan; it’s an unacceptable breach of our bond,” she said quietly. Jacen raised an eyebrow at her almost challengingly.

Celeste shook her head, answering his statement before it could be made, “Maybe I’m fine now, but it can’t be certain to last, the talisman.” Celeste hesitated before shaking her head, the guilt now becoming crushing, “Did too much damage.”

Jacen frowned, shaking his head even as the parts of his lightsaber continued to peacefully orbit him, “You’re not broken, Celeste,” he said quietly, before she raised a finger at him, gesturing for him to be silent.

Celeste frowned and shook her head continuing, “And maybe, maybe if I was a better Jedi-” she hesitated shaking her head, “But I’m not, I was a member of an organization called the Covenant and in their service thinking I was keeping safe the galaxy from artifacts of the Sith I did things,” Celeste released all of the air in her lungs, “Many things I’m not proud of.”

Jacen kept looking at her calmly, seemingly waiting for her to finish her words, but she didn’t know how to. There was almost too much to say, but at the same time, it all felt unimportant, especially if these were the last words they said to each other.

They would have to be separated for everyone’s sake, and Celeste found herself recognizing, for that moment, why the voices against the reformation were so viciously opposed to those who wanted to forbid attachment. Even as she herself, back after the attack on Ossus, had been firmly a reformer herself, seeing the Great Sith War as she had.

This hurt, this really hurt, not in the way her inner muscles did in an almost pleasant achy way, but a pain burning in her chest, choking, clogging her ability to speak.

Finally, Jacen spoke as it became clear she wasn’t going to continue, “First, I’m going to make some things clear,” he said slowly, looking her calmly in the eyes, “Nothing you say is going to change the fact that we’re Master and Padawan.”

Celeste flinched, her gut turning as he echoed her own words back to her, reversing them for his own purpose.

“But right now, I want to be clear that I have no issue with what happened last night, you didn’t break or taint me, I helped you not only because as your Jedi Padawan I’m here to care for you as much as you care for me, but because I ‘care’,” he used the word again emphasizing its different use this time, “about you Celeste and I will do whatever it takes to make sure you don’t fall to the dark side.”

Celeste blinked her eyes, widening as she regarded her Padawan, who gave her a warm, gentle smile, his eyes curling upward in the motion, “Now you can finish your speech about how we can no longer be Master and Padawan.”

Celeste nodded slowly, catching up for a moment before a scowl tore across her face, or at least that’s what she hoped it looked like, because his words had stirred bubbles of warmth in her gut, so a womanly pout was straining to take its place.

“Honestly,” she released a long breath, something warm somehow slipping into her tone, shaking her head, “Perhaps Master Yoda was right; you’re very much too willful,” her voice was slightly shaky as she said those words.

Jacen chuckled, a deep-sounding thing that vibrated harmoniously with somewhere in Celeste’s chest.

“Forgive your Padawan; he still has much to learn,” he raised an eyebrow at her, almost challengingly.

Celeste hesitated, the word poking at her again. Finally, she spoke quietly, “Thank you for taking care of me, Jacen,” before releasing a now shakier breath, and she reached out through the bond she had tried to hold herself back from, letting out a sigh as the familiar cool current flickered over her.

Jacen shook his head before he frowned somewhat. “It can’t be helped, I think, especially with the events of yesterday; I’d be astonished for you not to have a brush.”

Celeste shrugged her shoulder idly, noting for the briefest of moments that Jacen’s eyes trailed down. She felt a burst of heat on her face, and she bit her lip even as she shifted her shoulders and back muscles in a way that was purposely unfamiliar as she looked at him. Smiling a bit to herself as his eyes flicked down again, she felt the peaks on her chest beginning to harden slightly.

“You won’t report to the Council?” Celeste asked, keeping her tone free from any inflection.

Jacen shook his head, a frown now crossing onto his face, but it wasn’t directed at her. “It’s not something that concerns them,” he said quietly, “you had a brush, but you weren’t in any real danger of falling.”

Celeste cocked her head to the side, examining him, her eyes tracing his form idly. “How did you prevent my fall?” she asked.

Jacen gave her a relaxed smile, shrugging his shoulders, “I have a technique I use; I don’t really have a word for it, but in essence, I keep my emotions and my mind separate. I allow my emotions to surface against the ice; I acknowledge them, but I don’t let them control me.”

Celeste frowned at Jacen. “So that’s how you maintain your balance,” she murmured quietly before shaking her head. “And that’s what you did for me,” she said. “You allowed my emotions to enter you but prevented them from overpowering me.”

Jacen nodded a small smile, turning his lips up into a grin, “Yeah, pretty much,” before his cheeks colored slightly, “I wasn’t sure it would work, but the Force told me what I had to do, so I did so, I-” he shook his head, “Well I really just submerged myself in it, like I would in battle.”

“The Force,” Celeste said hesitantly, “Told you to sleep with me?” she asked, and despite the way she phrased the question, there was no dry wit attached, even though she desperately wanted to add it due to the absurdity of his statement.

Jacen grimaced and nodded, something like guilt emerging on his face, “I wasn’t sure at first,” he admitted quietly, “I felt like I was taking advantage of you, but the Force was pretty clear in the moment if I didn’t for some reason I wouldn’t be able to stabilize you,” he shrugged, “or at least that’s what the Force was telling me,” she felt their bond flicker and for a brief moment Celeste felt a small turning of doubt from her Padawan and the smile he had seemed slightly more fixed.

Still his gaze was meeting her steadily, and his mind remained open to her even as she felt the moment where he warred with himself to close again.

Celeste truthfully believed him on his word alone; his mind was fully open to her right now, and she could feel the truth of his words regardless, though it now stung somewhat in her chest, and her cheeks reddened. “I’m sorry, I’ve burdened you,” she said quietly.

Jacen’s face turned into a scowl, and he reached a hand out. The Force surrounded her, and Celeste had a brief moment of shock at how powerful the grip was, overpowering the natural aversion of biological life to be gripped and controlled by the Force as she was pulled forward an inch above the floor to collide into Jacen’s arms, which encircled her, the pieces of his lightsaber somehow having made a path for her.

Her cheeks flushed a bright red now, caught in Jacen’s grip, her breasts pushing against his chest while she sat cradled in his lap, looking up at him.

Jacen was looking down at her with a wry twitch to his lips, while Celeste’s own mouth was open; her lips opened slightly as her breathing accelerated against her will.

Jacen shook his head, “Don’t be silly, you act like it was a burden to sleep with an attractive woman whom I care about,” he cocked his head to the side, “though perhaps the circumstances could have been better,” he admitted, “I have no regrets,” before he raised an eyebrow at her, “as long as you don’t aside from whatever Jedi guilt you seem to be exhibiting.”

Celeste’s lips formed into a pout as, despite herself, her arms reached up to wrap around Jacen’s shoulders. “It’s not that simple, my very much still learning apprentice. I’m your Master, and while I didn’t fall to the dark side, I broke a bond of trust with you.”

Jacen frowned at her, “You barely endured a brush with the dark side. Is there something you wouldn’t do to help me endure that as well?”

Celeste frowned and looked away, which really just meant looking down at his chest, which really wasn’t that much safer an option.

“It’s going to be fine, Celeste,” Jacen said, and Celeste startled against him, not expecting to hear her name like that, a gentle carrying undertone to it that a true Jedi shouldn’t need.

Which Celeste absorbed anyway, hot wetness beginning to prickle at her eyes, using her arms around his shoulders, she pulled herself up so she was face to face with Jacen, their lips centimeters away, “Could you show me why again?” she murmured, her eyes locking with his even as she felt his breath brushing gently across her face, almost unconsciously she licked her lips.

Jacen smiled a soft smile and, slowly giving her time to withdraw, brushed his lips against hers, his almost rough, dry lips brushing against her own, which she had just moistened.

Celeste suppressed a soft groan as her nipples brushed his chest, stiffening in an achy sort of way as her vagina sent a stinging protest to the rest of her body as her nether lips slowly became engorged with arousal.

Of course, just because she had suppressed the audible sound didn’t mean that Jacen hadn’t instantly felt her discomfort.

He kissed her once again, a soft, gentle, feathery thing, before drawing back, giving her a gentle smile. “Maybe that can wait,” he said quietly. “I don’t want to hurt you,” he said.

Celeste grimaced as she shifted in his lap to face him fully, straddling him, letting his gradually hardening cock rest against her pubic mound as it grew up to extend over her abdomen, the thick hardening shaft sending heated arousal through her in a new but now familiar way.

“Then I’ll lead,” she said quietly, giving her Padawan a soft smile before bracing herself and then lifting herself up, flexing her legs and abdomen as she centered herself over the head of his penis, letting herself slide slightly down so the head pressed against her still sore red pussy lips splitting her apart slightly and she hissed both in electrical tingles of pleasure and at the smallest amount of discomfort as she was stretched.

“Celeste,” Jacen said quietly, his voice tinged with concern.

Celeste shook her head before shooting Jacen a weak glare, “This is your fault; no penis needs to be this large for the purposes of reproduction.”

Jacen raised an eyebrow at her, an amused twitch on his lips, “I don’t know whether I’m supposed to apologize for that,” he replied blandly.

Celeste growled and instinctively nipped his collarbone lightly with her teeth as she slowly sank down on his shaft, her pussy embarrassingly lubricated for an act which she had initiated seemingly suddenly.

Jacen released a small breath in her ear, and a smile curved across Celeste’s lips as she drew back a bit to look Jacen fully in the face as her progress slowed to a halt that same awful inch free of her as she felt the head of his dick embedding firmly against her cervix, a jolt of pleasure shooting through her that almost caused her to spasm.

“That’s-” Celeste took a deep breath, attempting to ignore how tightly she was coiling around her Padawan, “that’s better, isn’t it?” she hummed, smiling at Jacen, fluttering her eyelashes at him.

Jacen sighed, raising an eyebrow at her grimacing, “This isn’t great for me as far as self-control goes, Celeste,” he replied, looking at her with an almost cross expression, though it was truthfully far too amused for that.

Celeste leaned into him, letting her breasts squash against his chest, conforming to his firm muscles as she began to slowly roll her hips, riding him at a slow, almost relaxed pace, her insides tensing and straining around him as her sore muscles still desperately pushed themselves against her Padawan's cock.

“Who said I was testing your self-control?” she said dryly, arching an eyebrow at him as she looked up at him, “I believe this test is one of physical endurance.”

“That wasn’t tested enough last night?” Jacen replied dryly, amusement stretching onto his face as his hands settled onto her hips, beginning to help her raise and lift off of him as she rolled herself against him.

Celeste released a breathy, almost moan, at the new motion, grinding against her walls. “Perhaps it was beginner's luck,” she shrugged her shoulders, making sure her breasts shifted with the motion to draw his attention.

“I thought Jedi didn’t believe in luck,” Jacen murmured quietly, eyeing her with a darkening gaze.

Celeste felt a smile stretch across her face as she shivered, clenching against Jacen’s cock, “Perhaps,” she moaned before stretching her neck up to bite at his neck gently, “Though maybe there’s something to it if a Jedi Initiate can find a sarcophagus lost for thousands of years, hmmm?”

Something flickered through Jacen’s eyes, a thought almost too fast to see, but Celeste was pressed so close to her Padawan right now that it couldn’t escape her.

She didn’t ask as she continued to slowly, languidly ride him.

There would be time enough for that later.

-

A Jedi Master’s sex drive was apparently not something to be underestimated. Perhaps to be expected from someone who lived in a martial discipline with their body enhanced by the Force, but still I hadn’t expected our relations to take up the better part of the morning, only for them to eventually be stopped by the happenings of the day needing our attention. Celeste had gone to talk to Master Windu to debrief fully regarding the events of yesterday, while I went to the last place in the world I wanted to go.

I flipped through the records of the library on a terminal screen side by side with another terminal screen that had a holonet connection to the current trading being done on the Galactic Market.

I wasn’t sure why it hadn’t occurred to me before, but with Celeste, her words about luck had struck something in me. The thing that could be called luck in this universe I had long since decided was the actions of the Force, and it was those actions I was now wondering about, especially with the latest person placed before me.

An Echani woman situated in an in-between moment of her life who had been close to the enemy's confidence. Such a woman could potentially, as much as it pained me to think it, be useful in beginning to move against the Sith.

I was a Jedi; that would never change, yet as I gave it more thought, the position of one was inherently limiting to a somewhat worrisome degree. How long had I waited for the Force to tell me my next move as a Jedi stuck in the temple? I could certainly do good moving about on a singular basis, but especially with my new realizations, I was worried that it wasn’t enough.

I needed more information; that was a certainty, but I also needed the ability to act on it. As of now, I was still limited by the resources of the Order.

In comparison, someone like the now Count Dooku had far more access to anything he needed. I had thought myself getting ready for a war, but perhaps because there was nothing else I could do about it at the time, I had resigned myself to the idea that I would only have the resources that the Republic gave me.

Was that necessarily true?

Could I change that?

I stilled, realizing I had navigated to an archived news release about the Katana Fleet summarizing its construction and subsquent disappearance.

I frowned, looking at the article for a moment, contemplating why I had been led there; from a broader perspective, I knew that the fleet still existed, though right now that wasn’t particularly helpful. Regardless of the fact that it existed, I had neither the means to find exactly where it was nor, upon finding it, would I be able to crew it or, likely, even simply move the fleet.

I considered the article for a moment longer before hesitantly navigating away from it; that kind of firepower, maybe in the moment, might seem like a good idea, especially since I was hilariously almost hopelessly outgunned.

Yet it wasn’t a shooting war yet; there were still steps I could take in that regard.

What was it I actually needed?

The thought hadn’t truly occurred to me before this moment, but I realized it was almost circular what I needed; I needed intelligence, and I needed resources to capitalize on that intelligence; yet I needed more information if I was to gain resources, and to gain information I needed resources.

Either way, perhaps the first step had been given to me with Brianna.

I rose to my feet, exiting the terminal with a couple of taps before I left the library entirely, seemingly just in time as my commlink chirped and I pulled it out, answering it with a click. “Sol,” I said as I began to walk the floors of the temple.

“Padawan,” came Windu’s brusque voice, “You’re expected at the Council Chambers.”

“Yes, Master,” I replied, completely calm, not concerned in the slightest whether my indiscretions had potentially been discovered, if for no other reason than I could feel the fact that Celeste was still calm, calmer than she had been since I met her.

The temple was large enough that my journey took me the better part of twenty minutes even though I hadn’t even really been on the opposite side of it.

Disembarking the lift outside the Council Chambers, I took a moment to feel inside of them, sensing Celeste easily, along with Master Windu, Master Yoda, and several other presences of Masters, judging by their strength that I was less familiar with.

I stepped through the doors of the chamber as they hissed open, feeling the eyes of the Jedi inside on me, though I didn’t shrink at their gazes.

Celeste stood with her arms crossed, her face set neutrally, her presence composed, draped in the brown robes common among the Jedi.

I stepped up to her side, and while she did not physically react, I felt a small current of energy from her run soothingly along my mind.

“Masters,” I bowed my head, my hands joined with each other, before I settled into position, crossing my arms behind me as I stood at ease.

Even as I did so, I let my eyes become unfocused, reaching out with the Force, traversing the entirety of the room attempting to verify whether there was a bug inside. The sensation I got from the Force was clear in that at least here, now that the room’s door was sealed, we would not be heard.

I could only hope that was true.

“Now that we are assembled,” Windu said quietly, though one did not need to speak loudly in this chamber to be heard, “We have the matter of yesterday's events to deal with; Master Morne has informed us fully of what transpired, so I will open with the question of the Sun Guard and what exactly they were doing on Coruscant,” he said his deep baritone traversing the room.

It was Master Plo Koon who spoke first, braced in his chair like he wished to rise to his feet at any moment, his voice sounding almost robotic coming from his mask, “We know that the Echani of the Sun Guard often take work to guard important figures, I am unsure that much importance can be given to their being on Coruscant, with the recent disturbances within the Senate and murmuring of sucession from the Republic I would be more surprised if there weren’t a multitude of mercenary groups moving in the shadows.”

Master Shaak Ti looked at Master Plo Koon with a strange expression on her red-tinted skin, “Jedi do not believe in coincidence,” she chided lightly, “It is passing strange that this Master Padawan pair have had two encounters with two of the galaxy's highly skilled mercenary groups within so short a time, mercenary groups with seemingly incredibly high resources.”

It was strange, and in my own mind I could only wonder which Sith was responsible. Taking for granted my theory was correct, and that there were at least two in existence, Sidious made more sense from the overt moves; Plagueis, from what I understood, was far more cautious and far more involved with the mysteries of the Force.

It was a bit like having grabbed a Nexu by the tail; once someone had grasped it, somehow avoiding the attached spikes, then the question became what exactly did you do next?

Still, did I say something now? There was a moment of silence, and I saw fractals spreading out from this moment, almost too many to count, some changes small, some massive.

Yoda grumbled, tapping his gimer stick against the ground, drawing the attention of the room to the Grandmaster of the Order. “One whose advice, discount not we should, before us is,” his eyes settled on me, an amused smile turning his lips up.

The room was silent for a long moment as the Masters digested Yoda’s words.

Ki-Adi-Mundi cocked his head to the side, seemingly in interest, “The boy?” he said somewhat a question but more musing than anything.

Yoda nodded his head and tapped his stick again for emphasis, “Speak,” he ordered me.

He knew what I had said to Windu.

I began, “Masters, we live in times where many words are said in the Senate on the state of the Republic. Some note its opulence while others point to the decay underneath. There are even words and discussions about secession from the Republic itself.”

The room was absolutely silent even as I spoke on a topic the Masters were well aware of, but seemingly by the attention Yoda, Windu, and now the small head of Yarael Poof that was enough for the rest of the Masters to listen, even if not with open minds.

I hadn’t succeeded with Kenobi, and even now I didn’t expect to succeed with the Masters.

But if even one Master paid some heed to my words…

“I am concerned.” I repeated the same words I had said to Windu the other day: “I have spoken with Master Kenobi on the Sith she faced, and her description has given form to a shadow in my mind, I am concerned that the Sith have returned under the awareness of the Jedi, that even now they have engineered events to one conclusion which was ever their goal, the destruction of the Jedi and the domination of the Galaxy.”

The Force within the room rippled as I said those words, and while they were all Jedi masters and thus above shifting with unease, the tension my words created now settled in the air.

No one spoke for a long time; there was no outraged outburst, but I did not feel belief or certainty either.

Yoda spoke first, “Proof you have of this?” he questioned.

This was where things got complicated; I had experienced proof, but proof of the actual physical sort was out of my reach.

Or was it? After all, beneath this very temple sat one of the instruments blinding the Jedi at this very moment.

Yet the same reason I hadn’t told anyone of its existence before reared up in my head: once I did so, I was unleashing a chain of events I would have no control over; perhaps the Sith would do nothing; perhaps they would attempt to seize immediate control of the Government, already one of them was Supreme Chancellor.

I centered myself, reaching out into the Force, the darkness peeling back away from my touch in a moment, and for the first time of my own conscious will I saw this shatterpoint of the future.

Both futures were somewhat amorphous, changes to what had been reflecting all the way down, things that perhaps never were disappearing.

I frowned, thinking for a moment longer before I made my decision, ultimately based on one fact.

Qui-Gon Jinn had been killed for a reason.

“Beneath this temple there is a Sith Shrine,” I said, ignoring the sensation of the Masters startling at my words, though there was no real surprise in the actual knowledge, more that I knew it at all, “The Jedi Order long ago attempted to seal it, and we believed we succeeded,” I shook my head, “We did not, it is in relation that it once was a vergence of the light side and its corruption to the dark that has helped inhibit the Jedi and our ability to see the future.”

Shaak Ti frowned, “That is impossible, and even if it were true, that would not be enough to cloud our vision.”

I nodded my head, “You’re right; it was a work done perhaps over many centuries, but in effect it does not matter. The Jedi are blind, and without our foresight we have no way to decide on how to move forward.”

Master Windu frowned at me, “But you have seen paths forward recently, haven’t you.” he said as a statement, not a question, as he began to draw forth what I was now saying.

I nodded my head, looking to each of the Masters in turn, “I do not claim to have more extensive knowledge or mastery of the Force than any of you Masters, but from what I have sensed and felt I have determined that for some reason the darkness of the Galaxy does not weigh as heavily on me as it does the rest of the Jedi.”

Which, if I had to give a reason for, was that while I was Echani and a Jedi, a part of the galaxy and its life, in the end I was also from another galaxy far, far away from here.

Ki-Adi-Mundi spoke again, “You are asking for us to take much on faith, young Padawan,” he said seriously, and I noted how he emphasized my relative youth, almost purposefully.

I kept a sigh in as I met the man’s gaze seriously, “I know that; I know I have neither the right nor experience to justify my words, but Masters, can you deny that it is not passing strange that in a galaxy seemingly without Sith the strength of the Jedi has been weakened so? That a Republic that has stood for so long splits at the seams despite our best efforts? Even right-hearted intentions seem to go wrong because, in part, it is now possible to trick Jedi who should be assured of their own vision? How even as Guardians of the Republic we seem to be used as a political piece more often than not for ends none of us would countenance?”

The Force fracture I was looking at resolved, disappearing, and I stood in the same position, my hands clasped behind my back; a moment of uncertainty flared through me: was it enough? Had I shifted things?

My failure with Master Kenobi sat heavily in the back of my mind.

Windu looked at Yoda, who seemed lost in thought, which I would have believed if I did not feel his Force Presence bearing down on me.

Shaak Ti ran a considering hand down one of her montrals, her eyes locked onto me something considering in her dark orbs, though what I could not guess at.

Ki-Adi-Mundi was rubbing his beard, but it was a thoughtful motion.

Yarael Poof clapped his hands once, drawing the attention of the room to him, “My, it’s been some time since such starry-eyed idealism has infiltrated our chamber,” he said, almost cheerful, before nodding his snake-like head almost to himself, “I believe I am in favor of Master Windu’s motion after all.”

Ki-Adi-Mundi sighed, shaking his head, “It is too great a risk; the order itself may suffer from this decision. I am still against.”

Windu looked at the Cerean, raising an eyebrow seemingly in consideration before he turned to Shaak Ti, “Master Ti?” he asked almost curiously.

Shaak Ti smiled an almost enigmatic thing, sharp teeth glistening, “I am of course still in support.”

Plo Koon hummed cocking his head at Shaak Ti before looking again at Ki-Adi-Mundi, “It is difficult to know where this action will land; I cannot say I am in favor of putting a young Padawan up against a threat like this. I am opposed.”

Windu looked to Yoda, who it seemed had withdrawn from his thoughts, tapping his stick once, “Grandmaster of this Order, I may be; this decision through unclouded eyes, I cannot make,” he said simply.

Windu did not frown, but he did not necessarily look pleased by Yoda’s statement, even as I could not help but notice how Yoda had made Windu the deciding vote, the man who had most advocated seemingly for whatever this was.

“As I brought the motion, I am of course in support,” he said, simply crossing his arms for a moment as the decision settled over the room. “The vote passes three to two,” Windu said before looking at Celeste, “As we discussed, Master Morne, you are to be reactivated as a Jedi Shadow; you will only answer to this Council. Unless you receive explicit instruction from me, you are not to deviate as to your assigned objective; that is to discover the source of the veil of the dark side and, if possible, destroy it.”

The Council Chamber was silent for a long moment as the attention fell upon my Master, who seemed remarkably unbothered. “Of course, Master Windu,” she said calmly before she looked at me, and I noted behind her impassive mask her eyes gleamed slightly. “We’ll do what needs to be done,” she said firmly.

Master Windu nodded, and I saw the briefest look of righteous vindication in his eyes. “May the Force be with both of you,” he said solemnly.

We both bowed lightly before we turned and exited the chamber together, walking side by side till we arrived at the turbolift and entered the door, shutting behind us as we began to travel downward.

I waited a minute, wondering if Celeste would actually speak her mind or not.

The silence stretched, and I decided that, considering everything and what the Force was telling me right now, the security of our words within the elevator was safe; I needed to unearth a couple of things.

“I should have been more upfront with you,” I admitted, quietly shaking my head, “I know there was a lot of information I said back there that I hadn’t told you yet.”

Celeste turned to look up at me, a small smile on her face. “You’re not the only one who's kept secrets,” she returned before shaking her head, the smile straining, “But perhaps I was a bit surprised by how much you knew; you truly do suspect the Sith have boxed us in, don’t you?”

“I’m as sure as I can be,” I grimaced, “Yet even with this new freedom to pursue it, I worry it’s not enough; the Sith have stayed hidden for a thousand years, and it is only recently the Jedi have even had a hint that one survived, only for that Sith to die before any answers were gained.”

Celeste nodded, a gentle smile emerging onto her face, tinged slightly with the barest of traces of pain, “All I can really say is that in my time hunting for Sith Artifacts, even the creations of the Sith can have minds of their own; once you begin to hunt Sith, you are stepping firmly onto their territory.”

I frowned and looked at her, “What was your solution?”

Celeste looked away, not speaking for a moment, “I didn’t have one,” she said quietly, “All I could do was trust in the Force and hope each time that I went searching that something larger than I expected would not end up in my net,” she hesitated, “I was wrong the last time with the Muur Talisman,” she turned to look at me giving me a somewhat strained smile, “I believe there are better odds this time though.”

I looked at her, surprised. “Oh?”

Celeste smiled, an enigmatic thing, before she suddenly stood on her toes and leaned her head up, letting her lips brush against my ear. “I have you,” she replied before a gentle kiss brushed against my cheek and she settled once again on the floor.

I was about to respond only for the Force to warn me the lift was stopping and for the doors to open, leaving Celeste to look at me with an amused raise of her eyebrow before she exited the elevator, almost sauntering- well, at least what for a Jedi counted as a saunter.

I sighed, shaking my head, “She’s going to be the death of me,” I remarked to myself before following after her into the quiet halls of the temple.

-

In deep space, a massive black object moved with all the efficiency of an underwater predator slowly swimming through the ocean.

It could be considered a frightening starship, one of dangerous proportions and bristling with weapons, but in truth the most dangerous thing about it was not armaments, or its technology, but the man who sat inside, leaning back on an obsidian throne that few had ever seen.

Within a room that was absent of all light aside from the softly flowing rows of crimson pyramids, the True Lord of the Sith resided.

Darth Plagueis found himself, for the first time in a long time, curious. For one who had delved into the mysteries of the Force, for one who had discovered knowledge far beyond mortal ken, curiosity was not something he felt very often these days.

There had been a time when this lack of curiosity had perpetuated an ennui that had almost subsumed him, where he had been tempted to let his apprentice take his rightful place as Lord of the Sith after life itself had seemed to have lost meaning without any sign that he had been able to reach closer into the mysteries of the Force.

How foolish, how unbecoming of the Sith he was. Certainly, while he had no indication that his attempt had succeeded, he had found something in many ways better; while perhaps a forced convergence was impossible, there was nothing to say False Prophecy could not become real.

One of his wayward Sun Guards had fled a not-so-subtle attempt from his apprentice and in doing so brought him to this conclusion.

It had only been for a brief moment, but he had sensed this new wonderful creature, pulsating with the Force, drawing it in as it moved while seemingly returning far more as it walked. He had read and studied wounds in the Force, but this was like its opposite, almost like a heart.

It made him wonder and think what the result would be from his created convergence and this strange, wonderful creature that somehow remained hidden from his vision. He had directed his convergence as was his right and sent spiraling searching tendrils to find this more organic one.

Only for his threads to be broken; almost negligently, his webs were torn apart, and while he had decimated his surroundings in a fury, he at the same time had felt absolute rapturous joy.

He could truly see it now in his mind's eye: the convergence of the Sith and their teachings versus this new thing which he could only assume to be Jedi.

All because his wayward apprentice had made a mistake, one simple mistake; truly, this anger he felt was almost enough to make him exultant, to be thwarted unknowingly by the craven coward who had attempted to end his life in his bed.

Not that he, of course, blamed his apprentice for such; if he had managed it, it would have only been right according to the Rule of Two.

Yet it was that very rule now he was beginning to find far too constraining. Darth Bane may have been right at the time, but even now he had to darken his presence to avoid not just his wayward apprentice but also the searching of this new presence.

How could he possibly be expected to study the Force further in conditions like these? It simply wasn’t proper.

So unfortunately he had come to the conclusion that he rather needed several more apprentices, perhaps even an order of them. Then one by one he could sacrifice his new pawns to draw out this organic thing from hiding; if it was a Jedi, it wouldn’t let innocents die; if it wasn’t a Jedi, then his subversion would be even easier.

After all, he had long realized that his original creation had been all too easily subverted by Darth Sidious, so it was only appropriate that he develop his own tool.

But while Darth Sidious thought himself cunning and conniving, Darth Plagueis knew he truly was far too much a blunt instrument to appreciate this new game.

His foolish apprentice had thought himself the heir to the Sith and all it entailed, playing mere political games for power over a decrepit institution nearing collapse. How could such be called an achievement when compared to the power of the Dark Side?

Compared to his own power? A Sith capable of reaching halfway across the galaxy in a mere instant.

It was a laughable challenge at best, but he knew that ending Sidious would simply be too much effort and too much risk on his own part. So the game would continue; he would subvert Sidious’s pawns, he would delay his apprentice’s war, and in doing so would demonstrate far more ability and knowledge than any of his predecessors.

He refused to submit to a weaker apprentice and Sidious’s use now that the insufferable man had exposed the Sith with that useless creature he had labeled as his apprentice; Plagueis’s patience had long run short.

The only real question that he still had was which vergence would he take? The organic of his creation?

Perhaps it would best be done as all things done by Sith; he would pit them against each other, and whichever lived he would finally take as his apprentice.

And then after a thousand years of the Banite order, it would be Darth Plagueis who finally put an end to the Jedi once and for all.