History, they say, is written by the winners.

If that is true, then what is history but a patchwork of that which someone wants us to believe? And if history is made to be repeated, then what is repeated – that which actually occurred, or that which was written by the winners?



Theren Gevel firmly shook the hand of Vice-Admiral Vikar, who nodded greeting to Lieutenant Dayvid Tornel as well. The pair had returned from the Senex Sector only minutes earlier, two weeks after the founding of the Senex Confederacy under Imperial rule. Another man stood behind the gray-haired Vikar; a younger, dark-haired man whose rank insignia denoted him as an Admiral and who bore himself with his back as flat as a board.

“This is Admiral Kroth, gentlemen; he is a member of Imperial High Command, and often works directly with the Grand Marshall. I’ve told him all I know about your situation, and he’ll be asking you a few questions.”

Theren and Tornel nodded briskly, and followed Kroth as he led them from the landing bay to a more isolated wing of the Imperial base, and into his office. They sat down at his desk, and Theren observed how well-furnished the room was; filled with plants, pictures, and photographs. All, the Commodore suspected, in an effort to divest them of the notion that they were being interrogated. “So, Commodore Gevel, needless to say, Imperial Command has taken a great interest in the events of the past few days. Firstly, I’d like to congratulate you on your successes in the Senex Sector. It was a damn fine job you did.”

“Thank you, sir,” Theren replied flatly. He wished people would stop doing that.

“Now, first of all, I’d like you to tell me whatever you can about this… Yevethan conspiracy, or whatever you want to call it. We’ll get to how you know about it in a moment.”

“Well, as far as we can tell, there are as many as five hundred Yevethan agents on Coruscant, seemingly in some sort of sleeper cell. From what we’ve seen, they’re just gathering information, and waiting.” Theren shrugged. “Waiting to strike.”

Kroth nodded slowly, making notes on a datapad as Theren spoke. “You have had two direct meetings with Yevethan agents, correct? One was this… Karrix Moraei.”

“Yeah, a Dark Jedi Master of some repute. He was instrumental in the taking of the Senex Sector… evidently, though, he was an agent of the Duskhan League, sent to keep an eye on us. Keep us from digging too deep.”

“Into?”

Theren took a deep breath. “The two attempted and failed occupations of the Senex Sector, by the Empire, in 26 and 13 BBY.”

Admiral Kroth blinked. “There have been no attempted occupations of the Senex Sector, failed or otherwise.”

“That’s what they’d have us believe, yes. From what we found out from Karrix, and from the documents I found on the body of the Yevethan masquerading as an Imperial Intelligence agent here on Coruscant, all record of them was deleted by a ring of Yevethans, and they’ve worked hard to make sure it stays that way.”

“Why?”

“Because it was the Yevethans that stopped us.” Theren waved his hand casually. “It was before Nil Spaar captured the Imperial Super Star Destroyer and went on a rampage with it, but after Imperial occupation in the sector began. A small team of Yevethans fled the Koornacht cluster and established some sort of post on the edge of the Senex Sector – probably because it was the one place they could run where the Empire wouldn’t find them. Whatever they were doing there, they didn’t want the Empire to know about it, and stopped the Empire from occupying parts of Senex twice.”

“You mentioned the Yevethan agent on Coruscant. You killed him? How did you know he wasn’t an Imperial Intelligence operative, if he was wearing a holographic mask?”

Theren shrugged. “Gut reaction. I found a variety of materials in his clothing with a lot of vague references to what I’ve told you so far, but nothing specific. I had to draw my own conclusions until Moraei verified it for us, and since then, I’ve been able to derive much more from the documents.”

“Shooting him was risky.”

Theren shrugged again

“Continue.”

“Well, Nil Spaar came and went, the Duskhan League rose to prominence and, more recently, largely fell from power. But this post in the Senex Sector was forgotten, and so was their work, whatever it is. Recently, though, interest in it was renewed, and it the post was evacuated.”

“How do you know that?”

“Moraei gave Tornel, here, the location of their post. It’s an uncharted planet in the outermost regions of the Senex Sector. We went there, and found a small, abandoned colony. The Yevethan’s recent efforts to keep us from discovering all this stems from their desire to keep their intelligence force on Coruscant a secret, it would seem.”

“And you suppose that these Yevethan operatives indicate an intent to commit hostilities against the Empire -- possibly using whatever method or weapon they developed in the Senex Sector?”

“Yes.”

Admiral Kroth blinked several more times, and looked at his datapad, as if in disbelief. “Well,” he finally said, “I’ll certainly have to pass this along to Imperial Command, before we decide what to do with it. In the meantime, you two are free to go.”

Theren raised an eyebrow. “I was hoping to do something about it.”

“You are free to go, Commodore,” Kroth said again, and Theren stood up.

“Fuck,” he muttered. Just what they needed; a skeptic.

“You have to understand the position you’ve placed Admiral Kroth in, Theren,” Vikar said. “You’ve essentially told him that there is some sort of conspiracy against the Empire taking place directly in our midst. That’s not an easy thing to bring to Imperial Command, especially when they demand facts and you have none to offer.”

“I have facts. The testimony of an Imperial officer should be enough to constitute as fact.” Theren shook his head. “Karrix confessed it all to Tornel. And what he didn’t was on the datapad I found on the dead Yevethan.”

Vikar winced slightly. “Theren, really. Are you prepared to accept the words of an insane Dark Jedi and the vague ramblings of a genocidal sub-human as fact enough to warrant a threat to the Empire?”

“You don’t believe me, either.”

“I believe that you believe what you are saying. And I believe that there is some degree of truth to it – but you have blown this out of proportion. You’ve taken it at face value – and you, as a historian, must know that nothing should be taken at face value.”

“That only applies to history, Vice-Admiral,” Theren said, with a hint of sadness. “This, I am afraid, is very much in the present.”

Vikar sighed and nodded, slowly.

“I think we both know why this is being met with such skepticism. And it has absolutely fuck-all to do with a lack of proof, and you know that. Let’s not pretend, here, sir – if this weren’t coming from Vikar and Gevel, official black sheep of the New Order –”

Before Vikar could respond, the commlink on his desk buzzed, and the old man pressed the answer button, asking mildly, “Yes?”

“It’s Admiral Kroth, sir,” the voice came, pausing uncertainly. “Is Gevel with you?”

“Yes, he is.”

“Report to my office immediately, and bring him with you. There’s something you both should see.”

Vikar glanced warily at Theren, who shrugged.



The two – Theren and Vikar – entered the darkened room like father and son, uniforms identical except for the rank insignias they bore. Both were thin, lanky men; even their features were somewhat similar, though Theren wore vision adjustment spectacles. To most who knew Vikar, that the old Vice-Admiral regarded him as something of a son was obvious. He was a naval prodigy, whose skills had proven almost unmatched among the new, up-and-coming crop of fleet commanders. His career had been immensely successful, thus far, though his rank didn’t betray it.

This, too, was similar to the tale of Vikar’s life. Though Theren never let on as if he knew, the story of Vice-Admiral Quentin Vikar’s professional life had been readily available after a little digging through Imperial records. Once a highly respected Admiral with a large command, an insubordination scandal had rocked his career when he refused the orders of a Grand Admiral. Instead of taking a course of action which would have thrown a large number of troops recklessly at an enemy entrenched in an outlying Imperial system, Vikar had taken an alternate course of action that, while more tactically sound, had ultimately failed, though at a substantially lower cost of human life.

In light of Gevel’s similar rebellion at Dantooine – though it was one which ultimately earned him accolades instead of demotion – Vikar had taken a genuine liking to the younger man, which had resulted in all the more disrespect for Theren in the upper ranks of the Empire. In those circles, he was regarded as Vice-Admiral Vikar’s pupil – a highly talented but uncontrollable and untrustworthy young commodore who would likely never make it past Rear-Admiral, no matter how much territory he conquered.

Theren pretended not to know this, though Tornel – who was the son of a wealthy aristocrat himself, and well-acquainted with many in the upper echelons of the New Order’s rungs of power – had proved an endless source of information on his status. This was, Theren thought, the reason that Kroth wasn’t leaping to do something about the threat. Both Vikar and he knew it, as he’d said.

“Hello, gentlemen,” Kroth said, standing across from them on the other side of a large holoprojector, used as a tactical analysis display. Swirling above the table – which emanated from its surface a blue-white light – was a full-color replica of Coruscant, lights, terrain details, and all. “Ah – if you could have a seat.”

“I’d rather stand,” Vikar said. Theren nodded that he would do the same, which came as no surprise to Kroth. He observed that there was no lack of enmity between the two – and, in his mind, rightfully so. In a perfect world, Kroth would be saluting Vikar. Around the room, several other military officials stood – mostly captains and equivalent ranks, aides to Kroth. They all seemed to regard Vikar and Theren with the same dubious glare that Kroth gave them.

“As you’d have it.” He nodded to Theren. “As you may have guessed, there was some doubt as to the validity of your story. However, and I’ll admit that this was against my better judgment, certain members of the Grand Marshall’s office insisted that it be looked further into. I ran a survey on all regional police forces on Coruscant, and what I found was most… disturbing.”

“Oh, really?”

Kroth ignored the joust. “When Coruscant was taken from the Republic, we assimilated all of their data on the world – and every citizen on it. Most aliens, especially those from species considered dangerous, were put on immediate survey. Their homes were bugged thoroughly.”

“And?”

“And there were a little over five-hundred Yevethan’s under survey, on Coruscant. Spread out over the world. No one had ever bothered to organize this data or realize that there were so many of a species which is xenophobic in the extreme on our capital.”

“What are you getting at, Admiral?” Vikar cut in.

“They’ve all left. In the past month, every last one of them has left.”

Vikar lowered his eyes. “Whatever they were looking for, they’re done, now.”



“We can make several assumptions. First, that the five hundred Yevethans were, in fact, some sort of scouting party. Furthermore, given that the base in Senex was abandoned, we can assume that whatever they were working on there has also been completed, or abandoned. And it must have been important. Finally, given their interest in us during our conquest of the Senex Sector, I think that we can safely assume that their interest in us has increased, not decreased.” Theren paced back and forth nervously, Tornel watching him.

“I agree. What do we do?”

“Whatever we need to do. Vikar has been given full jurisdiction over this, and that has been passed on to us. We’re going to take the fight to the Yevethans.”

“We’re going to invade the Koornacht cluster?”

“Yes, we are.”

Preparations for the fleet commanded by Theren and headed by the Reign Star Destroyer Zenith were made hastily, perhaps too much so, but then, haste was needed. The threat was obvious, and now, it was recognized; all that was left was to act.

The slight damage from the battle at Belsavis and a few minor incidents at Karfeddion was quickly taken care of in the Coruscant drydock. He was briefed again by Kroth and an assortment of military officials, in a meeting which felt more like an interrogation than anything, and was issued final authorization to conduct military action against the Yevetha. One day before their scheduled departure, Theren met one last time with Vice-Admiral Vikar.

“I trust you have sufficiently researched the Yevetha in whatever way you feel is appropriate. Lieutenant Tornel informs me that you tend towards researching the histories of particular worlds, much as Thrawn researched their art.”

Theren smirked. “I was done before I arrived on Coruscant.”

“Right,” Vikar said. “I should have known. It’s what I would’ve done.” The older man sat back, his gray hair illuminated to white by the shimmering Coruscant sun outside the office window. “This meeting is informal, of course, Theren. I don’t really have any orders or directives from Imperial Command. Before you go, I have one last request to make of you.”

“Anything.”

“I’d like to go with you.”

“Excuse me, sir?” Theren was bewildered.

“It has been too long since I’ve seen the front lines of battle. I’ve spent too much time in this office, ordering other men to their deaths; it’s time I headed up the assault, again. You’ll still be in command, of course.”

“I don’t know if I’d be comfortable giving you orders – ” Theren began, but was cut off by a glare from Vikar that was somewhere between pleading and ordering. “I mean, it would be my pleasure.”

“Excellent.”



The flotilla jumped to hyperspace even before Theren had fully briefed his men. A small boardroom onboard the Zenith provided their meeting space, wherein a group of officers from the fleet group including Captains, Line Captains, and the Vice-Admiral assembled. “Some of you,” Theren began, “may know me. Some of you do not, and were placed under my command after the Senex campaign. All of the bad things you’ve heard about me are true, and most of the good things are myths.”

That got a small chuckle, but Theren didn’t break a smile. “As many of you know, our objective is the Koornacht Cluster. The inhabitants – the sole inhabitants – of this cluster are the Yevetha. I expect you know this, too, or else Imperial Academy has gone to shit in my absence. Now, what most of you do not know is that the Yevetha have been discovered to be an active threat on the Empire, primarily during our time in Senex. You can’t know the details, but rest assured, you will be personally responsible for a fucking disaster of an attack, should we fail.

“Our first target is J’t’p’tan, a strike into the heart of the Koornacht Cluster. I don’t expect you to be able pronounce it, but I do expect us to be able to take it with minimal losses. What we’ve got is all we’ve got, so I don’t want anyone making rash decisions. Now, the Yevetha are not a force to be fucked around with; they’ll fight us hard, they’ll fight us well, and they’ll fight us with our own weapons. More importantly, they’ll fight us long after the battle is over. Some of you may have heard of the political subtleties I executed in the Senex Sector. None of that will be happening, here. We are about to fight an enemy that hates us on an intellectual, political, and religious level. There won’t be any bargaining, any cutting of deals, any democracy, or any of that shit.

“Immediately drop any ideas Imperial Academy may have put into your minds about aliens being innately inferior. True or not, this battle will be at least as hard, if not harder than if we were facing a human adversary.”

Theren paused, allowing that to sink in. Several bewildered faces were easily recognizable throughout the room, and most of them were those of green, untested officers. He didn’t bother asking himself why Imperial Command had put rookie commanders straight out of Naval Academy on the spearhead of a major offensive; he knew why. It was same reason he’d had to wait two days for his discoveries to be recognized as legitimate.

“Now, I have taken the liberty of preparing a detailed plan of attack. We will be jumping directly into the J’t’p’tan system, and, scouting reports show us, directly into battle. So don’t be expecting a fucking yacht cruise. We are here to fight.” Immediately, the room’s lights dimmed and a hologram appeared, displaying the J’t’p’tan sun and the rings of her planets. Between, were the outlines of vessels. “The Yevetha will be fighting against us using many of our own craft, garnered in wars against the Empire. Their fleet will likely be an amalgam of our ships, rebel ships, and other various vessels.

“As you can see, we will approach on this trajectory, here…”


Thirty minutes out of J’t’p’tan

Theren stroked the stubble of a mustache that had formed on his face. He’d not slept for at least two days, and hadn’t shaved for at least three. Tornel sat across from him. “The briefing was impressive. I’m surprised you managed to put all that together in just a few days.”

“It’s amazing what you can do when you don’t bother sleeping,” Theren said, distantly. His thoughts, clearly, were elsewhere. “I don’t know what we’re going to find, in the Koornacht Cluster.”

Tornel raised an eyebrow. “I thought that the scouting reports were rather thorough, myself. You disagree?”

Theren brushed the question aside with an absent wave of his hand. “I’m not talking about that.” He sighed. “We’re jumping into this with very few answers. Whatever we know about the Yevetha is from vague historical documents, the rest deleted by the bastards themselves. And we still have no idea what they were working on in Senex, or why they were on Coruscant.”

“Yeah.”

“If we knew more, we might know the repercussions of what we’re doing. If there was some recorded historical precedent, or something like that. But there’s nothing.” Theren looked out the viewport of his office, at the swirling blue mass of hyperspace just beyond it. “Fucking aliens,” he muttered.



“All hands, to battle stations.”

The Zenith emerged from hyperspace smoothly, as always. There’s plans were seldom hastily laid, but even when they were, they were thorough; planetary locations, enemy fleet position estimations, everything was taken into account. So when they emerged from hyperspace, there was very little in the system that was a surprise. They found a sizable fleet, a group of planets arranged exactly as they’d thought they’d be, and a fleet which emerged at exactly the locations they’d been ordered to.

“Shall we hail them, sir?” Asked one of the subordinates of the communications officer. He was new, clearly; the communications officer shot him a look of pure venom, and the man cowered. They’d been informed beforehand that no such hails would be made.

Theren just ignored it. He was fully concentrated on the task ahead, now. “Move the fleet forward as was prepared. Detach the Beta Group at an angle of degrees, and move them back to a course parallel to our own on my mark. Increase their acceleration to keep them in pace with us.” There were around thirteen vessels in the Imperial detachment, and about five broke off from the primary group and headed away, as ordered. They stayed about the same distance from J’t’p’tan as the first group, due to their increased speed. “Mark,” Theren said a minute later, and Beta Group made a course correction to align them parallel to the Alpha Group.

Theren nodded. “Hail Vice-Admiral Vikar.” The admiral was commanding one of the two Imperial Star Destroyers under the flotilla’s control. “Request that he break away with his support craft as Gamma Group, as prepared, at an angle of seventy degrees. Same speed.”

Vikar’s face appeared in a hologram meters from Theren. “As ordered, sir,” the older man said with a smirk. Theren just smiled in return and nodded, and Vikar’s image blanked out, respectful of the Commodore’s concentration.

This left Beta Group on the left, Alpha Group in the center – both parallel and equidistant to J’t’p’tan – and Gamma Group on the far right, beginning to fall behind the other two taskforces. They would make a loop in a semicircle, relatively unnoticed. Their target world drew closer and closer in the viewports of the Zenith, and as it did so, the vessels defending it became more apparent.

It was, as predicted, a sizable fleet. The Yevetha were a militant people, but even that didn’t warrant the sheer size of the defensive grouping; as likely as not, they’d had forewarning from Yevethan spies that remained on Coruscant. There were around twenty major craft, plus fighters and freighters converted for combat. “Deploy fighters.”

All, as predicted.

“Alpha group, begin to open fire,” Theren ordered. Immediately, from the bow of the Zenith, a fiery bloom of green turbolaser blasts erupted towards the enemy. The smaller vessels, Dreadnaughts and Carracks, did the same. In the distance, Beta Group could be seen circling around. “Order Beta to reign in their loop a little. We don’t need to wait.”

The Yevethan craft had already moved to engage the Imperial forces, the gathered defensive fleet moving haphazardly towards them in a rough triangular formation. What they lacked in organization, however, they made up in sheer firepower; the Yevethan ships, mostly refitted Imperial designs, poured forth an unbelievable stream of destruction, far surpassing the individual abilities of the ships under Theren’s command. The Yevetha had always been known for their adeptness at mechanical things.

One of the enemy ships erupted brightly, terminated by efficient Imperial fire. One of the others, a Corellian Corvette which had been modified to the point of barely resembling a Corellian Corvette, began to barge forward, making a valiant (if idiotic) charge towards their line. “Have all available fighters target it, and fire missiles.” A moment later, it’s shields materialized in a spherical splash of blue, caved in, and gave way to a flash of red flame.

J’t’p’tan hung close enough to the fleets that it filled the majority of the Zenith’s viewports, proving a significantly ugly backdrop for a battle. It was a murky gray-brown, the obvious result of environmental neglect by the Yevetha. Since the evacuation of the planet by the Fallanassi, the planet had fallen once again in the Yevethan hands, and they’d clearly shown little regard for it, using it harshly.

“Bring Beta in, full speed.” And with that, Beta Group swept in from behind the gathered enemy force, weapons bristling and firing at them from their flank. With the Yevethans now flanked and under attack from both sides, their craft began disappearing more and more quickly.

“Alright, now, bring Vikar and Gamma in,” Theren added at last, and the Imperial Star Destroyer under Vikar’s command began sweeping in from the right. “Have it sweep across the Yevethan fleet from below, and fire on it.” It closed in, rushing towards the rapidly disorganizing alien craft.

All, exactly as planned. One thing could be said for the Yevetha; while they fought with a lack of sound tactics, they fought viciously. As their coming end became more apparent, ship after ship rushed madly forward, guns blazing, to engage the Imperials at close range. Their suicidal tactics destroyed one, then two of the Carrack Cruisers, losses which would be felt harshly.

But then, something happened that was not expected.

As Vikar’s vessel made a run at the bellies of the enemy craft, destroying a pair of them easily, one of the crippled vessels of the Yevetha – a modified Dreadnaught – began to falter, and fall from its formation. It trailed debris and plasma, leaking atmosphere in the form of fire.

And it fell, right into the path of Vikar’s Star Destroyer.

There were few seconds remaining before impact, and nothing to do to avoid it. Instants before the two ships struck one another, escape craft began to be jettisoned from the ImpStar. Then, with a massive flash, the two vessels connected, the Yevethan craft striking the upper part of the main fuselage of the Star Destroyer. The former exploded, crippling the latter even more. Now it was Vikar’s vessel which fell, trailing debris and flame.

The bridge was silent, for a minute, and Theren’s concentration broke in a flood of brief panic. He regrouped quickly. “Scan for life pods, they should be falling fast.” As if by magic, the bridge returned to its former bustle, voices rising above the low, almost imperceptible groan of the Zenith’s ion engines.

“Life signs on the Ideologue are falling fast, sir. Everyone’s either dying, or ejecting… the admiral must have issued an abandon ship earlier than we thought.”

Almost at that exact moment, Vikar’s ship began to reverse direction, turning up towards the enemy fleet, its failing engines straining fully even as crew continued to eject. Theren stared. “Hail Vikar. Now!” Theren said urgently.

A hologram, filled with static, flashed up. “Theren,” Vikar nodded, foregoing Imperial formalities.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Theren asked, storming towards the hologram. “Get the hell off of that ship, now!”

“What any good admiral would do.”

Theren stared. “I am ordering you to abandon ship immediately, Vice-Admiral Vikar.”

“I don’t take orders from a Commodore.”

“Then you are relieved of duty. Guards!” Theren shouted to any who might be listening. “Get him off of that ship. Guards!”

“They’re gone, Theren.” Vikar smiled, and nodded. “Gloria Imperium.”

And then the Ideologue struck one, then another of the enemy Dreadnaughts, plowing through the line. In the explosions which followed, multiple craft were enveloped. Finally, all that remained were floating hulks and a mass of debris.

“Fucking old fool!” Theren said angrily. “Dispatch collection craft for those life pods. Shuttles, freighters, whatever we’ve got.”

Theren clutched his trench coat about him all the tighter as the pair of Stormtroopers led him over the frozen hill. There was almost no snow actually on the ground, though frost crunched underfoot, despite the cold. As they crested the knoll, the battle beyond became apparent. Imperial walkers, led by Stormtroopers and smaller AT-STs, slowly plodded towards a Yevethan settlement – a towering complex of construction facilities and functional homes. Laserfire was prominent, lighting up the field with the accompaniment of numerous explosions.

Theren stared at it all disdainfully. “Move that walker on the far left to the right, about ten degrees. Have it fire on that defensive turret.”

“Roger, sir,” the Stormtrooper said, forwarding the order.

The sneer could not be wiped from the Commodore’s face, despite their apparent victory. A million thoughts flowed through his head, with the most prominent screaming the word ‘Vikar’ as loud as was possible within a person’s mind. Others called to question why the Vice-Admiral would take such unnecessary action, and why the Yevethan vessel had to fall from formation at exactly the time it had.

In the distance, one of the walkers plowed into a Yevethan building, the structure collapsing in a combination of fire and dust. One of the Stormtroopers brought his commlink to bear. “Sir, it would seem that the enemy forces in this district are offering a formal surrender.”

Theren shook his head, and looked at the ground bitterly. “No. Kill them. Kill all of them, and when there are no soldiers left, capture the women and children and throw them into confinement.”

“Yes, sir,” the Stormtrooper replied.

“Have the same orders relayed to the vessels in orbit to be broadcast to battle commanders all over the planet.”



The battle flowed smoothly, almost effortlessly, the Imperial forces crushing over the Yevethan defenses like a glacier over a flat plain. Yevethan cities were struck with full force, some were struck with orbital bombardments. When all was said and done, a truly massive and spectacular display of Imperial prowess was put force, cowering the populace.

Not that they needed to be cowed, after the thrashing they were given. As per Theren’s orders, hundreds of thousands of Yevethan troops were slaughtered, many of whom were not ready for attack. Imperial casualties were high, but not unmanageable; many were from small militias formed by normal citizens fighting back with their deadly skill and natural weapons; razor sharp claws.

The Yevethans, with their hard shell armor and arm claws, were a natural warrior species. An alien race evolved into a legion of killers; primitive, brutal killers, Theren thought.

They found the admiral floating in an escape pod seven klicks from the location of his Star Destroyer’s demise, carried by the force of the shockwave. He’d been almost dead when they found him, his pod’s life support systems damaged badly.

Theren visited him in the makeshift hospital they’d set up on-planet.

“Admiral,” he said quietly, sitting down beside the older man. The man who had been like a father to him; who had shared in his training and overseen his campaigns, but who had provided a much more vital role outside of the battlefield. He’d accepted and even encouraged Theren’s somewhat-frowned-upon interest in ancient human literature, he’d provided his guidance when necessary. They even shared their out-casting from Imperial Command’s inner circles. Vikar was Theren’s father, if ever he’d had one.

“Theren,” Vikar said, coughing as if the effort required to speak had been overwhelming. “You’ve done well,” he added, gesturing to the window, which opened onto what once had been a Yevethan city.

He shrugged, shaking his head. “It doesn’t matter.” He sat there, for a moment, silently. “You left the ship.”

Vikar chuckled and wheezed. “I didn’t think you could handle this place without me,” he joked.

Theren smiled weakly. “I’m so sorry,” he said. But Vikar’s eyes closed, and he drifted off, not dead, but fast asleep. A nurse entered.

“He’s become narcoleptic, sir. He falls asleep often… I’m afraid I’ll have to ask you to leave, now.”

Theren nodded, and did so. Tornel was waiting for him outside of the room. “We’ve quelled most of the resistance. There’s still fighting in some southern sectors.”

“Then destroy one of the northern cities and move their garrisons south to stop it,” Theren replied nonchalantly.

Tornel seemed taken aback. “Are you sure?”

“These Yevetha,” Theren said, gritting his teeth, “are scum. They are lower than scum, they are less than sentient, they are nothing more than fucking monsters, and we will treat them like it. I don’t give a shit how many of them we kill, unless it jeopardizes the production output of a slave camp! And don’t you fucking question my orders!”

Tornel was even more taken aback by Theren’s uncharacteristic outburst. “Uh, yes, sir. But there’s more.”

“Oh?”

“Well, we’ve been digging through Yevethan records, and –”

Theren’s commlink, a direct link to the orbital command, rung, and he answered it quickly, a hologram appearing from it. “Yes?”

“It’s a member of the Duskhan League, sir. A human, apparently. For you.”

Theren looking quizzically at Tornel. “Put him through.”

And there, from the small holoprojector, came a face Theren had prayed he’d seen the last of.

There, was the face of Karrix Moraei.

“Hello, Commdore. Surprised?”

The Stormtrooper fired again, catching the hideous, bug-like creature in the chest, and dropping it to the ground, causing the corpse to tumble down the hill of rubble spilt from the sector’s buildings. The squad moved forward slowly, alertly. Three had already been lost to the razor-sharp claws of the Yevetha.

Out of a corner, an alleyway between buildings, another of the things leapt, and one of the Stormtroopers narrowly dodged it. “Fire!” Their commander shouted, and they did so. The agile Yevethan jumped away, its claws protruding from their arm sheaths with a metallic shing.

The Stormtrooper never even felt the claw enter his skull.



“We destroyed two northern settlements and move the garrisons to the south, which has quelled the fighting. As ordered, sir.” Tornel regarded Theren dubiously, obviously on his guard since the Commodore’s uncharacteristic outburst shortly after the capture of J’t’p’tan.

“Yeah,” Theren replied. He glanced out the window of the prefabricated command post, at the construction occurring outside. The buildings once implemented by the Yevetha had been built over entirely; using elevated platforms, Imperial garrisons had begun creating construction facilities overtop of the residential areas. The larger industrial and commercial facilities once employed by the Yevetha had been allowed to break through this upper layer of construction, now occupied solely by the Empire.

The cross-section where the first level met the second could be seen from the structure, which was tall enough to reach above the second level. Below, the inferior Yevethan structures were obscured from the sunlight, a darkened ghetto which had been surrounded by walls. One in every ten buildings was occupied by a garrison of Stormtroopers, and the white-armored soldiers paced the streets. The occasional group of the ugly, bug-like Yevetha huddled together, moving slowly down the road so as not to arouse suspicion, eyes down, trying to avoid the occupiers.

The true purpose of the capture of J’t’p’tan had now become apparent to all of the many Yevetha occupying the world; slave labor. Many facilities on the upper levels had already become active; massive, smog-belching factories designed to take advantage of the innate mechanical expertise of the Yevetha to manufacture a variety of instruments for Imperial use.

“Getting what they deserve,” Theren grunted, and turned back to Tornel. “I trust that the mining facilities I ordered for rural areas are being put to use?”

“They are,” Tornel confirmed.

“Good.” Theren said. The two sat in silence for a moment, as there seemed to be nothing left to say. The commodore put his head back against his seat, shutting his eyes.

“And Moraei?”

Theren opened one of his eyes and fixed Tornel with a stare that said, ‘And what about Moraei?’, but promptly thought the better of it, and closed it again. He sighed.

What about Moraei, indeed.



“Hello, Commdore. Surprised? I expect you’ll want to discuss the details of my continued existence with your friend Captain Thornel, Mister Gevel, so I shall be brief about this. The Duskhan League has learned already of your conquest of the sovereign world of J’t’p’tan, and we are not pleased, nor will we stand for it. I would order you to withdraw on threat of assault, but, you won’t withdraw, will you? No, of course you won’t. Of course not. I shall instead simply warn you of impending assault.”

“So you are working for the Yevetha,” Theren confirmed, almost triumphantly. “Traitor. We killed you once, and we’ll do it again.”

“Traitor? Traitor, you say, mister Gevel? How can one who never served you to begin with now be called traitor for still not serving you? You grow ever more the fool. But, I expect your techs to be almost finished tracing my signal, so I shall bid you farewell. Until we meet again, Commodore.”


“Are you sure you killed him?” Theren asked, not for the first time, and certainly not for the last.

“Yes,” came the answer, same as always. “Absolutely. I shot him in the face myself, vented the body into space. There’s no way he could’ve survived, no way. I watched him die.”

Theren sighed again, and opened his eyes, sitting forward. “I’ve had some agents – elite men I farmed out of Karfeddion – look into some of the files we recovered from the Yevetha.” He sat silently for a moment, seeming to remember something else. “What about the girl?”

“Sasha?”

“Yeah.”

“Still talking, but only to me. And only about nonsense.” Shortly after the invasion of J’t’p’tan, Sasha, who had been in Imperial custody aboard the Zenith since her rescue from the twisted Karrix Moraei, began talking. Her name, of course, was not Sasha, but Kielyn. “She just babbles on about the darkness she’s seen. Funny thing is, I know that there’s more to it than that; I know she’s not insane. She just doesn’t want to talk about it.”

“Well, she’s going to have to,” Theren said. “These agents have found things. Suspicious things. And I need them confirmed or disproved. Karrix told Sasha everything, I have no doubt – the son of a bitch was very open with her. I need for her to talk. Soon.”

Tornel nodded.

Theren locked gazes with Tornel. “This is extremely important.” He sat back again, and closed his eyes once more. “You wouldn’t fucking believe what these files say. Wouldn’t fucking believe it.”

Her name was Kieryn Segan, but she’d been given a different name by the repulsively evil Karrix Moraei. Sasha was that name, and one of the rules the Imperial psychologists had outlined, first and foremost, was that Dayvid Tornel was never to mention that name in her presence unless she did.

She spoke only to him, and Tornel knew that she regarded him as some sort of savior, and that he had her utmost gratitude. This made him, to say the least, uncomfortable. It made matters no easier that Kieryn was an extremely beautiful woman; she was young, in her mid-twenties, with dirty-blonde hair, a pretty face and a gorgeous figure. In some ways, Tornel’s uneasiness with her gratitude struck him as idiotic; wasn’t it her beauty, and some chivalrous notion of being the knight in shining armor, that had driven him to request and carry out her rescue, in the first place?

Yet the uneasiness was there, and very present. Perhaps it was linked to the sense of guilt he felt for having been responsible for the Empire’s ‘sale’ of her to the abominable Dark Jedi Master in the first place.

The ward of the Zenith’s medical chambers that she’d been kept in since her rescue were pristine and lovely, a white-walled, calming place filled with flowers and gentle artwork. Tornel walked past the desk, nodding to the attendant as usual, who rushed out and matched his pace.

“She’s feeling well, today; she’s up and walking around. And she wants to talk to you; about something important,” she informed him. Tornel nodded his thanks to her, and, after a few more steps, she unlocked the door to Kieryn’s cell.

Tornel slid inside, and the door shut behind him, the lock clicking through the silence of the room. He walked through the short hallway, into the main room, finding Kieryn sitting there, on her bed, resting her head against the wall as if she were exhausted. Tornel knew this was not the case; she could swing from exhausted to energetic in a second.

She wore simple, civilian clothing: she’d been permitted to cease wearing the Zenith ship hospital’s standard-issue gown a week earlier. Her hair was tied back in a braid, strands of it falling by the sides of her head and framing her tanned face. “Hey,” Tornel said, taking a seat across the bed from her.

“Hello,” she said, quietly, and politely.

“How are you doing?” Tornel asked gently.

“I’m fine, thank you,” she replied, smiling slowly, sweetly at him.

Tornel flinched inwardly at her pleasantries, but hid it with the stoicism of an Imperial officer. “How are they treating you, around here?”

“Just fine,” she said, and continued to smile, blinking slowly.

“I understand that you have something you’d like to speak to me about, Kieryn. Care to elaborate?” Tornel asked hopefully. He needed to have something to show for Theren, before they moved on N’zoth. Before the fight began in earnest.

The smile faded slowly from Kieryn’s face, and she cocked her head to one side as she continued to stare with her deep green eyes at Tornel. “I know what you all have been looking for. What you want to know. He told me. He showed me…” Her voice trailed off, but the intonation of her words left no doubt as to whom ‘he’ referred to.

She hung her head for a moment, and then looked at him again. “He showed me how to see through all this. He… gave me a gift, or something. I don’t know what it was. But I know what it is.” Kieryn stood slowly, walking around the bed and approaching Tornel. The Imperial officer stood immediately, wary of her.

Kieryn approached him in a way which was obviously sexual, putting a hand against his chest. “That @#%$, that motherfucker, he took everything from me. But he gave me something in return. I can… sense you. Feel you. I know your thoughts.” She closed her eyes and drew closer to him. “It’s a curse, and it’s a blessing. I have seen how you look at me. I saw it before you freed me. And I know what you think now.”

She took one of her hands in his, and drew it onto one of her ample breasts, forcibly tightening his hand around it. “He took everything, Dayvid. He took it all. My dignity, my freedom, everything… he left nothing but a gaping hole.”

Tornel pulled his hand back, taking a step backwards. “No, this is wrong. Wrong! You’ve been hurt. You don’t want this.”

“How the fuck do you know what I want? Of course I have been hurt. I have nothing. Do you understand? Do you know what it is like to be a prisoner in your own mind, to have everything you think and feel taken and replaced with something he wills? Do you? Do you fucking get it? You wanted to be a knight, you motherfucking coward, you wanted to be a savior. Now be it, god damnit!” She swallowed, her rage mounting. “Every day, he would hurt me, he would touch me, he would show me the power he had over me, over everything. He would kill his men, he would kill them and cut them and ask me, ‘Do you see? Do you see?’ And he would tell me every day that even if I escaped, there were a thousand more of him. There was no way out. That I was trapped. That no one could protect me.”

“What?” Tornel asked, slowly.

“You heard me. I expect that your friend Gevel knows already. Thousands of them. Thousands of Moraei.”



Theren motioned for Tornel, notably shaken, to sit. “I’m guessing your meeting didn’t go very well.”

“Oh, no. It went well. Very well. Kieryn told me everything we need to know. Everything,” Tornel added darkly. “You knew about this?”

“We uncovered it in Yevethan files.”

“Thousands of them.”

“Yeah.” Theren shook his head. “That’s what they were working on in Senex, and it’s why they went there. For Moraei. They’ve perfected some sort of advanced cloning system, letting them do it. Better than anything Thrawn had. That’s why they had agents on Coruscant; that’s what they were researching for. The insertion of a thousand copies of Moraei.”

“Shit.”

“Yeah.”

The two sat in silence for several minutes, simply staring at the floor, or the desk, or whatever was convenient. “Kieryn isn’t getting any better,” Tornel finally mused. “In fact, she’s getting worse. I can’t imagine what Karrix did to her – she’s twisted. Very twisted.”

Theren fixed Tornel with a hard-eyed glare. “You can’t imagine what he did to her? Yes you can. You just don’t want to.” He stood up. “And that’s why they chose him. Come on; we’re mobilizing the fleet.”

“Now?”

“Yeah.”

History is made to be repeated.

This much defines us all; defines our existence. It is a cycle, something that repeats and repeats while few take notice of it. A culture, isolated from the galaxy as the Yevetha were for so long, becomes xenophobic to the point of genocide. An empire, dominating and encompassing all, throws itself over and over against a few outposts of sovereignty, never understanding why it cannot penetrate.

The past, it has been said, effects the present. But it is more than that; the past does not simply effect the present, it is the present.

Some are scarred by it, and remain so. Some are crippled by it, and remain so. Some are enraged by it, and remain so.

But in the end, none of us can transcend the past. Even when it seems that the cycle has ended, it is but a part of a much larger cycle. The past never dies.



“It would seem they are coming,” the Yevethan rasped in his watery mother tongue. While it was utterly impossible for most non-Yevetha to understand the language of the xenophobic species, Karrix Moraei was not like any other non-Yevetha.

Most of the clones generated by the Sunset Project went by the moniker KM- followed by a number, however, this one did not; this was the original version, the original Dark Jedi Master. Moraei smiled at his compatriot, the chancellor of the Duskhan League. “Yes, indeed.” He knew that a more in-depth response was requested by implication, but made the Yevethan ask. His name was Vivishek Maax.

“Well, elaborate! They are your people!”

“Not hardly,” Moraei added. While many of his clones were regarded as mad, due to a mental condition which afflicted many clones, Karrix was cunning and very sane. “Gevel will take your defense fleet without difficulty. It’s small, it’s useless, and it’s inconsequential. Keep it there only to occupy him.”

The bug-like thing grunted, insulted by the joust at the Duskhan League’s modest remaining fleet, but knowing that it was true.

“The ground war will be what matters, as you know. My clones are infinitely superior to anything the Empire can throw at us. A thousand Dark Jedi Masters is an overwhelming force, even against millions of Stormtoopers.”

The Yevethan grunted again. “And if this Commodore Gevel chooses to use less conventional tactics?”

Moraei laughed. “He won’t. I monitored my clone very closely – even controlled him from afar, at times. This Gevel is soft-hearted and cultured, not cold and cruel like the Imperials you have faced. He doesn’t have the guts.”



The Imperial fleet made a hasty jump to hyperspace, and even more hastily planned its assault on N’zoth. The world was the center of Yevethan society, the center of their universe; it was here that the species had begun its life, with the belief of being alone in the universe. The super-bright stars surrounding the Koornacht Cluster had led them to believe that they were the only species in the galaxy.

How wrong they were.

The Empire had once occupied the Cluster, bringing with it a multitude of species which clung onto the mighty New Order like parasites. The Yevethans had been crushed, their sovereignty lost, and a great oppression begun. They’d been forced to build the weapons of the Empire, to be their slaves, as they had once again become on J’t’p’tan.

Yet they’d broken free, turned the New Order’s weapons against them, and fought back, ousting them from the sector. It was one of the great defeats in Imperial history.

In the end, it was this defeat and the chain of events succeeding it which had led the Empire once again to the sector, in the form of Theren Gevel’s forces. It had driven a small group of Yevetha from the Koornacht Cluster to the Senex Sector; it had driven them to seek a way to eliminate the Empire. This, in turn, had aroused the suspicions of the Empire during the conquest of Senex.

History.

Theren did not reflect on this, as he stood, hands balled into fists, aboard the bridge of his flagship, Zenith. He was conscious of it, yes, but he pushed it from his mind – or perhaps, it was just pushed from his mind. Instead, one picture replaced such thoughts over and over; one image, placed firmly in his mind’s eye against his will.

It was the image of Vice-Admiral Vikar, lying helpless and crippled upon a hospital bed, the victim of the Yevetha.

Of a race of brutes.

Their history showed this clearly. Their savage, monstrous nature; how they persecuted all other races to the point of genocide. They were murderers, born and bred for no other reason or purpose than to kill. Heartless and cold.

The fleet reverted from hyperspace, leaving them staring out at the murky sphere of N’zoth. “Scan,” Theren said quickly, sternly.

“We’re getting… four cruisers, sir. As well as a few dozen fighter craft.” The officer didn’t let any surprise leak into his voice, though it certainly was suprising.

“What the hell?” Tornel said, coming up beside Theren. “Four cruisers and a few wings of fighters? To defend their capital?”

Theren stared out at the icy blackness of space, and nodded, slowly. “Yes, of course. Don’t you see?” He asked. “The Yevetha had little more than what we saw at J’t’p’tan to defend their sector. The various stages of government the Duskhan League has gone through recently has allowed their forces to fall into disarray – as, I expect, has infighting.” Theren spat the last line with disdain. “The threat from Moraei wasn’t a reference to their fleets; they were talking to the threat of their cloning project. They want to fight us on the ground. They want to fight a war.

“And we’re going to give them one. Prepare the drop ships.” Theren smirked. “And prepare me a shuttle. Tornel, you have the bridge.”



The defensive ships were, as Theren predicted, routed without considerable effort by a few simple flanking maneuvers. Unmolested, the New Order landing ships had hurtled down towards the planet, streaking across the gray skies of N’zoth, dodging anti-aircraft fire as they did so. The craft landed all over the world.

Smaller cruisers from the fleet landed in similar fashion, bearing with them thousands of troops. It was freshly night, on that half of the Yevethan world, as they landed. Theren Gevel found his way down on one of the Dreadnaughts outfitted for atmospheric landing, the ship blazing down towards a city. Laser blasts rocketed up, splashing harmlessly on the Dreadnaught’s shields.

“Open fire on the city below – use turbolasers and torpedoes,” Theren ordered. From the belly and sides of the gigantic craft, green poles of light struck down into the city below, lighting up the dark night with massive, billowing explosions that were very visible, even from the bridge of the Dreadnaught. From a firing station near the front of the ship, a missile spiraled down towards the city, exploding massively upon impact and destroying at least five city blocks.

“Channel power from the engines into our shields as we land. Set us down right on top of the city; preferably an inhabited part.” Theren didn’t sneer; he didn’t even flinch, as he ordered the brutal measure. The active energy shields would tear apart the buildings below, killing everything within.

Slowly, the Dreadnaught eased down, the sound of crumbling and exploding buildings echoing through her halls. “How many life forms are we reading, in this city?”

“Three million.”

“And all of them are going to be hostile.” With a clunk, the Dreadnaught set down onto the now-leveled city blocks below. The scene outside the viewports was dazzling; towering buildings, shrouded in the night’s darkness, rose just outside, made into silhouettes by the flames ignited by their brief bombardment. For a moment, there was silence.

“Order the Stormtroopers to set up a perimeter. All units should be on guard; they’re going to face more than they could possibly imagine.”

“Yes, sir.”



Tornel looked down at the battle and damage reports as they came in on the holodisplay. Some were good; some were not.

The landing barges continued to ferry troops and a variety of armor to the surface below, and in some of the battles for the massive Yevethan cities, they were winning. In others, the incredible force of millions of Yevethans was overwhelming them.

“Our ships are setting up geosyncronous orbits around key cities, sir, as ordered,” one officer noted. Tornel nodded in reply.

“You know the orders; don’t fire unless you’re told.” Despite Theren’s apparent distain for the Yevetha, he’d ordered them not to immediately utilize the orbital bombardment tactic. Unlike on J’t’p’tan, to do so here would place casualties in the millions.

“What the fuck –?” Tornel suddenly said, as a new wave of reports came in.

They weren’t good.



The Stormtrooper squad rushed forward, through the dark streets of the N’zoth city. Dark streets illuminated by firefights. They opened fire on their approaching enemy, watching the Yevethans fall into disarray as their comrades lost their lives. Scout walkers clinked behind them, adding increased fire.

The cities were strange; like the ones on J’t’p’tan, but more expansive, more grand. And somehow, more dark; more morbid. The spires of the monumental structures rose up like great daggers in the sky, sinister in the light of laserfire.

Then, the lighting changed. It went from sporadic to constant, and glimmering. And immediately, every man in the squad knew what they were looking at. “Jedi,” one said, very calmly. There were ten of them.

And in about that many minutes, every Stormtrooper was dead.



The perimeter had been established and secured around the Dreadnaught, the night lighting up around the huge vessel as the Yevethan and Imperial forces clashed. Theren commanded not only that battle, but battles all over the planet from that vantage point; he was seemingly un-phased by the violence outside.

“Move unit ARM-12K into position, here,” he ordered, his face illuminated by the glow of the holographic tactical display. “Have them sweep across and take the outer reaches of that city. God fuccking damnit, move STR-13C out of there.”

“Sir, we’re –”

“Shut up a minute, god damnit. Have them deploy the next armor squad here, at sector 12ZK-B.” Theren turned to face the officer. “What is it?”

The man just pointed to the viewport of the Dreadnaught cruiser. Outside, the darkness had been driven away once again – this time, by something much more foreboding than laserfire.

Lightsabers.

“Shit,” Theren muttered, striding to the viewport quickly. Outside, though it was barely visible, the Imperial troops were firing into an onrushing arc of what Theren knew to be Dark Jedi Masters; about a hundred Dark Jedi Masters. The versions of Karrix Moraei rushed forward, slicing at the men.

“Order them to fall the fuck back!” Theren said. “Quickly! Everything, back to within fifty meters of the ship. And have all gunners return to their stations and prepare to fire on my mark.” The alarms of the ship began blaring in the tell-tale call to battlestations. “Mark,” Theren said, and a great barrage of laserfire lanced out into the legion of Dark Jedi.

But the cost had been incurred; the corpses of what must have been thousands of Stormtroopers were illuminated by the turbolaser fire.

“Sir, we have a hail from Lieutenant Tornel.”



“My god,” Tornel said to the miniature holographic form of Theren. “Look at this! We’re losing troops by the thousands. These Jedi are slicing through them like a hot knife through butter.” Tornel was clearly panicked.

Theren didn’t say anything for a moment. Then, “Alright. Understood.”



Theren stood there, for a moment, in the darkness of the bridge, staring out into the now-silent night. The Jedi, the multitude of Karrixes, had been slaughtered by the turbolaser fire.

“We’re receiving another hail, sir,” an officer said tentatively.

“From Tornel?” Theren asked, his head turning back.

“No. The planetary government.”

“Put them through.”

Before Theren appeared a pair of figures; one was that of Karrix Moraei, the original of the clone army they now faced. The other was of a diminutive Yevethan, as hideous as the rest of his kind, clad in ceremonial garb. “Hello, Mister Gevel,” Moraei said.

Theren’s blood ran cold. “Hello.”

“As you can see,” he continued, “our armies are eviscerating your forces. You have made a grave error in coming here. You cannot win. Once, the Empire also tried to occupy this part of space, and they were thrown back. You will be thrown back again, and enough that your ‘empire’ will never return. Surrender now, Commodore, and spare the lives of your men.” Karrix smiled from behind his mask, a bitter, angry smile, but not mad as the grin of the clone they’d dealt with previously had been. “Surrender. It is your only choice.”

Theren stared at Karrix for a moment, and his eyes flicked to the Yevethan, then back to the Dark Jedi. He looked at the ground. And in that moment, it came rushing back to him; the images of the day on Coruscant when he’d been approached by the Yevethan spy. The events unfolding since that day, which had led him here. And the plan. Oh, yes, the plan; the sinister, dark plot to destroy the Empire once and for all with a brutal strike at the heart of it all; at Imperial Center. How many lives would be lost if this army came to Coruscant?

How many more would become like Vice-Admiral Vikar?

Theren sneered, his eyes darkly rising to meet them. “No,” he said grimly.

Karrix chuckled. “Excuse me, Commdore? Care you to be destroyed?”

Theren sneered again. “Make sure this is broadcast on an open channel. I want them all to hear it. I want them to know this as they die.”

He turned to the two figures. “No. I will not surrender to you. You are nothing. Your species is nothing. You are an ignorant, bastard, child race. You are an ignorant race of murderous, conniving, xenophobic brutes and I will not fucking stand to allow you to survive!” Theren shouted. “The Yevetha exist for only one reason. They breathe, breed, live and die for one thing. It is the reason you have constructed this army; for one purpose. The fall of man. The fall of the Empire. You are all fucking scum, and you will see how the Empire deems to deal with scum.”

Karrix no longer looked so cocky.

“Order all units to fall back into rural areas,” Theren said with a grim smile. “They have thirty minutes to do so. And then, order all craft to orbittally bombard every single known location of military forces. And a few cities, too,” he added.



“You said he would not do this!” The Yevethan shouted. “You said we would be safe! You lied to us!”

“No, no, Chancellor, never lied. I did not know – I, I underestimated Gevel, perhaps, I misjudged him!” Karrix backed away from the little beast as his claws slid from their arm-sockets.

“You have wasted decades of work. You have destroyed us!” Then, Vivishek stopped. He looked up, to the domed, transparisteel ceiling of the chamber. “It begins,” he said.

And then fire swept it all away.

In that moment, a thousand fires erupted all over N’zoth. Entire cities were destroyed, entire armies felled. The clones of Karrix Moraei were wiped from the galaxy, the last of them cornered and defeated by Stormtroopers.





Theren Gevel sat down beside the motionless body of Quentin Vikar. He was alive, but in a coma; his breathing was rhythmic, but labored and slow. The Commodore clenched his hands into fists. “I did my best,” he said. “N’zoth is ours. I repaid them, for what they did…”

One cycle ends, yet another begins. In the end, we are all slaves to our history; to the history of others; to all history. We are the continuations of the past into the present, and when we take the least notice of this, it effects us the most.

Do you see the cycle?