A Distant War

[Khendon Sevon]

The Death Advocate stood motionless in deep space. Lights of amber and azure twinkled from the colossal battleship and mingled with the pattern of surrounding stars. The mighty war-vessel’s location was completely devoid of landscape—no star, planet, moon, or space debris floated nearby.

Like a deadly hunter, the predatory vessel waited.

It wasn’t long before an Imperial star destroyer burst from the confines of hyperspace and slowed as it approached its near twin. The Death Advocate was a Dominator-class. As such, it had four large domes housing potent gravity well generators—a technology of strategic importance.

The sister dagger was the newly christened Executor’s Fist, a ship that Khendon Sevon himself had requisitioned.

Khendon stood on the bridge of The Death Advocate and watched as the final ships of the small fleet arrived—an array of supporting craft eased into formation around the star destroyers.

[Khendon Sevon]

“Jump.” The fleet took off through the cyclone of hyperspace. Beams of white rushed around the craft as they accelerated beyond the speed of light.

The Executor stood tall, silvery eyes examining the intricate lines of journey. He was completely garbed in battle armor—a black exo-suit developed by the cloning facilities he had recently raided. Low on his hip proudly was placed his two-handed lightsaber. Its intricately carved bone handle shone grimly in the dim light of the bridge.

Khendon held a leather-bound book in the light and examined the cover. The tanned hide was rough and blotchy—it had a consistency unlike any animal’s flesh he had ever encountered. The leaves were yellowed from centuries of decay.

The relic flipped open in the Executor’s hand and he examined the distinct tongue. It was a Sith script. The bold characters seemed to speak to him as he examined their ebony darkness. Magic hummed throughout each phrase.

The fleet had gathered as close as they dared to their location. The wilds of the farthest flung areas of space were extremely dangerous. Even now they traveled through uncharted reaches.

Excitement grew in Khendon’s chest as he reread the segment that had so gripped him with the fever of conquest, “They are a race far advanced beyond our own. Yet, they show little resilience for the Force. They look upon me as a god.”

He shut the tome and a billow of gray dust clouded from the rotting pages.

[Khendon Sevon]

The winged-ball jerked hard right and accelerated on the powerful wings of fast release ions. The interceptor banked in a rough maneuver and brought the arrowhead-shaped opponent in its targeting reticule.

Jade fury fired from the four linked lasers of the TIE and shot through space. They collided with the shale-colored armor of the alien ship and sheered a layer of the break-away shell.

“What the hell!” It was Black Thorn Lead. The odd fighters weren’t shielded. Instead, they had sheets of energy-absorbing material that seemed to simply become brittle and fall off as beams poured on the heat.

The arrowhead turned and attempted an intricate series of feigns destined to bring Black Thorn Lead into its sights. The Death Advocate’s gunner’s were already waiting for the tactic.

A well-placed turbolaser turned the opposing fighter into space-junk, electricity played on its shattered and broken body.

“Good shot,” remarked the Executor as he stood tall on the bridge, hands clasped behind his back.

For a week now the small flotilla had been encountering the strange fighters in ever increasing volumes. They were getting close to their destination. These were the advanced guards of the realm.

The technology that these aliens displayed was divergent from that of the Empire. Khendon found he could barely tear his eyes away from the frightening and scarily beautiful images of the enemy craft. They had an almost organic look to them. No view port was visible on the structures and recessed firing ports released the silver energy weapons that wreaked havoc on shields.

The Sith wondered whether he was leading his men to victory or to a cold burial in space. They were so far away from home waters that no reinforcements would be able to make it for weeks if a call went out—if they could even find the location.

Days of trekking through space-anomalies and fighting foreign foes had brought the tiny fleet completely off the charts—save for the journals of a forgotten Sith.

“Rotate the fighters, put out fresh pilots.” The Executor rubbed his gray eyes and nodded slowly, “one more jump now. Let’s rest before then, though. Inform the fleet that we’ll hide in the nearby asteroid field and jump in ten hours.”

A break from the journey and battle would be good.

Khendon retired to his quarters.

[Khendon Sevon]

The room was dark and warm. It was stark naked. A sleeping pad lay in a corner with a few books and miscellaneous objects scattered around it. The floors were reflective black, the walls simple gray, the transparasteel panes high and long.

From a black carryall Khendon retrieved a scabbard. He strapped the relic to his side, gave a final glance, and left the room and its silence. A thought of the metaphorical nature of his chambers slipped into the Executor’s mind. He allowed a dark grin to appear on his face and took the nearest turbolift.

The lift stopped at his destination.

A heavy blast door slid aside slowly and revealed a brightly lit hallway. Several stormtroopers saluted in unison and Khendon returned the stiff gesture. “How’s it going, John?” He wasn’t here for pleasantries, but morale was more important than his leisure time.

“Good, Sir. Everything’s quiet. I heard we’re jumping in ten hours, you think they’ll put up more of a fight than the scattered resistance we’ve encountered so far?”

The Executor grinned.

“Sure. Nothing you and your boys can’t handle.” He gestured, “I’m going to be here a while, why don’t you and your men catch some sack time. I’ll buzz the barracks when I’m through.”

“Sir?”

Khendon indicated with a curt movement of his head that they should leave. The guards entered the lift he had just vacated.

The Sith found the “spacious” holding cell that he desired, opened the door, and stepped in. Illumination finally graced the small cube as he sat on a stool he had grabbed on his way in. It was Imperial policy to keep prisoners in the dark—in more way than one.

“You’re both currently on an Imperial star destroyer bound for the blackest depths of space. Surrounding you is a crack assault team of the Empire’s best troopers. Beyond them is a void that kills indiscriminately.

“If either of you somehow steal a ship you’ll die. Only a crack pilot with intimate knowledge of the area can navigate these pitch-colored waters. Any questions before I move on?”

[Vega Van-Derveld]

It had been some time since Vega had set foot on an Imperial starship. As a Stormtrooper, it had been his duty to toss miscreants into cells like these – and now he found himself waking up in one of them, his head groggy and his memory hazy.The woman – Rakesh - had betrayed him, traded him in for a handsome bounty.

“Any questions before I move on?”

Van-Derveld, his eyes still bleary and unfocused, looked between the shape of the man speaking to him, and the prone form lying beside him: that of the seer and slave, Sibylle. She was still unconscious. Did they know what she was capable of? How could they? Lifting his head, and now able to see his captor more clearly, the pale man spoke in his synthesized voice, cold and void of emotion.

“Who are you? Why am I here?”

[Khendon Sevon]

Khendon grunted and licked his lips, “Why are you here? Hah! Why weren’t you here sooner! I think that’s a better question. I blame it on a general trend of Imperial inefficiency. Never the less, the machine always catches up with you.

“Then again, it was someone’s greed that turned you in, not their sense of mechanical duty.” The Executor, by traditional views, was a blasphemer. There was nothing he could do to help it.

“You have some sins to atone for. As for me,” he shook his head, his bright gray eyes always threatening to become stormy, “well, I’m surprised you don’t know. In fact, I’m upset by your lack of sudden realization and subsequent fright.” He loosened the sword from its scabbard, sank it a full three centimeters into the reinforced steel floor, and leaned upon the weapon.

Tendrils of darkness untangled themselves from Khendon and began exploring tentatively. He narrowed his gaze and grinned like a predator, “I am Executor Khendon Sevon. The one and only.” It rumbled from his throat in a low, menacing baritone.

[Vega Van-Derveld]

Vega had always speculated – known, even – that the higher ranking members of the Empire were users of the Force. While it was publicly denied and punished, privately it was a sin they all liked to indulge in. It was no surprise, then, to see the Executor calling on the power of the Dark Side. What did surprise Vega, however, was the strength which radiated from him, as if he had been honing his skill in such crafts for many years. The shadowplay was a parlour trick, certainly, but he sensed there was something more than just bravado here. Impressive.

“You haven't answered my question: why am I here? What are you planning to do with me?”

[Khendon Sevon]

“Give you a medal for the services you’ve rendered the Empire, of course.” His lips parted in a lopsided, sly smile.

“I think I’ll keep that information to myself, for the moment.” There was no point in showing all of his cards so early. Khendon was surprised that his new prisoner seemed to be talking. Normally it took a few beatings to break the will to be a hero.

Time to capitalize, “Tell me about Hoth.” He mentally prepared himself to whip the sword from the durasteel and bring it to bear.

[Vega Van-Derveld]

Van-Derveld snorted, stifling a laugh. “Hoth... is the reason that I'm here. If my patrol hadn't been stranded in a snow-storm, I might never have discovered my true calling in life.”

[Khendon Sevon]

Khendon put on a broad grin, “and what, Dear Sir, is your true calling?” He looked around the cell and gestured inquisitively.

The Executor’s feelings about the man were very neutral. So far he had shown no signs of aggression, hatred for authority, or insanity. Was Vega playing at something? Could he be trying to get time off for good behavior? Certainly not. He, being a former Imperial, would know that Khendon would employ vicious methods of interrogation—if need be—and would worry more over cleaning his blade after slicing someone’s head off than the action of cleaving said head.

A idea came to Khendon, he shuffled it away in his deck.

[Vega Van-Derveld]

“One not entirely dissimilar to your own, I imagine,” Vega replied with an evasive smirk.

[Khendon Sevon]

Khendon grunted, “I believe you should look for a new job, dear sir. If our true callings are similar, there is one significant disparity that comes to my mind. That is this: you are imprisoned and unable to move forward on your path,” he gestured to the bars, “and I am fulfilling every part of my,” a grin broke, “destiny.”

“Now, what would you do if I told you this ship is sailing into certain peril where the very soul of every individual will be tested in the tempest of black, black battle? Call it a crusade. Those that die will be purified in holy fire. Survivors will have the day permanently impressed upon their hearts and shall be able to call upon that fervor forevermore.

“And that is just the beginning, black hearted son of death, for ultimate power lies ahead and behind.” Khendon extended his hand palm up as if holding an imaginary apple and flexed the muscles of his wrist. “There is glory and vengeance to be had in the plenty,” he clenched his fist, “you just have to be brave enough to take it.” There was a command beyond his words that seemed to echo in the room for a full second, then vanished as the sound of the recycled air being circulated took hold anew.

He released his grip on the sword and stood, eyes narrow and penetrating.

[Vega Van-Derveld]

“You enjoy the sound of your own voice, don't you?”

Turning away for a moment, Vega glanced down at the still motionless body of Sibylle. He felt like booting her in the side. This was the type of thing that she was supposed to foresee... yet she had not. He frowned, the Executor's words running through his mind again.

“Why, exactly, are you telling me all of this? If you plan on sacrificing me in aid of your black, black battle you needn't lecture me on it before hand... just put a blade in my hand and point me in the right direction.”

[Khendon Sevon]

Khendon grinned, “Ah! I would do exactly as you suggested if it weren’t for one small thing: loyalty. How do I know I can trust you, Vega?”

The Executor already had an answer to his own question. He’d let Vega play his cards.

[Vega Van-Derveld]

“You don't... but what use to you am I locked up in this cell?”

Though he was in no position to bargain, Vega would not back down.

“Give me your glory and vengeance, and you can have my loyalty. A fair trade, wouldn't you say?”

[Khendon Sevon]

“Completely fair.” Khendon grinned. “So, as the first test of your loyalty, hold out your hand.”

The Executor wasn’t playing games. He would suffer no betrayal. Like any good Imperial he had a plan to keep the monster under the whip.

[Vega Van-Derveld]

Like a dog obeying it's master, Vega obliged Khendon's request and - without fear - held out one hand.

[Khendon Sevon]

The needle slipped out form Khendon’s sleeve and it was in his descending hand before the thought was even fully developed in his mind. The small pin-like device struck Vega’s outstretched index finger and drew a small bead of blood.

“There,” the wicked smile returned, “now I trust you fully. You’ve just been infected with a slow acting toxin, a very, very potent one. Given mild treatment, I’ll be able to ensure that you don’t die while in service and it will only barely hinder your combat abilities.

“Of course, if you run away it will kill you. So, are you ready to start?”

[Vega Van-Derveld]

It all happened rather quickly. Vega had not expected to be poisoned, yet felt he should have known that something like this was to come. The Empire had always had its ways of ensuring full loyalty, whether its troops liked it or not. “As ready as I'll ever be.”

[Khendon Sevon]

“Good.” Khendon gestured to the unconscious form at the far of the cell, “Who’s that?”

[Vega Van-Derveld]

“My traveling companion,” Van-Derveld replied, without so much as a glance towards the body. It was rather fortunate that Sibylle had yet to awaken. Vega doubted that should would be able to maintain a level head in light of the situation. “You needn't trouble yourself with her... she is obedient.”

[Khendon Sevon]

Khendon shook his head and grunted, “There’s an airlock waiting for her if she proves a problem. See to it she doesn’t become one.

“I’ll have the guard bring you to some real quarters and give you whatever weapons you desire—within reason and once we're ready to leave. Oh, and no explosives.” He grinned. “We’ve about nine and a half hours ‘till we jump for hostile territory. I’ll give you more information on your mission then.”

He took out his comm., “Any questions?”

[Vega Van-Derveld]

“None.” With the discussion apparently over, Vega turned away, looking towards Sibylle. It was about time to wake her and bring her up to speed on the situation at hand.

[Khendon Sevon]

The door to the detainment facility opened and a guard marched through.

“Take our guests to their quarters. See to it they’re well taken care of.”

“By your command, Executor.”

Khendon nodded and found his own way out of the prison. He didn’t trust Vega. Yet, he knew the man was needed.

He needed sleep. A dark storm was coming and there was a good chance few, if any, sailors would survive its destructive torrents.

[Vega Van-Derveld]

The guard eyed Vega apprehensively, wondering if it had been the Executor's hand that had turned him into such a wreck, covered in veins and pale as death. As if sensing the man staring at him, Van-Derveld gave a snarl before turning back to his incapacitated companion.

“Girl... wake up,” he gave Sibylle's shoulder a shake. “Time to move.”

[Sibylle]

She was startled awake by her Master's voice, but not afraid. She remembered her new lot in life very well. She was a slave. The property of a man she knew to be quite capable of killing without question. Yet, she somehow managed to remain calm.

Rolling up to a sitting position she looked around at her surroundings. Not where she had fallen asleep. In fact.. She didn't remember falling alseep at all. Where were they..?

Apprehension filled her when she spotted the guard. She didn't ask any questions in front of him. She simply obeyed, rising to her feet. Trusting that all would be clear soon. Still, she couldn't shake off the feeling that she was probably lucky she was still alive.

[Vega Van-Derveld]

“We are on an Imperial vessel, and we are safe,” Vega explained, seizing the girls wrist with one cold hand. “That is all you need to know, for now.”

The guard gave him a nudge in the small of the back with the barrel of a rifle.

It took all of Vega's self control not to turn and bite the drones nose off.

“Let's go,” the guard said, in as stern a voice as he could muster, before marching the pair of prisoners out and off towards their new quarters.

[Khendon Sevon]

Khendon slipped under the covers of his sheets, naked, and closed his eyes. His room was dark and the air cold. A thin blanket faltered at defending from the chill. That was the way the Hioni native wanted it. He had been born and raised on a planet of extreme heat and extreme cold. Only under one of those two conditions could he properly and deeply rest.

He slept an undisturbed, dark, dreamless sleep.


*************

The Death Advocate and surrounding flotilla slipped into hyperspace and a comm. rang in Khendon’s room. The Executor stirred and stood. He could feel the chill of the chamber all the way to his bone. It felt good.

He remained unrobed and walked over to the wall unit. Khendon turned on only audio. “Executor?”

“Yes.”

“My Lord, we have jumped. Destination will be achieved in thirty minutes.”

“I’ll be on the bridge in ten. Have my guests brought there.”

[Vega Van-Derveld]

After spending a number of hours unconscious in a cell, Vega felt as though he needed no sleep. Opting instead to spend the time in silent contemplation and meditation, he gave Sibylle permission to speak – though suspected that she had not taken the opportunity, as when a guard arrived to collect them she was up on her feet in the blink of an eye.

The bridge of the ship was impressive. Khendon stood at its center, surveying the scene before him – his figure a dark silhouette against the light of space. Vega strode forwards, though Sibylle did not move and would not do so without her Masters command.

“Executor...”

[Sibylle]

She stopped just inside the bridge. Her eyes scanned about, untrusting, wary. She was not given a reason by her Master why they were here, but he seemed untroubled, if a bit annoyed. She really did not know the man well enough to know yet if it was annoyance that she sensed. It could have been fury, this was no secluded slave tent and it didn't seem like he would be able to simply kill someone and walk away if things didn't meet his approval.

Sibylle's gaze settled on the man he referred to as Executor. He was the reason they were here? She felt more distress, her keen sense of self preservation warning her to remain silent and if possible, unnoticed.

[Khendon Sevon]

Khendon turned and let his gaze fall on the only non-Imperials on the bridge. He nodded and took a few steps towards them with his confident stride. “We will shortly be arriving in territories that are completely alien from our own. If tradition stays, they will put up no resistance and worship me for my family’s heritage.

“Otherwise… we’re going to have an engagement unlike any other you or I have fought. The fleet will begin its assault as soon as the first xeno-weapon is used. You and I are going to stay on the bridge. As the battle develops we may abandon it for different areas that need bolstering.

“Be prepared for anything.” The Sith smiled.

[Vega Van-Derveld]

A frown furrowed Vega's pale brow.

“We're just going to stand here and watch?”

It wasn't quite the physically draining 'black battle' that he'd expected.

[Khendon Sevon]

Khendon grunted. “Alien races are a dangerous lot. We’re here to ensure that my forces aren’t slaughtered at the drop of a hat. I have a strong premonition that there will be plenty of heads to severe and black blood to bathe in. Be patient.”

There was a slight jolt that ran through the superstructure of the mighty war vessel as it rapidly decelerated from hyperspace. The lines of white that had filled the viewports became pinpricks of light. Each was a distant star spewing radiation and illumination into the dark void.

Voices rose around the bridge as officers went about their duties. “Three 2,000 meter vessels are turning to respond, Sir!”

“Hold fire for now, open all frequencies and hail.”

“This is the Galactic Empire military vessel Death Advocate hailing native forces, please respond.” The man repeated himself two more times then turned to Khendon and shook his head.

“They’re launching fighters.” The scanner officer turned towards his Executor.

“Frell, I knew that damn book made it sound too easy. Battle Command, you have a go to issue combat orders.”

The wedge shaped fighters were made of a dark material and clustered together in mighty predatory swarms. Each tried to outpace the other and accelerated at breakneck speeds towards the two star destroyers and their escorts. They dodged their own fighters in their mad dash as if there were salvation to be had at their destination.

The first line of golden energy raced from the attacking craft and exploded in odd looking waves on the shields of the vessels. It looked like honey pooling against the side of a glass.

A rumble roared from every direction and green lasers lanced out and smashed oppressing fists into the oncoming swarm. Flecks of black armor shed away from the hulls of the crafts and a few turned molten hot and incinerated.

“Interesting.”

“Something’s happening!”

The large battleships were shaped like closed flowers. Their petals unfolded and revealed a long central structure. The wings housed black blistered that suddenly leapt from their dark housings and took to space.

“Massive launches, Sir! Shuttle sized?”

“See, Vega,” Khendon showed his teeth, “plenty of blood.”