The Mid-Levels of Coruscant were a stark contrast to the Temple's serene heights. Here, the air was thick with the smell of fried food, engine exhaust, and the distinctive ozone scent of cheap power generators. Neon signs flickered in a dozen languages, advertising everything from legitimate businesses to services that definitely weren't legal in the Republic's upper levels.
I navigated the crowded streets, my Jedi robes drawing a few curious glances but mostly being ignored. People in the Mid-Levels had learned long ago that it was better not to pay too much attention to anyone who looked like they might be important.
Dex's Diner was a landmark in this part of Coruscant, a greasy spoon restaurant run by Dexter Jettster, a four-armed Besalisk with a heart of gold and connections throughout the galaxy's underworld. I'd been here a few times, and the food was actually pretty good if you didn't think too hard about what you were eating.
It was thanks to Dex I was able to find a specialist. Not just any specialist but one that could build the craft and build the things I needed.
Behind the diner, tucked into an alley that most people would walk past without noticing, was a small shop with a flickering sign that read "Jinx & Hex" in Basic. The windows were tinted so dark you couldn't see inside, and the door was reinforced durasteel that looked like it could withstand a direct hit from a blaster cannon.
She was a Twi'lek, short even by her species' standards, with deep blue skin that seemed to shimmer in the workshop's lighting. But she was slender, with a supple figure. Her lekku were wrapped in protective coverings to keep them out of the way while she worked, and she wore goggles that made her eyes look enormous. Her clothes were covered in grease and burn marks.
Loud music blasted from speakers mounted in the corners, some kind of Outer Rim rock that was all bass and screaming vocals. It was the kind of music that made your teeth vibrate and your ears ring.
I reached out with the Force and gently lowered the volume on the speakers.
The effect was immediate. As Josa spun around, her hand moving faster than I could track, and suddenly there was a blaster pointed directly at my face.
"I have three rules," she said, her voice sharp and dangerous. "All commissions must be paid upfront. I don't do slicing. And don't ever touch my music."
I just crossed my arms and smiled. "Josa, it's me."
She blinked, then her expression shifted from dangerous to delighted in an instant. She lowered the blaster and pulled off her goggles, revealing bright purple eyes that sparkled with mischief.
"Little Sephi boy!" she exclaimed, her voice warm with genuine affection. "It's good to see you again! Tell me, did you get taller?"
"Josa," I said, trying to keep my voice stern but failing. "Is my stuff done?"
She pouted, her lower lip sticking out in an exaggerated expression of disappointment. "All work, no play. Your friend Anakin is way more fun than you."
Of course she thinks Anakin is fun.
"But yes, yes," Josa continued, waving a hand dismissively. "Your commission is done. Come on around and see it."
I made my way behind the counter, and Josa pulled out a large metal case from under her workbench. She opened it with a flourish, and I felt my breath catch in my throat.
"Wow," I said, unable to keep the awe out of my voice.
Inside the case were robes and armor unlike anything I'd ever seen. The robes were a dark blackish-gray color, made from a material that seemed to absorb light rather than reflect it. They looked like traditional Jedi robes at first glance, but as I looked closer, I could see the subtle weave of cortosis threads running through the fabric.
"Cortosis-weaved Jedi robes," Josa said proudly. "Lightsaber resistant. Won't stop a direct hit, but it'll give you a fighting chance if someone tries to cut you down from behind."
The armor was even more impressive. It was clearly inspired by Mandalorian design, was sleek and functional, with plates that would protect vital areas without restricting movement. But it had been adapted for a Jedi's needs, with attachment points for a lightsaber and pockets for various tools and equipment.
"Mandalorian-inspired Jedi armor," Josa continued, running her hand lovingly over the plates. "Mixture infusion of beskar and cortosis. The beskar provides the strength and lightsaber resistance, while the cortosis adds an extra layer of protection against energy weapons."
She picked up one of the plates and showed me the interior. "See these channels? They're designed to distribute kinetic energy across the entire surface, so even if you take a direct hit, the force will be spread out instead of concentrated in one spot."
"What about the cape?" I asked, noticing the dark fabric folded at the bottom of the case.
Josa shrugged. "I could make it very durable, but you're not going to survive being stabbed in the back with a lightsaber. It'll just hurt like hell instead of killing you instantly."
I'll take 'hurt like hell' over 'instant death' any day.
I pulled out the mask next, a sleek, elegant piece that would cover the upper half of my face while leaving my mouth and jaw exposed. It was the same dark color as the robes and armor, and I could feel the quality of the craftsmanship just by holding it.
"What about the mask?" I asked.
Josa's expression became slightly apologetic. "That one I ran out of beskar for, so I had to use the rest of the cortosis and mix it with songsteel. Will that be fine?"
I nodded, running my fingers over the smooth surface. "It's perfect, Josa. All of it is perfect."
She beamed at the praise. "I'm glad you like it! Though I still can't believe a Jedi had a hundred thousand credits and all that rare material just lying around. Where did you get it?"
"I told you," I said, carefully packing the armor and robes back into the case. "Unless you're going to join my organization, it's need-to-know."
Josa stuck out her tongue at me. "Boo. You know I hate being tied down to big groups."
I sighed. "Fine. I understand."
And I did understand. Josa was a free spirit, someone who valued her independence above everything else. She'd built this shop from nothing, had created a reputation as one of the best custom craftspeople in the Mid-Levels, and she'd done it all on her own terms.
She's what you'd get if you mixed Jinx from Arcane with Vette from the Star Wars MMO, I thought. She's brilliant and chaotic at the same time, but the most important part. She's loyal to her friends but allergic to authority.
Which is fine with me. It's hard to find a skilled craftsman that can forge Beskar and cortosis the way she does. Her services aren't cheap, but they are worth it.
"Can you do me another favor?" I asked.
Josa's eyes lit up with interest. "Depends. Are you going to let me style your long hair? I'm thinking dreadlocks with a shaved side. Or maybe a tattoo on one of the sides. Maybe both!"
I couldn't help but smile. "How about later? I actually like those ideas, except for the tattoos. But right now, I need you to get me in touch with someone on Ryloth."
Josa's expression shifted, becoming more serious. She leaned back in her chair, studying my face with those bright purple eyes.
"Why do I feel like I know what you're going to ask?" she said quietly.
"Because you're smart," I said. "And because you know I wouldn't ask unless it was important."
She sighed, running a hand over one of her lekku. "Your gonna ask me if I can want me to reach out to Cham again?"
"Yes," I confirmed. "I need to talk to him about the future of your people. About what's coming and how we can prepare for it."
Josa was quiet for a long moment, her expression conflicted. Cham Syndulla was a freedom fighter, a revolutionary who had been fighting against the various groups that had tried to enslave or exploit Ryloth for years. He was also, I knew, someone Josa had history with, though she'd never told me the exact nature of their relationship.
But the picture on her wall of the two of them says a thousand words.
"Come on, Sephi boy, do I really have to do that? I can give you a discount on your next commission or make your other friends some cool stuff instead. So what do you say?"
My golden eyes narrowed. "Josa. You charged me 50,000 credits each for both of my commissions. Speaking of which, is Anakin's done?"
"Oh right..." Josa said, sitting up suddenly, her eyes going wide with excitement that seemed entirely genuine. "I almost forgot!"
She launched herself out of the chair with surprising agility and ran toward the back of the shop where she lived, a small apartment carved out of what had probably once been storage space. I heard the sound of things being moved, metal scraping against metal, and what might have been a small avalanche of components.
"Josa, be careful...."
A wrench flew out of the doorway, missing my head by centimeters.
"I'm fine!" her voice called back, muffled by distance and whatever she was digging through. "Just... give me a second!"
More sounds of organized chaos. A datapad skittered across the floor. A box of what looked like power cells tumbled out and scattered. I caught one before it could roll under a workbench, setting it carefully aside.
Then Josa appeared, sliding on top of a large metal case like it was a sled, her face split by a wide grin that showed genuine pride in her work. She came to a stop right in front of me, hopping off the case with practiced ease.
"Here you go, boss man." She opened the case with a flourish, and I felt my expression shift from frustration to genuine appreciation.
Inside, nestled in custom-fitted foam, was Anakin's armor. And it was beautiful piece of work.
Mandalorian-inspired but fitted for a Jedi's needs. The chest plate was sleek and form-fitting, designed to allow full range of motion while providing maximum protection. The pauldrons were asymmetrical, the right one slightly larger to protect the dominant arm during lightsaber combat. The gauntlets had built-in compartments that I recognized as spaces for various tools and equipment. The leg armor was segmented for flexibility, and the boots were reinforced but light.
But it was the helmet that really caught my attention. Actually, there were two helmets in the case.
The first was a remake of Revan's mask for me. T-visored and imposing, painted in dark colors with subtle gold accents. The second was a remake of Vader's helmet for Anakin. It was clearly meant for situations where Anakin needed to be someone other than a Jedi.
These will be our persona's when we need to do things without being completely attached to my new order. My mask will be mainly for my Noctis persona.
The second was more of a mask, covering the upper face and leaving the lower half exposed. It was sleek, almost elegant, designed to work with Jedi robes rather than full armor. The design was reminiscent of ancient Jedi war masks, but modernized and refined.
"Glad to see you like my work," Josa said, her voice carrying genuine satisfaction. "I don't understand why you had me make two different helmets though. But I think the mask works well." She paused, her expression becoming more serious. "But just so you know, you and Anakin will have to come back in the future for adjustments. I doubt you both will stay 5'11" forever. At most, maybe 6 feet and some change."
I stood up, closing the case carefully. I looked down at Josa, who barely came up to my shoulder despite my own relatively modest height for my age.
"There is a method to my madness, Josa," I said, keeping my voice neutral. "But fine. Since you're done with my commissions, can you just give me a holo frequency for Hera? I'll do the introduction myself."
Josa's eyes gleamed with mischief. "Fine, fine. I can do that. Let's say a fee of 500 credits."
My eyes narrowed. "No can do. I'm broke."
"Hahahaha..." Josa laughed, the sound genuine and unrestrained. "You're not serious, are you, Mr. Big Book Writer and Game Maker?"
My expression didn't change.
The laughter died. "Oh shit... I didn't think it was that bad. What, are your books not selling anymore?"
I shook my head, feeling the weight of financial reality pressing down on me. "No, between the Dune and Conan the Barbarian books, and my D&D game, everything is doing very well. But my problem is I'm spending credits quicker than I get them." I sighed, rubbing the bridge of my nose. "I'm paying for too many things at once, but until I come across a big score, I'll be in debt by next month."
Josa's expression shifted from amusement to genuine concern. She hopped back into her chair, spinning it to face me fully. "Why not be a bounty hunter?"
"Too small pay and unstable work," I said immediately. "Unless the contract can pay 100,000 credits at minimum and wouldn't get me in trouble with the Hutts and other syndicates, then sure. Plus some contractors don't like to pay."
"Okay, what about going treasure hunting?" Josa suggested, leaning forward. "I know the Jedi have forgotten temples all over the galaxy that are lost or forgotten. I'm sure those have plenty of treasures worth a good number of credits."
I chuckled, but there was no humor in it. "I'm not selling Jedi artifacts. Some of that stuff is very dangerous if in the wrong hands. And don't even think about suggesting Sith artifacts. Those will either be destroyed or studied."
"What about Krayt dragon pearls?" Josa said, and I could see her mind working. "Those are worth a fortune. So you and your group of Jedi can hunt five or ten of them together. You could get yourself enough credits to not have to worry about anything."
She wasn't wrong, but there were multiple problems with that plan. If it was just me and Anakin, then I would say yes. But I didn't want to get my friends in danger. Well, more danger than they'd already signed up for.
"So there's a problem with that plan," I said, organizing my thoughts. "First, Krayt dragons aren't your average-sized lizard. Depending on how old they are will determine how big they are. Not to mention there are different types, the regular Krayt, Red Canyon Krayt, and the Greater Krayt. If you're really unlucky, the most formidable type is the Leviathan Krayt dragon. These things will be the size of a decent space cruiser if not way bigger."
"So you're saying it's impossible for you?" Josa asked.
I shook my head. "That's not what I'm saying. Look, Jedi don't go out of their way to hunt creatures for sport or greed. Even if I do need the credits."
Unless I can get my hands on Plagueis's accounts or the clone army funds. Unfortunately, Palpatine is in charge of it now.
I wonder if I can get him to give me or Anakin a loan?
The thought sent a shiver down my spine, even though it was meant as a joke. Oh God, no. Never going there.
Then Josa spoke, and her voice carried a note of excitement that made me pay attention.
"Why not go to the Krayt Graveyard?"
My eyes widened. "Wait... the what?"
"Yeah, I heard rumors that there's this Krayt Graveyard where all Krayt dragons go when they get too old and are ready to die. I don't know where it is, but if you don't want to fight them, then go there. Think of all the dragon pearls you could find there. There should be a good number of them, plus their bones and venom sacks if you can find them are worth a lot of credits. You could make a few hundred thousand if not millions of credits in one go."
My mind raced. The Krayt Graveyard. I'd heard about in legends, but I'd never thought...
"You could also go to Canto Bight on Cantonica, or the planet Kaal," Josa continued.
"Cantonica is a desert planet known for its casino city. Kaal is a tropical resort world located in the Mid Rim with numerous casinos. Nar Shaddaa is another choice, but if you don't want to die before leaving the planet or piss off the Hutts, I would avoid it. Don't even think about gambling here on Coruscant. Well, dressed like a Jedi anyway. I don't think they do blood tests here, but you can never be too sure."
The Krayt Graveyard. It was perfect. No fighting, no putting my friends in unnecessary danger, and potentially enough credits to fund everything I needed for the next several years. The bones alone would be valuable for various applications, and the pearls...
I moved before I could think about it, picking Josa up and spinning her around. She laughed, kicking her feet in the air, her lekku swaying with the motion.
"Calm down, little Sephi boy!" she said, but her voice was filled with genuine happiness. "I know, I know, I'm a genius."
I kissed her on the cheek, setting her down gently. "You absolutely are. You just saved me so much time."
"Awww, little Sephi boy, you're so sweet." She grinned up at me. "I'll also take credits as payment."
"Why do you keep calling me 'little Sephi boy'?" I asked, genuinely curious. "I'm 13 and taller than you."
Josa hopped back into her chair and began pressing buttons on a holo communicator. "I sent you Hera's frequency. And I call you little Sephi boy because you're a baby compared to me."
I lifted an eyebrow. "How old are you?"
"Oh, little Sephi boy, didn't the Jedi ever tell you not to ask a girl her age?" She paused, then grinned. "But if you must know, I am 24 years old."
I just narrowed my eyes, looking at Josa, then sighed. It's hard to believe this girl whose only 5'3 is older than me.
"Thanks, Josa," I said, picking up the metal cases. "I'm leaving Coruscant starting tomorrow, so I don't know when I'll be back."
Josa waved her hand dismissively as she put on her goggles, and sparks began to fly as she returned to her work. But just before I reached the door, her voice stopped me.
"Cain."
I turned. She'd pushed her goggles up, and her amber eyes were serious.
"Be careful out there," she said quietly. "You're doing something big. I don't know what exactly, but I can tell. And powerful people get angry when their status is threatened. And they get dangerous as well."
"I will be. I promise."
She nodded,and pulled her goggles back down. "Good. Now get out of here. I've got work to do."
I smiled and left the shop, the metal cases felt heavy in my hands but my heart somehow lighter.
I went to my apartment to do the next part of my plan. I set the metal cases down carefully near the door, then moved through the familiar space getting everything ready.
I took a shower first. Washing away the sweat and tension of the day, watching it spiral down the drain and wishing I could wash away my worries as easily.
After drying off and changing into comfortable clothes, I made myself a simple meal, nothing fancy, just protein bars and some fruit I'd picked up from a vendor near the Temple. I ate while my mind was already moving ahead to what came next.
When I finished, I moved to the kitchen area and knelt beside the refrigeration unit. My fingers found the hidden catch, and a small panel slid open with a soft click.
Inside was a compartment no larger than my hand, lined with sound-dampening material and shielded against electronic surveillance. And nestled within that compartment was a device that represented years of careful planning and enormous risk.
The communicator was a work of art, round, sleek, and black as the void between stars. Its surface was smooth and featureless except for a single activation stud and a series of micro-ports for data transfer. The design was elegant in its simplicity, but I knew the technology inside was anything but simple.
It was a two-way encrypted communication system, but with a crucial limitation: it could only establish two-way communication with other users who possessed an identical device. I could send messages to anyone, anywhere in the galaxy, but they couldn't call me back unless they had one of these communicators. It was a security feature, not a bug, it meant that even if someone intercepted a transmission, they couldn't trace it back to me or force a connection.
I'd commissioned the design from a Givin mathematician who specialized in encryption algorithms, had it built by a Bith engineer who didn't ask questions, and had the final assembly done by three different technicians who each only saw one component. The result was a communication system that was, as far as I knew, completely secure.
As far as I know, I reminded myself. Palpatine must not be taken lightly. He's a politician with mystical powers. I need to cover everyone of my bases.
I carried the communicator to the living area and retrieved one of the metal cases. Inside, beneath the armor I'd commissioned from Josa, was a set of robes and a mask.
The robes were simple, black, hooded, designed to conceal rather than impress. They were also made from a material that didn't reflect light in quite the right way, making it difficult for cameras to get a clear image.
But it was the mask that would transformed me.
I lifted it carefully from its cushioned compartment. The design of an imitation of Revan's mask was not a perfect copy, but that was on purpose. The sleek black and gray color, with gold lining of the T-vizor. It close enough enough that anyone familiar with ancient Sith history would recognize the inspiration.
I'd chosen the design deliberately. Revan had been many things a Jedi and Sith, a savior, and conqueror, but above all, he'd been someone who understood that sometimes you had to work outside the system to save it. That sometimes the rules had to be broken to preserve what mattered.
I'm just hope I'm not becoming the very thing I'm trying to prevent.
The robes settled around me like a second skin, as I moved to the window and closed the blinds, plunging the apartment into darkness. Then I activated the low-level lighting I'd installed specifically for these meetings, just enough to see by, not enough to create shadows that might be visible from outside.
I placed the communicator on a sleek black platform I'd built into the coffee table. The platform had a series of indicator lights along its edge, currently all red, showing that the system was inactive and no connections were established.
I took a deep breath, centering myself in the Force. When I wore this mask, I wasn't Cain Vizsla, former Padawan of the Jedi Order.
I was Noctis. The man in the shadows that moved through the galaxy's underworld, the voice that whispered in the ears of the powerful, the architect of a network that spanned from the Core Worlds to the Outer Rim.
I put on the mask.
The change was immediate and profound. The mask's interior was lined with a material that altered my voice to make it unrecognizable. But more than that, wearing it changed my psychology. It was like putting on armor, not physical armor, but mental and emotional protection. Behind this mask, I could be ruthless. I could make the hard choices. I could do what needed to be done without the weight of personal connection holding me back.
Is that healthy? A small voice in the back of my mind asked. Creating a separate identity to do the things you're afraid to do as yourself?
I pushed the thought aside. I could worry about my mental health later. Right now, I had work to do.
I pressed the activation stud on the communicator. The device hummed softly, and the red lights on the platform began to change. One by one, they shifted from red to green as the system established encrypted connections across the galaxy. Each light represented a different operative, a different node in the network I'd spent years building.
It took a few minutes for all the lights to turn green. Around three minutes of watching and waiting, of feeling the anticipation build in my chest.
When the last light turned green, I pressed another button. The communicator projected a holographic display above the platform. Multiple imaged figures appeared arranged in a circle around me. Each figure was rendered in blue light, their features obscured by the masks they wore.
I let the silence stretch for a moment, establishing the tone. Then I spoke, and my voice came out altered by the mask. It was deeper, carrying an authoritative tone that my natural voice couldn't quite match.
"This is Noctis. Security code 11122019. Do you read me?"
The first response came immediately, a female voice that was confident. "I read you, Noctis. This is Owl. Security code 06021980."
Her holographic figure wore a blue owl mask with golden eyes that seemed to glow even in the holographic projection. Bo-Katan mask seems to work out perfectly for her.
"Good," I said. "Now the rest of you sign in, and we will begin this meeting."
"This is Geisha. Security code 06191999."
Geisha's mask was elegant and ornate, a traditional Geisha design with a golden leaf crown. Her voice carried more emotion than Owl's. It took a lot of convincing, but I was able to get Padame to join my group.
"This is Princess. Security code 02122010."
Princess's mask was striking, all white with a black crack running through the middle, painted to look like it was dripping gold blood. Satine's mask is working well.
"This is Artist. Security code 06162002."
Artist was the only male voice in the group, and his mask reflected his codename, a round design composed of multiple colors that seemed to shift and blend even in the holographic projection. He is Bail Organa, probably the man I trust most in the political world.
"This is Gaia. Security code 06231983."
Gaia's mask looked like living green moss shaped into the form of a beautiful woman's face. Her voice was thoughtful, measured, carrying a connection to something deeper than mere politics. She is Mon Mothma.
"This is... Frost. Security code... 01302009."
Frost's voice was hesitant, nervous, and I could hear the uncertainty in every word. Her mask was yellow and round with blue eyes, simpler than the others. She Riyo Chuchi, the newest member of the network, recruited only six months ago, and she was still learning to navigate the dangerous waters we swam in. But she has potential.
Then Princess spoke, her voice carrying a note of concern. "Aren't we missing one? Where is Emerald?"
Emerald was the code name I assigned for Onaconda Farr.
"Be at peace, Princess," I said,. "Emerald is in the middle of an assignment for me. He will be briefed on the details of this meeting at a later time. But I'm sure you all wondered why I gathered you here."
Gaia spoke next. "You message said this has to do with the Confederacy of Independent Systems the Outer Rim formed. I take it you want to warn us of a ploy that might occur?"
I nodded, even though the gesture was somewhat lost in the holographic projection. "Yes, Gaia, that is correct. What I am about to tell you is something not even the Jedi know, and they will not know for the foreseeable future. The CIS is being led by the former Jedi Master Count Dooku. But he is nothing more than a pawn for the Sith."
The silence that followed was profound. I could feel the shock radiating through the connection, even across the vast distances that separated us.
Princess was the first to speak,. "Your assistant told me this some time ago. Are you saying you will now tell us all who this Sith is and what position they hold in the Republic Senate?"
Satine you must learn to keep your mouth shut really. Just because you can piece it together from a hint I gave, that it's Palpatine doesn't mean everyone else should know. If to many people knew then Palpatine will notice the emotional changes to the senators around him.
But if I keep them in the dark for to long, when they find out they will probably lose all trust in me. Ok Satine I guess I can let them know.
"Yes, Princess, that is why we are here," I said. "Be aware we are not to make any direct moves against the Sith. We are to move discreetly as possible until we are ready to fully announce ourselves. Is that understood?"
"Yes," they said in unison, their voices blending into a single affirmation.
I took a breath, feeling the weight of what I was about to reveal. Once I said this, there was no taking it back. These people would carry this knowledge, and it would change how they saw everything.
"The Sith Lord's true identity is Sheev Palpatine, and his Sith name is Darth Sidious."
The silence was deafening.
Then I continued, laying out the pieces of Palpatine's plan that I could safely reveal. I told them about his rise to power, about how he'd manipulated his way into the position of Supreme Chancellor. I told them about the clone army being built in secret, about the plans to destroy the Jedi Order, about the birth of an Empire that would crush freedom across the galaxy.
I didn't tell them everything. I couldn't. Some knowledge was too dangerous, too specific. I didn't mention Order 66 by name. I didn't mention Palpatine's plans for immortality or the depths of his power. That was a problem for the Jedi to worry about. But I told them enough to understand the threat and to be afraid.
"That's impossible," Geisha said, and I could hear the disbelief in her voice. "How did the Jedi not know this? How did I not know this. I know Palpatine, there would have been signs."
I understand your frustration Padme. The man you looked up to as a mentor and friend has been plotting behind your back and even manipulating you.
"The Sith have been hiding in the shadows of the galaxy for thousands of years," I said, keeping my voice steady and authoritative. "They've been building their power and influence, waiting for the chance to exact their revenge. Palpatine is one of the finest Sith his order has produced, and he will bring their plan to fruition if we don't stop him."
Frost spoke next, her voice trembling slightly. "Why not tell the Jedi then? Surely they can arrest him, and then we'll be done with this Sith business and clean up the Republic of its corruption."
Oh Riyo I wish I could trust the Jedi to do that. But part of me knows if Palpatine is exposed he will have a contingency plan. And I need him somewhere I know he will be. So I can worry about Dooku.
Plus Palpatine still has a use. I need to find all the corrupt senators and his hidden Sith cults he has created over the galaxy. Not to mention he's the enemy I need to help elevate my knew order once it becomes stable.
"I wish it was that easy, Frost," I said, and I let some genuine regret color my voice. "Palpatine has a lot of political influence and power that can protect him from being arrested. Plus, he is very powerful in the Force, enough to give the Grandmaster of the Jedi Order a run for his money, if not completely beat him. I'm not saying he can beat the whole Jedi Council at once. But with his powers and influence, he possibly could."
"So you're saying there's nothing we can do?" Frost asked, and I could hear the despair creeping into her voice.
"Of course not," I said firmly. "We build our power between the Inner and Outer Rim. We make a new government and Jedi Order. By doing this, we cut his influence if we get the CIS to drop Dooku and follow us we will hold more power to stop him."
"But what about Dooku?" Princess asked. "Surely you don't expect us to ignore him?"
"No, leave that to the new Jedi Order," I said. "They will take care of it, but it won't be clean. The Sith are like an infection, if you don't take care of it properly, it will come back stronger than ever. But for right now, I want you all to prepare. In one week, you all will meet the CIS on a planet of my choosing to begin negotiations for a new alliance. The new Jedi Order's grandmasters will be there. Each group will work together to create a new government."
"What about Dooku and Palpatine? Won't they find out and do something to stop you?" Gaia asked.
"Palpatine won't move yet directly," I said with certainty. "He's patient. He'll wait for the right moment. But Dooku will act on his behalf. Let me worry about him."
Artist spoke for the first time since signing in. "You're asking us to trust you with a lot, Noctis. To trust that you know what you're doing. That you can handle these Sith Lords and keep quite about the corruption of our senate."
"I'm not asking you to trust me blindly," I said. "I'm asking you to trust the work we've done together. The network we've built. The relationships we've forged. I have given you all evidence of corruption over the years. And have showed you a better way. I'm asking you to trust that I wouldn't risk everything we've worked for if I didn't believe we could succeed."
"And if you're wrong?" Princess asked, her voice sharp. "If Palpatine moves faster than you expect? If Dooku proves more dangerous than you anticipate?"
"Then we adapt," I said simply. "We've always adapted. That's why we've survived this long. That's why we'll continue to survive."
Owl spoke next. "What do you need from each of us specifically? What are our assignments?"
"Owl, continue with the assignments I already placed you on. " I said. "I need to know the moment I need to know the moment changes are made on Kamino. Geisha, you are my eyes and ears since you are in Palpatine's inner circle. Princess, keep watching things on your planet and those who are in the neutral systems. If they side with anyone I need to know."
I paused, then continued. "Artist, I need you to establish contact with independent shipyards. We're going to need ships, lots of them, and we can't go through official channels. Gaia, reach out to the agricultural worlds. Start planting the seeds for a new alliance. Don't be obvious about it, but let them know there are alternatives to the Republic and the C.I.S."
"And me?" Frost asked, her voice small.
"You have the most important job of all," I said, and I meant it. "I need you to copy everything you to watch and learn from everything going. Right now you don't have any actual political power, but soon that will change. I need you to strengthen your heart."
"Strengthen my heart?" Frost's said in confusion. "What do you mean?"
"When news hits the galaxy of what we are doing things will become messy. Planets and systems will be caught in a three-way deadlock for power and influence. You need to steel your resolve to make a decision for you and your people when the time comes."
The silence that followed was heavy with understanding and fear.
"One week," I said, bringing the meeting back to focus. "In one week everything changes are you all prepared?"
"Yes," they said, one by one, their voices carrying determination despite the fear.
"Good," I said. "Then may the Force be with us all. We're going to need it."
I reached for the communicator, preparing to end the connection. But before I could, Gaia spoke one more time.
"Noctis," she said softly. "Thank you. For trusting us with this. For believing we can make a difference."
"We will make a difference," I said. "We have to. The galaxy is counting on us, even if they don't know it yet."
I pressed the button, and the holographic figures dissolved into nothing. The lights on the platform shifted from green back to red, one by one, as the connections terminated. Within moments, I was alone again, sitting in the darkness of my apartment with only the faint glow of the indicator lights for company.
I removed the mask slowly, feeling the weight of being just Cain again settling back onto my shoulders. For a moment, I just sat there, holding the mask in my hands, staring at its sleek surface.
What am I doing? I thought. I'm thirteen years old, and I'm orchestrating a conspiracy that spans the galaxy. I'm manipulating people, building secret networks, preparing for a war that hasn't started yet.
Am I any better than Palpatine or the Sith?
The thought felt like poison, and I couldn't shake it. Palpatine manipulated people for power. I manipulated people to stop him. But was the difference in motivation enough to justify the methods?
It has to be, I told myself. Because if it's not, then everything I'm doing is meaningless.
I stood up, my legs stiff from sitting in one position for too long. I carefully packed away the mask and robes, returning them to their hidden compartment. The communicator went back beneath the refrigeration unit, concealed once more behind the false panel.
When everything was put away, I moved to the window and opened the blinds. Coruscant's endless cityscape stretched out before me, a sea of lights that never dimmed. Somewhere out there, Palpatine was planning. Dooku was preparing. The clone army was still growing. And the galaxy was sliding inexorably toward war.
And tomorrow, everything changes.
I looked down at my hands. I'm not built for this, I admitted to myself. I'm not ready to lead a revolution, to reshape the Jedi Order, to stand against the most powerful Sith Lord in a thousand years.
But built for this, ready or not, it was happening. The wheels were in motion. The pieces were moving into place, and I was at the center of it all.
Tomorrow would be a long day, and beyond that, the real work would begin.