The Invisible Hand

Posted on Mon Jun 15th, 2020 @ 3:56am by Amare & Thane

3,491 words; about a 17 minute read

Chapter: Chapter VI: The Last Bastion
Location: The Invisible Hand Luxury Hotel and Resort, Coruscant
Timeline: Early Evening, Mid-Week Three (Days after "She's So Cold")

OLD

Amare awoke with a startled gasp, a volley of air bubbles bursting out from her mouth, as if awakening from a bad dream. Her lungs tried to breathe in through the water as she jerked the shard loose from her right shoulder. After a brief muffled scream, she pushed herself up to the surface with her one good arm. She allowed only her eyes to peek above the placid surface, and in the reflection of her dark oily orbs was fire. Yaxley's ship had crashed head-on into the side of one of the bluffs, a blazing charred mess of metal and starship fuel spewing a curved pillar of flame and smoke reaching up into the sky. Amare could not sense the life of Yaxley, and slipped quietly under the water, back into the depths, her task finally complete.

NEW

Bright lights, smiling attendants of all races, divine architecture and tasteful furniture lined the halls and corridors, greeting the galaxy's sole Sith apprentice as she made her way through The Invisible Hand luxury hotel, an opulent establishment situated in the heart of a once-dead industrial zone on the Republic's capital world. Now, it was a testament to the enduring greed and wealth of Coruscant and its wealthy elite.

Designed in the style of High Human culture for the majority of its layout, The Invisible Hand was adorned with artefacts and displays from many non-Human species, and was certainly not staffed by or purely catering to them. Whilst the majority of the building was recent, by Coruscanti standards, having been constructed in the past few hundred years, several pieces, both large and small, of the ancient Separatist cruiser - the hotel's namesake - were interwoven with the structure and designs present throughout, along with propaganda and artefacts from the short-lived and long-extinct Confederacy of Independent Systems.

The story of the hotel maintained that it had started as a cantina, its original owner having purloined items from the wreckage of the original Invisible Hand after it crashed on Coruscant during the archaic Clone Wars. In the ensuing decades, subsequent proprietors had capitalised on the niche style and historical qualities of the themed business, and it had eventually developed - beyond anyone's expectations then, no doubt - into a sprawling and sophisticated high-end establishment, frequented by wealthy patrons holidaying on the capitol and businessfolk alike. It was also reputable for its ability to maintain privacy, regarding its many and varied guests.

It was this final quality, and perhaps an appreciation for history, that had perhaps convinced Amare's master to use it as a meeting point on Coruscant, given how precarious his legal position on the planet was at the moment. Whilst the official government may have had little reason to be interested in Thane of Caanus, the Reborn Jedi Order had a very different view, convinced of the man's nefarious intent and fall to the dark side.

They probably did not quite appreciate how accurate their fears now were.

An attendant droid greeted Amare at the ornate, elegant doors to the suite her master had booked, completing a quick scan of the Nautolan. Apparently satisfied, the doors swished open, and the droid spun aside, saying nothing more to the aquatic being.

As expected, and like the rest of The Invisible Hand, the expansive suite was beautifully-furnished, using warm colours and softly-contoured furniture, with all surfaces and objects looking as though they had not once been touched or used. A relief in the style of an ancient battle droid was embedded above the doorways, but the most striking display was a piece of charred hull, encased in a display cabinet affixed to one wall, presumably an artefact of the ship was commanded by the infamous cyborg general, Grievous.

Finally, at the back of the room, wide balcony doors had been opened, offering a broad view of the Coruscant cityscape beyond, the air traffic as thick and bustling as ever.

Standing outside, hands resting on the balcony, garbed in elegant and embroidered finery in the Naboo style, was her master, his face turned outward as he regarded the world around him through the holes of his eldritch-styled mask.

Weary from travel, Amare had arrived to Serus' temporary residence wearing the padded vest and olive drab jumper outfit she last wore during their nightmarish excursion on Vaa. She never did find out where Thane or Bomoor had acquired the spare outfit, but she was grateful that it fit her reasonably well. She theorized it was a hand-me-down from a past member of the Red Raptor crew. Thus far, she only knew a little of Berry having been Thane's original failed apprentice, but was there perhaps another woman on board before, she wondered.

"I have done as you ordered, my master," Amare said after descending to one knee a few meters and lowering her head behind where Serus' stood on the balcony.

For a split second, a disturbed part of her mind allowed itself to entertain the vague thought of using the Force to throw her Sith master off to a certain death, but she quickly purged that malicious notion from her conscious thoughts as she knew such an attempt would be suicide, and was not what she wanted or needed to do. Once her training was complete, however...

"You have performed extremely well, Amare," he said, still not looking away from the city. "Everything is proceeding as I have foreseen; Hesk Scivo has assumed control of the Undervos Holdings board already and struck a new arrangement with the Hutt investor over the synthspice production - one Zorbo the Hutt of Nar Shaddaa. The appointment of a senator friendly to our disposition is all but inevitable, too."

Finally, Serus turned to face the kneeling apprentice, his eyes invisible within the darkness of his metal facade. "Rise," he said, extending his hand to her.

Amare raised her gaze up to meet his judging eyes and accepted his hand. She took it with gentle gratitude, dainty blue hand over his, and was guided to her feet as a prince would to a princess. It was a simple gesture, enough to goad a timid smile from her that was impossible to hide.

"Whilst Mister Scivo expressed some reservations around the execution of the latter elements of your mission, he was as effusive as he can be in his praise of the outcome. Your experiences on Sleheyron will be more valuable to you than any Jedi meditation or training remote could ever hope to be - and I am proud."

He gestured to a nearby table that had been arranged on the balcony. Cold foodstuffs had been prepared, along with a carafe of water and a bottle of luminescent wine. There was only enough food for one person, but chairs had been set at either side. Serus removed his mask and placed it on the balcony, the slight sound as it made connection betraying the true weight it held.

"Please, eat," Serus said. Although his voice still had a cold, steely undertone, gone was the twisted muffle that the mask afforded it. His eyes, however, glowed with evident Force corruption.

It had been years since Amare's eyes had beheld such quality food arranged in an elegant display of refined taste and opulence. Unlike the many bland bowls of soup and spacer's rations that had come to dominate her life since leaving Glee Anselm as a young teenager--with the exception of the short time she lived as a businessman's trophy wife on Corellia--Lord Serus had gone out of his way to tailor this meal specifically for Nautolan taste buds and digestive enzymes.

"This is..." she hesitated to say as she held her hand over the metal plate cover to lift and move it aside with a subtle application of the Force. The aroma immediately stimulated every gram of olfactory capacity she had in her nose and head-tresses. "...roasted Batuuan Burra fish...with Glockaw sauce! One of my favourites! How did you know?"

Serus did not answer the question, offering only a light smile to the Nautolan. If there was some hidden knowledge, gathered discretely or otherwise, he did not reveal or discuss it.

Raised by a traditional Nautolan family, Amare did not seat herself straight away when it came to a proper dining table with a formal meal. She stood by her seat and bowed her head, and mumbled an old prayer normally said in Nautila, but spoken in Basic with respect to Serus:

"Hallowed ancestors, we humbly accept the legacy of your labours. Peace be unto you, and bountiful ocean harvests to all the children of the Awa'We'Naka, evermore. Jorori'ne'sai."

She placed both palms, one over the other, lowered herself in a motion vaguely resembling a curtsey, and rose up and promptly seated herself. "You are most kind, my master." She hoped he didn't take that as an observation of any sort of compassion on the Sith Lord's part, just that it was her offering of respect for the reward Serus saw fit to bestow. "I hope someday the people of the galaxy learn to adore your generosity as I have."

With that last comment, the Human frowned a little, but it appeared to be more of an expression of thought than dismay, and it passed as quickly as it had appeared. He nodded before he resumed speaking.

"True to his word, our new Muun ally provided me with the intelligence he had gathered through Zorbo regarding the original mystery investor for the synthspice production," her master said as he assumed the chair closest to him, his appearance remarkably more statesman than Dark Lord. He poured himself some of the glowing wine but did not touch the food. "Whilst they took great pains to conceal their identities and source, the Cartel has long had backroom dealings with TRIO and other Republic affiliates." Serus sipped the wine, appearing satisfied by its taste, but when he spoke again, his interested and half-genial tone took a sharp inflexion. "Jedi agents were the original benefactors."

"This news should surprise me," Amare remarked as she carefully filled her glass with some crystal clear water, "and yet, it doesn't. The more I have come to learn of the modern Jedi ways, the more loathe towards them I have grown. Mother spoke to me of Master Quellus and his lackeys such as that Cathar, Rynseh, who neglect the Temple and devote much of their time to the Senate. I am curious if the warriors of the light were always so corrupt, so embedded with the politicians. Was there was a time when they were worthy adversaries, with nobility in their hearts, untainted by hypocrisy or dealings with those who do not have the people's best interests at heart?"

"Infrequently, variably, in ages long since forgotten by any mortal beings," Serus slowly replied, the ire in his tone balanced by a small slither of amusement at his apprentice's frustration with his former faction. It was something he had complained about and discussed at length, and she had often overheard him debating the matter with Bomoor during the wee hours of the night on the Raptor. There was a heady disdain felt by both former Jedi to the Reborn Order.

"There are well-meaning Jedi that linger still within the Order - those that have not, but may have been tempted to, be lured towards the Rift Knights of ORA, even," the Caanan continued, content to allow Amare to continue eating and drinking as he spoke. She knew he was referring to the likes of Masters Sotah and Thurius, his and Bomoor's own masters, but then his voice dipped into a darker tone. "But they are just as misguided as the creatures they permit to lord over them. Those that could be worthy and make a true difference simply shackle themselves to the ineptitude of their masters and their warped philosophies, just as responsible for letting the rot fester at the heart of the Third Republic. There is no salvation in the Jedi way, and by not forging their own paths, they doom themselves to the same fates."

Serus lifted up his glass of wine again, gave it a brief sniff, and then took another satisfied sip. An appreciative look was offered to the glass as he replaced it on the table. "I intend for you to see this rot for yourself, up close and in person. Perhaps you can judge then whether you feel there is any nobility left in the hearts of the Jedi Knights."

Amare's polite, silent eating etiquette ceased the instant Serus had concluded his sentence. Seldom were her eyelids used, but in that moment she couldn't help but blink her astonishment at her master twice in rapid succession. She wanted to say something, but her mouth was full with her cheek slightly puffed with fish and ocean greens. She swallowed some of the expensive food down, and it was intentionally audible to accent her fearful anticipation of where she suspected Serus was going with this. It turned out to be worse than she could have hoped for.

"Your objectives are two-fold, Amare. I wish for you to infiltrate the Jedi High Temple, disguised as a padawan and making use of your natural talents for Force concealment to do so," Serus said, quite casually. "As well as any data relating to these conspiratorial Jedi agents in the Archives, regardless of how insignificant, I desire the appropriation of an ancient Sith holocron, held by the Jedi since the time of Grand Master Skywalker. It is called the Telos Holocron - the artefact of Emperor Palpatine, the final of Darth Bane's millennial order - until us. It is fabled to contain his darkest teachings and the true history of the Old Empire, as well as chronicling ancient Sith records, no longer transcribed anywhere else. I was surprised to discover Waay or Quellus had not had it destroyed decades ago, though they have kept it secret, but I think it... heretical... to leave it in the hands of the Jedi."

His apprentice continued to stare blankly at him, unmoving, her appetite ruined.

He turned his head to examine the darkening cityscape once more, an increasing number of lights flicking to life across the various skyscrapers and vehicles scorching across the view. "It could be the greatest repository of Sith arcane lore and history in existence, exceeding even that of Darth Bane's relic." Serus looked back to Amare, his pale features thoughtful. "I would accompany you on such an undertaking, but my face, or even that of Bomoor's, is far too well-known. And... this challenge will also provide a unique insight into a great many things, I feel, and is well within your capabilities."

A few more stunned seconds passed before Amare tried a taste of the wine. She didn't even bother with the connoisseur's smell and delicate taste approach; she sipped, fell instantly in love with the taste and the enrapturing glow, then downed the glass. To her great disappointment, she realized there wasn't enough at the table to help her drown her misery. She was still exhausted from her ordeal at Sleheyron, endeavouring to shake off the memories of what had transpired there. With maturity gained from recent near-death experiences, she understood and appreciated the value of her master pushing his apprentice to her limits to make her stronger and more useful for the greater good. Indeed, she was gradually feeling and looking more physically fit and was improving her connection to the Force, but bones were bones, and all living things had limits.

"I never turn down flattery when it's given," Amare finally said as she gently placed her glass down, trying her best to not let her discombobulation show too easily, "but I'm not sure you understand what I'm capable of. I'm still not even sure myself. I can hide from the sight of others really well. I don't even think about it - it's just instinct - but hiding my nature from Jedi in plain sight? Fooling business execs is one thing, but surely Jedi could sense where my heart is, see the mark of the dark side from within my essence?"

With that, Serus actually smiled that typical half-smile of his, pale lip upturning on one side. "Indeed. Your natural affinity for the talent outstrips many of even the most-accomplished masters in the Order, and is comparable to anything managed by me or Bomoor, albeit without the requirement for such terrible focus. Your concern is understandable, and I do not expect you to undertake this task without some preparation to hone your ability."

The Sith Lord put his hand into the lines of his regal finery and withdrew a precious object well-known to both dark Force adepts: the holocron of Darth Bane. Its own signature within the Force had been concealed by Serus'. Whilst both it and its current master were notably different, the auras could easily be subsumed by one another - with little said about the background 'radiation' of the Third Republic's heaving capital planet.

"The apprentice of Bane, Darth Zannah, shared that same natural affinity with you, and accomplished a similar goal two millennia ago," Serus explained, placing the artefact close to Amare on her side of the table. "Rest today. Make use of the hotel's services or enjoy the local entertainment. The next two days are yours to prepare as you see fit, practising here, elsewhere, or even within sight of the temple itself, whilst this suite will remain available to us both. Your reservations about your task are immaterial, Amare. You are capable."

He finished his glass of wine and then rose steadily from the table, brushing his hand over the velvety material of his garb to remove small imperfections from its appearance. A hood, barely distinguishable from the rest of the gaudy outfit when down, was pulled over Serus' head. Whilst it did not obscure his identity to any that knew him, the lavish attire would not be entirely out-of-place for some of the more suspect, but tolerated, socialites of the Coruscanti night scene.

To have the legendary holocron of the Rule of Two's founder with reach again made any desire or appetite for food meaningless to Amare. She hastily set aside her unfinished plate and glass and immediately closed her eyes and willed its pyramidal form to float to her hands as if it were a weightless object in space. To feel it once more within her grasp was both perturbing and exhilarating at the same time. It was no less an experience than the last time Serus had shared the artifact with her. She could feel the commanding influence and dark power from the late Sith Lord who, in his prime, was easily more powerful than both she and Serus combined. And yet, even knowing that she could commune with Bane's gatekeeper to delve into the secrets of the ancient past once again, the name of Darth Zannah intrigued her even more. Never before had the name been spoken to her, and to know that it was Bane's apprentice made her flush with deep curiosity.

"Master, this Zannah you speak of..." Amare began to ask, finding it incredibly difficult to take her eyes off the holocron, its scarlet inner glow rendering the blue skin of her lower face, neck, and hands a vague shade of pink, "...did this person fulfill the Rule of Two? Did Zannah destroy Darth Bane?"

"Good evening, apprentice," Serus said with a small bow of his head to Amare, the appearance of Lord Serus shed in favour of Thane, Caanan gentleman, who offered a brief but charming smile to the young woman. Without so much as a further comment, he began taking long strides towards the balcony doors, back through the suite and waving the attendant droid away that deigned to attempt to assist him with a practised frustration.

Amare's eyes sank back onto the holocron, her lips curling into a wicked grin as she rose to her feet. "I'll take that as a yes," she muttered to herself as she beheld the artifact, willing to rise from her palms and slowly rotating it on its axis. "So, it seems Bane was truly a magnificent Sith. Such was his power that he trained an apprentice to grow strong enough to overcome his might. I must learn more of this Zannah. I must learn everything about the destroyer of a Sith Lord. To be more like Zannah, I must walk the same path, and achieve the same feat of tricking the Jedi in their own home. I will have need of you once more, Coda. You will finally get to see your vaunted Jedi heroes up close on their turf. Together, we will look them in the eyes and see them for what they truly are."

TBC

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