*Epilogue*
Imperial Intelligence Agent Oblivion paced back and forth between the ring of consoles in his quarters, his specialized walking cane gripped lightly in his hands as he did so. The pacing was slow enough that he did not really need the cane, but his knee had never fully recovered from the injury, so he kept it on hand, in case. The sound of his boots landing on the decking were heavy as he furiously thought through the logic and planning. The stone tablet was resting on a small table brought out for the purpose.
“How soon until Lieutenants Taggert and Wembley are finished with their debriefing, Captain?” he asked, eyes still focused through his mask at a spot a meter in front of him. He did not turn to look at the Cassowary’s captain as he stood rigidly at attention.
“At least thirty minutes, Agent,” the man said. Oblivion could hear the faint tones of discomfort in the man’s voice. He grinned slightly, knowing the helmet and mask would cover any sign of such amusement. It would not have been proper for the situation. “The preliminary report indicates that the mission was successful, however, and managed to remain covert. We will have to wait for the full debriefing to see what happened to Ensign Scarn.”
“No need,” Oblivion said, holding up a hand as he paced. “I left orders in the Ensigns’ datapad before he left, and the Lieutenant Taggert would have pointed it out for him to find. I want him among this ‘Field Group’ as a long-term observer. If their Captain Olto is who I think he is, we’ll be wanting a spy among their ranks soonest.”
“Understood, Agent Oblivion,” Captain Barrin said, though Oblivion could hear and sense the lie. Barrin did not understand, of course. What’s more: he did not want to. Barrin was a good enough Fleet Officer in that light; he knew his limitations and boundaries, and that Imperial Intelligence was not under his purview. He understood their necessity, so he tolerated having Intelligence members aboard his ship.
“But I am concerned about the covert part of the mission,” Oblivion said, mostly to himself, but his helmet’s vocal apparatus would ensure Barrin would hear it. “The Commander down on Saulapran would have had orders to not take overt actions against us, for fear of discovery by the civilian population. We will have to take that possibility into account for future planning.”
There were several silent seconds as Oblivion continued to look for potential outcomes, until Barrin gave a diffident cough. Oblivion stopped his pacing to look at the captain. He took the cane in his hands and rested the ring-shaped end between his feet, hands resting on the hooked handle.
“Once Ensign Wembley has completed debriefing,” Oblivion said, his mask facing Barrin, “please send him and the debriefing to me. I would like to speak with him and get his personal perspective of the mission, since he is the only one we have who was in the field. Oh,” he negligently waved a hand as if just remembering, “and please, send Stormtrooper Sergeant Killan Sont here, as well. I wish to discuss a few things with him.”
“Very good, sir,” Captain Barrin said, bowing his head instead of giving a military salute. Oblivion returned the bow, and the Fleet Officer turned smartly on his heels, leaving the chamber.
Oblivion waited until the door had slid itself shut before speaking as if to a ghost. “Apprentice Telasa, what is your analysis?”
Behind Oblivion came the sound of a different set of boots striking the flooring. Oblivion turned to see a young human woman stepping from the heavily shadowed portions of his chambers and into the overhanging lights of his console ring. This human was tall, nearly Oblivion’s own height with his armor, and built strongly. Her garments were a mix of mottled grey, white, and black, resembling Stormtrooper fatigues. Her dark skin and braided white hair stood out in sharp contrast to Oblivions’ enhanced vision.
“Which analysis, Master Oblivion?” she asked, smiling slightly. “Your orders were to only observe and analyze, but you did not give a specific. I could give details about the mission results, or I could tell you how Captain Barrin should accept the inevitable and lose his moustache. It does not suit him.”
Oblivion knew that she was imagining the suffering expression on his face, because her smile was broadening, revealing stunningly white teeth. “The mission results, please,” he said, strained patience showing in his tone even through the helmet.
“The mission might be successful for your long-term goals, Master,” she answered, “but in the short-term, we will be hard-pressed to stop the Mad General.”
“Clarification, please,” Oblivion said, turning fully to face her.
“Long-term, you wish to stop the General from completing his own goal,” Telasa said, “and because we now have tablet, we can do so. However, if it’s possible that he or his Field Commander has recognized your handiwork or influence. If so, they could shift their timetables; if anything, just to spite you. Doing so would endanger civilian lives. That is, to you, an unacceptable end for the means available.”
“Correct,” Oblivion said, nodding. “Recommendation?”
Telasa shrugged. “Continue with achieving your long-term goal,” she said, “since that would have the same result as pursuing the short-term, only making it potentially permanent. We have Scarn among this Field Group, and he is a good intelligent operative. His presence could give us forewarning if the General decides to move, and one of the insurgency groups catches wind of it.”
Oblivion tilted his helmet slightly, and underneath the armor, an eyebrow was raised. “Are you saying that out of logical observation,” he asked, paternal amusement showing in his voice, “or because you still find this operative to be attractive?”
“Why, both, Master,” Telasa said, smiling more broadly. “I believe my attraction is well-justified by his manner and successes.”
Oblivion made a tch sound. “Spare me your youthful fancies,” he said. “Has the computer finished scanning the tablet?”
Telasa nodded and walked over to the holo-projector. She pressed several keys in rapid succession, and the projector whirred to life. A map of the galaxy formed in a hologram between the consoles in fine detail. A bright line began tracing itself from one star to the next, stopping at a small near the edge of one of the galactic arms.
“The endpoint appears to be in the Argos system, on the outer edge of the Lambda Sector,” Telasa said, indicating the star with a pointed finger. “There’s not much there beyond three hot inner planets and two gas giants, but there are at least three moons have a breathable atmosphere.”
“Argos,” Oblivion said, musing at the hologram. “Not heavily trafficked. Not surprising, given what should be awaiting us there. We’ll stay in this system until we know what the General’s plans are, but after that, you’re to inform the Captain that I will be taking a shuttle to the Argos system.” Oblivion smiled under his mask. “I believe he’d appreciate that.”
“Considering how stressed he seems about your presence aboard his ship,” Telasa mused, “I am inclined to agree with you, Master.”
“Such an unruly apprentice,” Oblivion muttered. “You’re lucky that I am your teacher.” He reached out a gloved hand and gestured. The stone tablet lift from its resting spot in the scanner and floated in midair, in the center of the console ring.
“They could never do it,” Oblivion said, regarding the tablet as it hovered in his Force grip. “The Jedi. They worked so hard to hide it and prevent others from reaching it, up to and including one of the Masters breaking the Code and killing others when it was not absolutely necessary.”
Telasa, hearing the tone in Oblivions’ voice through the helmet, stayed quiet but stepped forward in anticipation.
Oblivion held his cane and slapped the hooked end into an open palm. “Cowards,” he said softly, contemptuously. “For all their power and wisdom, they were not willing to accept the painful truth.”
With a speed that would have startled anyone but his apprentice, Oblivion took the cane in both hands and swept it in a low circle, pressing a hidden button on the haft along the way. The vicious snap-hiss of a lightsaber cut through the waiting silence as he swung the hooked end back up, and a glaring red blade sliced through the stone tablet as it floated. With two additional swift movements, he had cut the stone tablet in five segments, and let the chunks of stone fall to the deck. In its place floated a small, stone chunk that had been perforated with three holes, two of which were empty.
Oblivion gestured again with one hand, deactivating the saber-cane with the other. The perforated chunk came to him, and he peered down into the holes.
“Only one,” he said, suddenly sounding tired. “We know what happened to the first, but the second is also missing. That’s troubling.”
“Yes, Master,” Telasa said, nodding. “But it isn’t the end.”
“Correct,” Oblivion said. “With all three, they could have moved forward with their plans. With only one?” he shrugged. “The General will be very limited, ultimately. But he’ll have enough to cause real damage.”
“Then should we find him,” Telasa asked, “or the vial?”
With a pulling gesture, Oblivion drew a small glass vial out of the stone chunk and into his hand. He let go of his Force grip on the stone and it plummeted to the deck, crumbling with the impact. Oblivion gave the vial his full attention, taking it in another Force grip and holding it before himself.
“Where we find one,” he said, pressing on three catches along his left wrist, “we will most likely find the other. Scarn’s mission has gone to the top of priority list, now.”
With the hissing of released air pressure, the glove on his left hand fell away and struck the deck floor with a heavy thump; much heavier than an armored glove would normally be. Oblivion held up his hand, regarding its green tone and heavy scar tissue.
“Sometimes, Telasa,” he said, looking from his green hand to the glass vial, “we must be willing to sacrifice everything of ourselves. The Jedi understood this, but not fully. They would sacrifice their lives without hesitation, but not their power.”
He flexed the muscles in his left hand, and it was sheathed in the corona of blue lightning.
“If the sacrifice is to use the Dark Side as the weapon it is to achieve the goal,” he said, “then someone must make that sacrifice. That’s where the Jedi would hesitate. It is the only way to prevent this nightmare from destroying the galaxy, and they just couldn’t do it.”
The coronal discharge held around his hand suddenly arced up and struck the floating vial, blanketing the object in Force-imbued lightning. Oblivion could see the vial blacken and crack, as the substance inside it was also affected by the Dark Side power. An acrid smoke issued from the cracks in the vial, and suddenly the vial itself shattered, its contents expanded in a small cloud of burnt material.
Oblivion released his Force grip and the lightning from his concentration, letting the remains fall to the deck.
“We will save the galaxy, my apprentice,” he said, reaching down to pick up his glove and reattach it. “By whatever means necessary. Whatever the cost.”
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