"There's never been a Sith aboard Diligence Diligence for a for a reason reason," Rusher said, eyebrows flaring. "It keeps me and my crew safe-and them away from the heavy artillery." He waved at the fuzz of stars beyond one of the Dyarchy's fleets. "Don't they teach you your own history out in the Republic? Maybe you've heard of a little thing called Telettoh's Maxim. It goes-"

"Never let Malak aboard," she finished. she finished.

"You're blasted right!" Generations of military professionals knew the tale of the Republic admiral who'd let a Sith-in-Jedi's-clothing come along for the ride. He'd spent the rest of his career trying to undo the damage. "We'll take their jobs. We'll take their fuel. But we won't take a Sith across the street. Not if I-"

Morrex called from within the pit. "We got fire, Brigadier!"

"At us?" Rusher dashed back to the railing, distracted from his anger.

The comm officer responded by pointing to the monitors. Lights shone on Byllura's surface, where Hestobyll and its continent were now slipping into nighttime. But it wasn't artificial illumination.

Fire.

Kerra limped away from the teenager toward the port window. Studying the surface of the world slipping past, she pointed to locations all along the terminator into night. Rusher joined her, bearing a pair of electrobinoculars. Plumes were rising from several levels of the capital city. "Riots?"

"People are waking up, I'd imagine," Kerra said. "And waking up angry angry." There had been a constant stream of commands coming from the mesa to all of the twins' minions on Byllura, she explained. Now that Quillan's sister had no commands to relay, order was collapsing.

Rusher rubbed his forehead. "And the first thing they do is set their place on fire? That doesn't make any sense at all!"

"How should I know?" Kerra asked. "People have been telling them to work, sleep, and eat for years. This is the first time they've had any options." She paused. "Granted, it's an odd way to spend your first night off."

"Don't ask me," Rusher said. "I blow stuff up for a living." He looked back over his shoulder at the warships outside. "If this is our chance, maybe we'd better slip past now-before they realize how fun it is."

"Yeah," Kerra said. "I think you're-"

"Incoming transmission, Brig!"

Just as Daiman had appeared to them days before, now another Sith materialized in the dim light. A dour-looking Krevaaki, Rusher saw, tentacles draped in a cape. "Who's this?"

"The regent," Kerra said. "I don't know his name." Forward, the boy squealed, mystified by the strange image.

"My name is Saaj Celegian," the figure in the image responded. The Krevaaki coughed and looked down. "I mean, Saaj Calician Calician." He paused, his posture straightening. "I know that now."

Rusher looked at the image, puzzled. "So he knows his name. What's the big deal?"

"I think it is is a big deal," Kerra said. "Quiet." She hobbled over to address the hologram. "What do you want?" a big deal," Kerra said. "Quiet." She hobbled over to address the hologram. "What do you want?"

Kilometers below, Calician stood downstairs in the control room of The Loft. Beside the sleeping Celegian in his tube, the Krevaaki looked up at the seven video monitors, showing images from across the bay in Hestobyll. It was one of the few surviving parts of the surveillance system the floating brains had not replaced-and now it gave him his only detailed view of what was going on.

As commanded, the workers at the secret underground shipyards had started work on more battleships the instant their recently constructed fleet was safely away. Unfortunately, the knowledge of metal-casting procedures lay not with the workers on the scene, but with a small group of experts on one of the lower floors of the mesa complex. Normally, the Celegians carried their instructions to scarlet-clad Unifiers in facilities all across Byllura, allowing them to run many operations at once. But when the hub Celegian stopped routing messages, the factories were caught without know-how at a critical moment. At six Hestobyll sites, molds filled uncontrolled with molten durasteel, overtopping and setting off chains of explosions. He could see that something similar had happened to three of their munitions factories as well.

Heavy lids drooped as Calician watched the chaos spread. Byllura had been a model of Sith centralization, a nonelectronic system centered on a single Lord's will. Now the former regent saw it all ending. A body could survive without a thinking mind only while the organs knew their function. Without One, the network was damaged. Without the will of the twins, it could never be repaired.

"-I said, why are you calling us?"

Hearing the Jedi's voice, Calician shambled back to the holographic setup as best he could on his remaining tentacles. "I am simply calling to learn whether the boy Quillan yet lives."

"Why?" The dark-haired Jedi in the crisp image appeared to grow more reserved. "Are you looking to parley?"

"No, it's too late for that," the Krevaaki said, briefly explaining the mounting industrial disasters spreading across Byllura. He redirected the cam toward a monitor showing Dromika, who had collapsed into a faint after her brother's disappearance through the window. "She cannot tell a physical presence from one she observes through the Force. She cannot see him, so she does not search for him," he said, looking at her motionless body.

"She was the only one who could reach him-and for it, she became as much his slave as I did." Calician refocused the cam on himself and snorted. "Kill him, if it pleases you," he said, lifting a singed stump that once held a lightsaber. "It might please me."

The comment caught the Jedi speechless.

Another explosion came from across the bay, this one so loud it was audible through the control room's windowless walls. "That would be one of the power stations," Calician said.

The woman crossed her arms, her brow furrowed. "You can't just send instructions over a comlink, like anyone else?"

"Our minions have none. A secondary communications system provides a potential avenue for dissenters," he said. "And before you ask, the other Celegians have rebelled, just as One here has. I cannot use them."

"I wasn't going to ask," she said. "But I would ask that you free them."

"That, Jedi, is the last thing I would do," he said. "But I can do no more, anyway. I will leave that to the others, when they arrive." He glanced back at another monitor. "And it seems, now, they have."

"Others? What are you-"

Before Kerra could finish her question, the skies around Diligence Diligence's bridge came alive with motion.

One after another, colossal white vessels leapt in from hyperspace, surrounding the planet and orbiting fleet. Long and majestic, the crystalline warships-like snowflakes on a skewer, Kerra thought-swiftly opened fire on the Dyarchy's battleships.

Kerra stumbled toward the command pit, where Rusher and his crew were only beginning to react. So were the battleships, she saw out the starboard viewport. They didn't need guidance from Byllura to be jolted into defensive action, but they moved sluggishly compared with the cruisers and similarly shaped fighters.

"Get us out of here!" she said.

"Which way?"

"Any way!"

Diligence tossed, banking away from Byllura on a vector through the combat. Watching, Kerra saw the precision with which the newcomers were striking. Two flaming battleships were out of commission-but salvageable. The arrivals were taking care not to destroy their prey. tossed, banking away from Byllura on a vector through the combat. Watching, Kerra saw the precision with which the newcomers were striking. Two flaming battleships were out of commission-but salvageable. The arrivals were taking care not to destroy their prey.

"I've never seen them before," Rusher said, stepping up to the window beside her.

"I thought you lived around here!"

"I live on this ship," he said, fumbling nervously with his cane. "I work all over. But nobody knows how many Sith Lords there are-if these are even Sith."

Kerra scowled. Someone else would sure be nice, for a change Someone else would sure be nice, for a change. But out here, nested within competing Sith statelets, it couldn't be anyone else.

Grabbing onto Rusher's arm as Diligence Diligence weaved-she'd nearly forgotten her injury in the excitement-Kerra foundered emotionally. This was her worst nightmare from Darkknell, realized. It was exactly what she was afraid would happen in the Daimanate, had she caused a collapse from within weaved-she'd nearly forgotten her injury in the excitement-Kerra foundered emotionally. This was her worst nightmare from Darkknell, realized. It was exactly what she was afraid would happen in the Daimanate, had she caused a collapse from within that was visible from without that was visible from without. She looked over her shoulder to Byllura. There wasn't any time to get any of those people free. The whole Dyarchy was collapsing-and, somehow, the twins' rivals had seen it. But how, so quickly?

With a start, Kerra realized the Dyarchy bordered Daiman's territory. Were these ships his? What could Daiman do, she wondered, if he knew the power the twins held? His greatest desire was to subjugate absolutely, to render other organics literal extensions of his will. But the twins had accomplished something he hadn't.

For whatever reason, Daiman still counted his own ego, his own individuality too important. He wanted to subsume others, yet at the same time he enjoyed dominating them too much to truly allow a merger of will and matter. But Quillan and Dromika didn't understand the concept of "other." As near as Kerra could tell, from infancy they'd treated the Force as another of their senses-and they had no clear understanding of where they stopped, and others began. For all his bluster, Daiman had come to his Force powers too late. He had already known who he was by then.

What could Daiman do if he captured the twins now? Could he co-opt them?

Learn from them? from them?

Kerra looked back to the tactical display. They weren't anywhere near escaping the battle zone yet-and there was another vessel, still larger, up ahead. The flagship, hanging back and observing everything.

And at the moment, blocking their path.

Behind, she saw the hologram, still there. "Calician, can't you do something?"

The former regent shook his head, sadly. "This is not my house." He paused, then looked up. "The dowager dowager will decide our fate." will decide our fate."

The image disappeared.

"Tractor beam's got us, Brigadier!"

Rusher looked at Kerra, mouthing the words unbelievingly. The dowager? The dowager?

"That's her," Narsk said, standing in the doorway of the flagship. "That's Kerra Holt." The Bothan looked at the hologram and smiled, toothily. No more running, little Jedi No more running, little Jedi.

And it had been easy, just like the rest of this job.

Narsk had arrived on Byllura just a day earlier, traveling aboard a special stealth fighter contributed by his latest employer. Quickly locating the video surveillance system left over from early in the twins' reign, he'd installed a secret transmitter and left for higher ground, atop the cataracts, to monitor it.

He'd been surprised-but not alarmed-to see the Jedi and her warship appear that morning. But it had worked out well: the artillery carrier's communications were even easier to crack from his position. From them, he learned that Kerra was indeed at the center of the chaos being wrought below; when he'd seen her chasing across the bay to the mesa, he'd directed his client to be at the ready.

And when he'd ascertained that she was in the sanctum, he pulled the trigger, cutting in and giving her the information she needed. He didn't even wait to learn the result, heading back to space-and a rendezvous with the arriving flagship.

Easy. The Jedi had not disappointed.

"Very good, Narsk Ka'hane. Take a seat."

Narsk settled back in a hide-covered chair and watched his own breath as he exhaled. She kept it so cold here. Through the shimmering frost particles, he focused on his employer. She was the best looking of all the Sith Lords he'd worked for, he thought. Daiman tried to look like the center of attention. This woman earned it.

Human and just a few years older than Kerra, the woman struck a noble warrior's pose in white furs and armor. Her skin was clear, freckled with frost. Golden eyes, narrow and fiercely intelligent, looked back at him.

He wasn't human, but if he were- "Thanks for the good work, agent," she said, stepping past him onto the upper deck of the bridge. "And for the thought." She looked down and addressed the hologram. "So you're the Jedi."

"You ... have the advantage."

"Yes, I do," she said. "My name is Arkadia Calimondra. I'm a Sith Lord-and I'm here to help."

Part Three

THE ARKADIANATE.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN.

Hyperspace had become a haven for Kerra; her only one, since arriving in Sith space. Suffering might hold sway on either side, but the weird region between stars was something even the Sith could not ruin.

In the past, when she had traveled between worlds under duress, Kerra had always chosen to make the journey. Diligence Diligence, instead, had been compelled to follow the crystalline flagship and part of its fleet into the hyperspace lane, under threat of disintegration. She'd wanted to object, but Rusher wasn't about to deviate from the course he'd been provided. The day in the Dyarchy had simply been too much. The fight had gone out of everyone-herself, included.

They hadn't been boarded. But before jumping, they'd been ordered to provide information about how many warriors and refugees were aboard Diligence Diligence. Kerra disliked admitting there were hundreds of students on board, but she was more worried the invaders might destroy their warship outright. The woman in the hologram somehow seemed to already know their situation anyway.

The new Sith Lord was a puzzle: serious and direct. Kerra had spent part of the hours in hyperspace parsing Arkadia's few words. Rusher seemed to know nothing of her and her realm. What had the woman's comm officer called it? The Arkadianate The Arkadianate. Another would-be warlord with an eponymous empire. Just what the galaxy needed.

But while Rusher had not recognized the emblem on her flagship-seven interlocking chevrons, one for each color in the visible spectrum-he had recognized the vessel's name. New Crucible New Crucible related to Ieldis, a peculiar ancient Sith Lord who was the favorite of a number of philosophical descendants-including, of all people, Odion. The Crucible of Ieldis had been a novel military institution, created by him to transform peaceful subject peoples into talented warriors; several Sith Lords in more recent times had tried to put their own spin on it. Kerra's heart had sunk on hearing Rusher's explanation. related to Ieldis, a peculiar ancient Sith Lord who was the favorite of a number of philosophical descendants-including, of all people, Odion. The Crucible of Ieldis had been a novel military institution, created by him to transform peaceful subject peoples into talented warriors; several Sith Lords in more recent times had tried to put their own spin on it. Kerra's heart had sunk on hearing Rusher's explanation. From one slave pit to another From one slave pit to another.

Early in the journey, Rusher had gone to his quarters for sleep, or perhaps back to his solarium for fortification. Kerra didn't know. Fearful of leaving Quillan alone-Diligence had no formal brig-she'd tried to rest on the plush floor nearby, where she could keep an eye on him. She'd found it impossible to sleep for more than an hour at a time, given the bustle of the command pit. But at least one person had remained quiet: Quillan had calmed down with every light-year had no formal brig-she'd tried to rest on the plush floor nearby, where she could keep an eye on him. She'd found it impossible to sleep for more than an hour at a time, given the bustle of the command pit. But at least one person had remained quiet: Quillan had calmed down with every light-year Diligence Diligence put between itself and Byllura. put between itself and Byllura.

Kerra gave partial credit for that to Tan. Visiting the bridge to see her former roommate, the Sullustan had spied the distraught Quillan, curled up at the front of the room before his yawning guards. Before Kerra could object, Tan had plopped down on the carpet near the boy, assuming he was just another refugee. In a sense, of course, he was. And as Tan sat chattering away about the sights and sounds of hyperspace around them, Quillan had stopped quaking and started watching her instead.

Kerra had initially feared that the boy was trying to find another potential puppet, but she'd perceived nothing of that in the Force. Rather, the young girl simply seemed to be a calming influence for the troubled teen. Tan was close to Dromika's age, Kerra realized-and just as child-like, in her own bubbly way. From studying in the shadows of the Tengos' apartment one week, to serving as playmate to a Sith Lord the next; it made as much sense as anything else.

The rest of the trip had been an exhausted slide. Momentum had carried Kerra far from that first trip to Chelloa all the way to Byllura. But as Diligence Diligence and its escorts emerged from hyperspace into a bluish pocket of newborn stars, she was filled with dread. She hadn't been in control of her destination during the flight to Gazzari, but at least she'd had a plan for after her arrival. Seeing the white world laced with pink striations looming ahead, she knew nothing but the planet's name. And that had come from their captors. and its escorts emerged from hyperspace into a bluish pocket of newborn stars, she was filled with dread. She hadn't been in control of her destination during the flight to Gazzari, but at least she'd had a plan for after her arrival. Seeing the white world laced with pink striations looming ahead, she knew nothing but the planet's name. And that had come from their captors.

Syned. Reading what passed for star charts aboard his ship, Rusher had said it rhymed, roughly, with lie dead lie dead. She'd thought that was a strange choice of expressions until they got closer. It fit. Syned was a frigid lump. Near to but little warmed by its adolescent star, the globe spun quickly, weak sunlight racing across its surface of water and carbon dioxide ice.

But while that surface had seemed smooth and featureless from orbit, on approach Kerra had seen mammoth slabs tilted diagonally, remnants of tectonic fractures. Elsewhere, bright smears marred the surface, evidence of ancient cryovolcanism. Syned might be lying dead now, but it hadn't always been a quiet place.

Diligence had been directed to land near an icy outcropping just across a wide basin from what appeared to be a small cluster of green houses. Several other starships sat on the ice nearby. had been directed to land near an icy outcropping just across a wide basin from what appeared to be a small cluster of green houses. Several other starships sat on the ice nearby. New Crucible New Crucible didn't follow them down, instead expelling a shuttle to the A-frame building across the frosty plain. didn't follow them down, instead expelling a shuttle to the A-frame building across the frosty plain.

That had been their cue. Now Kerra and Rusher stood, as commanded, on the surface of Syned, both wearing the space suits the brigadier had produced from the hold. A whisper of oxygen clung to Syned's surface, but given the temperature, removing the environment suits would have been the first step in a slow suicide.

Weary from her broken sleep, Kerra looked across the terrain for any clues. The basin was one big parking lot. Tracked vehicles had been out on the ice, running between the ships and the hothouses-if that's what they were. Warmth and Syned didn't seem to go together.

But neither did the pair at the foot of Diligence Diligence's ramp. Kerra had simply thought it before; now she knew it for certain. Rusher was no ally. She glared at him, holding that silly cane of his, even out here. His space suit was clunky and copper-colored, just like hers-and both would have been considered antiques in the Republic. The man shifted back and forth on the ice; Kerra thought he was trying to find which footing would make him look the most statuesque. No wonder he was working for Daiman No wonder he was working for Daiman.

He looked up at Syned's tiny star, visibly traversing the sky. "Join Rusher's Brigade and see the galaxy," he said over the comlink.