No Clear Victor

During The Face Inside. . .

     The caves were dark, craggy, cold, and monotonous. Unchanging from one tunnel to the next. At least to the untrained eye. For those beings that had eyes.

     Xanthis reached a juncture branching off in three directions. He bolted for the rightmost cave mouth, although it didn’t matter which aperture he took. They all intersected at some point in the complicated tunnel system, but he knew this to be the quickest route to his destination. Before he could pass through the opening, though, he heard a sound and cursed himself. If he’d not wasted time in playing with Sith Squadron, he could have been gone by now. But now he was dead. Despite training, he’d never mastered the skill of absorbing energy, especially on the level of that put out by a blaster bolt. There was nothing he could do but take the hit in his back. No time to spin and deflect the needle of death with his lightsaber. No time to duck. He was. . .dead.

     But he had overestimated the cold-bloodedness of his enemy. The blaster shot hit the tunnel entrance, sending shards of the rock spraying in all directions. Xanthis felt the sharp pain of the fragments on his skin. But he ignored it. He ignited his lightsaber and spun around, ready to defend himself from further attacks. He wasn’t surprised to find the person standing in front of him. The man who’d ruined his life. The man who’d stabbed him in the back, quite literally. The man who’d taken his eyes from him.

     Jace Sidrona.

     The man whom Xanthis was not ready to face. Not yet.

     “So,” Xanthis said, smirking, “waiting for your friends to catch up so you can all gang up on me?”

     Sidrona shook his head once. “We are alone, Xanthis. I collapsed the tunnel behind us.”

     “Sad, what your life has to come to,” Xanthis said dolefully. “Going to such great lengths to get somebody like me alone with you. Why? No success in getting women to be alone with you?”

     Sidrona said nothing.

     “I suppose you expect me to tell you where your master is,” Xanthis said, deciding to take a different route in the mind games. “I’m sorry, but I can’t.”

     “Maybe I’ll make it so you can,” Sidrona said, taking a step forward.

     “No, you misunderstand me,” Xanthis said. “I can’t tell you where he is because he doesn’t exist anymore. Reno is dead.”

     “No,” Sidrona said, but his voice didn’t carry much conviction.

     Xanthis gave a sigh of feigned remorse. “Yes. My master tortured him and then spaced him. It’s been several days.”

     “No,” Sidrona repeated, this time louder. “I would have felt it.”

     “Are you sure?”

     Sidrona didn’t say anything, seemingly reflective. “Yes.”

     “Well—“

     “Cut the crap, Xanthis! Tell me where Reno is!”

     “Or what?” Xanthis demanded. “You’ll kill me?”

     “If need be,” Sidrona said more quietly, but with an edge to his voice.

     “You can’t kill me,” Xanthis said. “You can’t.”

     “I’d like to prove you wrong,” Sidrona said, stepping closer.

     “But you can’t,” Xanthis said, almost laughing. “You have the skill to kill me, but you lack the spirit. Think! Every chance you’ve had to kill me you’ve left me alive. What’s wrong? Afraid I may haunt you for the rest of your dismal life? Is that it? Are you afraid of phantoms? Well, I will tell you now that you need not be afraid of such things. You have far more to worry about in real life, standing right here in front of you. You say we’re alone here. What do you say we finish this. . .once and for all?”

     Sidrona answered not by word, but by blade activation and slash. Xanthis blocked the attack with his purple blade and then batted away another low cut. He let Sidrona go on the offense, content for now to wear down his nemesis and reserve his energy for a deadly comeback. Sidrona kept coming with slashes, stabs and sweeps, but Xanthis blocked them all with finesse. After a left feint Sidrona stepped in close and locked his left leg around Xanthis’s own, cutting back his mobility and therefore ability to repel attacks. The blue blade came around in a cut aimed at Xanthis’s left arm. Collapsing, Xanthis spun around to his left, unlocking their legs and bringing Sidrona down with him. The man hit the dirt face first, his lightsaber digging into the wall near him. Xanthis dove for Sidrona’s head, but his purple blade only found the ground as his target spun away.

     They were both back on their feet again, waving their weapons around in the air. This time Xanthis attacked, bringing his blade down in a fast, low arc towards Sidrona’s feet. When the blade was hopped over, Xanthis brought it around in a 180-degree arc aimed for Sidrona’s head, as if drawing the letter C. Sidrona ducked and rolled, made a back slash from behind at Xanthis’s own feet. Xanthis duplicated the hop to avoid the blade and brought his own blade around in a double-handed cut aimed for Sidrona’s head, as it he were playing smashball. Sidrona ducked at the last second and pushed Xanthis’s blade along the way in the direction of its momentum and got back on his feet. Xanthis spun back around just in time to block the stab aimed at his back.

     Xanthis was getting angry. This was nothing like the cakewalk he’d just had with Skate.

     He swung his blade at Sidrona’s head, but it was blocked. Then, using the Force to increase his adrenaline, he went on a rampage, swinging left, right, up and down, spinning around in a final, powerful slash. But his lightsaber’s amethyst blade met air. Had Sidrona vanished like the Jedi of legend? That question didn’t take more than a second to answer, as Sidrona fell from the rocky ceiling of the cave, right on top of Xanthis. Xanthis hit the ground and crawled away on his back, his blade pointed at Sidrona, who didn’t hesitate for one instant as he batted the purple blade away and leapt. He landed with his foot on Xanthis’s wrist. With his other foot he kicked the hilt out of Xanthis’s hand, and it hit the far cave wall, deactivating.

     Sidrona had him pinned down, defenseless. But Xanthis still had reassurance.

     “Where is he?” Sidrona asked coolly.

     “He is dead.”

     “No, he isn’t!”

     Xanthis felt the heat of the blade near his face.

     “Why should I tell you?” Xanthis asked defiantly.

     “Because I will kill you.”

     “But then you won’t ever find Reno.”

     “And you’ll be dead!”

     “And the chance of seeing your master again dead with me!”

     ”If you won’t tell me then why should I let you live?!”

     “Why should you?” Xanthis asked.

     “Do you want to kill me, Xanthis?” Sidrona asked, catching Xanthis off guard.

     “Yes.”

     “Do you want Reno dead?”

     Xanthis paused, not out of hesitation, but out of reflection. “Yes.”

     “You know, Xanthis, we are the same you and me,” Sidrona said.

     “The resemblance is unmistakable,” Xanthis said dryly.

     “We are the same,” Sidrona repeated. “We are both victims of Reno. We are both blind. You by sight, me by my need for vengeance. But in that, you are doubly blind: in need of vengeance against Reno and me. Tell me where Reno is, and I will have my vengeance. I will have it for me, but you will enjoy his death no less. Because in exchange for telling me where he is, I will let you live for the chance to kill me. I get the chance to kill Reno, you get the chance to kill me, and everything in balanced out.”

     “And once the smoke clears, who gets the chance to kill me?” Xanthis asked.

     “Before the smoke clears, I will,” Sidrona said. “Don’t think I am offering you my life in exchange for Reno’s location or even for Reno’s life. I am offering you the chance to kill me. Big difference. But think about it. Die here and now, or live, with the chance to fulfill some of your dreams, while letting me fulfill the rest of them. It is your choice. Hurry up, before I make it for you.”

     Xanthis felt the heat of the blade come closer to his face. He remembered when he’d felt the heat of that blade on his face before, when Sidrona had taken his eyes from him. While that had blinded Xanthis, it had opened his soul to darkness. In a way, Sidrona had unintentionally enlightened him that day. It had been an act of treachery, but even still, some good came of it. Sidrona was right, of course. They were alike. Reno had ruined their lives, the lives they would have had. But then again, they were so unlike. Xanthis hadn’t killed Sidrona that fateful day years ago. He had spared him. In thanks, Sidrona had destroyed his eyes, maimed him. That had fostered a malice within Xanthis the likes of which not many men could match. Since then, he’d become a merciless purveyor of death and destruction. Those who stood in his or his master’s way were killed. Those whom they needed to use in their plots complied or suffered a terrible fate. That was who Xanthis was now. And it was because Jace Sidrona had made him that way. And Reno. But Reno had made Jace the way he was. It was a cascade event, and the only way Xanthis thought that things could be righted was to kill them both. If that’s all he really wanted—Reno and Jace to die—did it really matter if he was the one to do it? Of course it did. He wanted to see the agony on Reno’s face! But his master, Zarin, had apparently reserved that right for himself. It couldn’t be that they were having tea and cake. But Sidrona was offering him a chance to kill at least one of them. The chance to kill. If he told Sidrona the location of Reno, then Zarin could very well die with Reno. Then again, Zarin had good chances of killing Sidrona. And then he’d kill Reno. And Xanthis would lose everything, including his life when Zarin realized he’d been betrayed or when he realized that Xanthis had been so weak as to yield to Sidrona and reveal Rhen Var’s location. But this was the only way Xanthis could stay alive in the here and now. He had to live on in the hope he could fulfill that which he longed to do. And there was another way.

     “I will tell you,” Xanthis said. “But you will have to do this my way. If Zarin knows you’re coming, you’ll be dead. You will take my ship. Next, you will promise me that you will show me the mercy that I showed you so many years ago. Promise me that you’ll live up to your part of the bargain. The bargain you offered.”

     “I promise,” Sidrona said, and the blade’s heat seem to lessen every so slightly.

     “My ship is in a cave up this tunnel,” Xanthis said, indicating the opening. “Take the first right, and then the second left. The coordinates are in the navicomputer.”

     “The name?”

     “Rhen Var.”

     There was a pause.

     “Rhen Var?” Sidrona repeated in a contemplative tone. “Where is that?”

     “It’s. . .just spinward of the Perlemian Trade Route between the Meridian Sector and the Tion Cluster.”

     “Sounds like a prominent place,” Sidrona said, skeptical.

     “No,” Xanthis said. “It’s an icy rock. Nobody wants anything to do with it. Hence one of the reasons my master used it in the first place.”

     “What are the other reasons?”

     Xanthis waited, not sure if his revealing this would mean anything. “It holds a special meaning to both Zarin and Reno. They trained together there, many years ago.”

     There was an even longer pause. Those few moments were so silent, even with the hum of the lightsaber in his face, that Xanthis was sure he could hear noises from the base above.

     “Get out of here,” Sidrona said. “If you want to live, then get out of here. Fast.”

     Sidrona withdrew, the heat from his blade dissipating.

     “Sidrona!”

     The ruffling of rocks could be heard as Sidrona skidded to a halt. Xanthis rose to his feet, facing him.

     “I told you. . .you can’t kill me.”

     Sidrona ran off.

Accumulation

     Xanthis sat in his chair, his hands resting on the arms. He sat reflecting on the past, contemplating the future, wrestling with his conscience. He thought about what the past had done to shape that conscience. He thought about what effect that conscience—or lack thereof—would have on the future. He’d tried to make it to Rhen Var on time to head off Sidrona, but from the beginning his effort was futile. It had taken an hour to slink and fight his way past Sith Squadron’s forces to the escape shuttle on the other side of the base. Aside from that, the shuttle was nowhere near the speed of his personal ship that Sidrona had taken. When he arrived on Rhen Var, he’d found his master’s slain body on top of a mountain under a layer of snow, a lightsaber wound in his back. A stab in the back was becoming the Sidrona trademark.

     That had enraged Xanthis to be sure, but something else had sent him over the edge. Reno’s body was nowhere to be found. This brought forth many possibilities of what could have happened. But the one that shone like a hundred supernovae was that he’d been duped. Sidrona hadn’t planned on killing Reno. He’d only wanted to save his master, and get away clean. Perhaps they’d come to terms over the years. As prominent as that possibility was, though, Xanthis found it unlikely. Reno had wronged Sidrona as he had Xanthis, and the man from Tatooine hated Reno for it. He could have taken him from the planet to kill him elsewhere, but that made little sense. It was more likely that Sidrona had simply wussed out. Why, Xanthis didn’t know.

     It didn’t take long for Xanthis's fury to turn into joy. He realized that he now had the chance to kill them both. They would die. At his hands. But a terrible price had been paid to bring to him this renewed opportunity. Zarin was dead. In a way, he had died at Xanthis’s hands. Xanthis had provided Sidrona with a way to get within striking distance of his master. He told himself he had no choice, that Sidrona would have killed him and found his ship with the coordinates. By living, he at least had a chance to chase Sidrona to Rhen Var and prevent a tragedy. But was that the reason? Or was it because he found Sidrona’s offer to be sound, giving him a chance to kill one of his greatest enemies and guaranteeing the death of the other—all at the cost of Zarin’s life. In practicality, it had all turned out even better than expected. Sidrona and Reno were alive now, as was Xanthis. He could have been dead, and his chances for revenge dead with him. It all boiled down to what was more important to Xanthis: Zarin’s life or his revenge on Reno and Sidrona.

     Zarin had come to Xanthis and taken him under his wing, picking up the pieces of his life, teaching him, training him. He’d all but given Xanthis total control of the Terrors of Space as he’d ruled from the shadows, elusive and enigmatic. Likewise, Xanthis had been the son that Zarin had never had. Xanthis had been his sole apprentice, unlike the time he’d been under Reno’s tutelage, training with Sidrona side by side. But things change, which was a fact that hadn't been lost on Xanthis during his tragic life.

     Zarin had saved Xanthis, yes, but he’d also taken his chance to kill Reno away from him. He’d even taken away his chance to kill Sidrona. It was on the Terror of Space when they’d had Sidrona on board as a prisoner, and he’d escaped. They’d later found the Tatooinian Sith apprentice, or rather, he’d found them. Zarin had opted to leave Sidrona alive. At the time, it had seemed an unwise decision, as Sidrona had escaped. Just a few weeks ago it had still seemed a bad decision, as Sidrona had led Sith Squadron in all but destroying TOS and killing Zarin. Now, it seemed to have worked out well for Xanthis. It had been a bad decision to leave Sidrona alive that day. . .for Zarin. But in the long run, for Xanthis, it had been a good decision. No, Zarin’s death hadn’t been Xanthis’s fault. Rather, Zarin had signed his own death warrant the day he had let Sidrona live. In that, Xanthis found comfort. He was not responsible for Zarin’s death. But he’d avenge his death, for sure, as it further fueled his hate for Reno and Sidrona tenfold.

     That being said, killing them was easier said than done. As much as he hated them, they were not stupid or weak, as Sidrona had proven once again in that cave on Zhar Delba. However, Reno couldn’t be in good condition, what with the things Zarin had probably done to him on Rhen Var.  It would take a plan, a strategy. And the time to act was now.

     The first part of that plan was making its way to his lair. He looked at the small screen on the left side of his chair. An Incom A-24 Sleuth, a small scout ship that carried only two people and an astromech droid in an exterior socket. They were approaching his temporary base of operations on an airless world in the Elrood Sector. The planet orbited a star in a large gaseous portion of the sector known as The Drift. While navigation through the area was complicated, it had over the years developed an almost mythical reputation as a death trap to all those who entered. So here Xanthis knew he would be unmolested by all belligerent forces, be they Imperial, New Republic, criminal or Sith Squadron.

     The Sleuth made its way into the improvised docking bay in the side of the rocky spire. Moments later, he heard footsteps entering. He slowly turned in his chair to face the entrants. Xanthis literally raised the corners of his mouth ever so slightly at the double meaning.

     Both the male and the female knelt on one knee before him.

     “Stand,” Xanthis said irritably.

     The man spoke. “Lord Xanthis, I’ve come before you as ordered.”

     “Step forward,” Xanthis commanded.

     The man complied.

     “State your name and position.”

     “My lord, I am Sim Zomna, Lieutenant, assigned to surveillance duty on Celanon,” the man said, doing well at keeping his voice even and bereft of fear.

     “Who assigned you to this duty?”

     “General Kovares,” Zomna said, his tone unsure.

     “Did you perform it well?”

     The man didn’t answer immediately, obviously confused by the question. Xanthis enjoyed confusing his underlings and catching them off guard. He’d done so with deceased Generals Veego and Kovares, and he would with his next general. It was now something of a tradition.

     “With all modesty, I think I did, Lord Xanthis,” Zomna said.

     “You organized your men’s sleeping patterns to assure that at least two were always awake to watch the house, didn’t you?” Xanthis said, as if impressed.

     “Yes.”

     “You made sure not to draw any attention from the local authorities to your group, correct?”

     “Yes.”

     Zomna’s voice was sounding more confident.

     “You smuggled in your battle droids and the control transmitter without incident?”

     “Yes.”

     “All of your men followed your orders without question, didn’t they?”

     “Yes, my lord.”

     “Impressive, lieutenant,” Xanthis said. “Quite an impressive feat indeed for someone who is so. . .insubordinate.”

     The forming smile on Zomna’s face faded. “My lord?”

     “Who told you to abandon your duty and neutralize Drolen Antig?” Xanthis asked, leaning forward in his chair from the shadows, revealing his face to Zomna.

     “My lord, I think it was Lieutenant. . .I don’t recall his name. . .”

     Xanthis raised a hand and leaned back in his chair. “That’s quite all right. You’ve said enough. He was a lieutenant. Who he was is of no consequence. So, who was it that sent you a memo telling you that the chain of command had changed?”

     “Nobody, my lord,” Zomna said, his voice dropping.

     “Then why did you take orders from somebody of equal rank?”

     “My lord—“

     “What made you think a lieutenant’s orders would supercede those of a general?!” Xanthis demanded.

     “It was the logical thing to do, Lord Xanthis!” Zomna responded in a pleading tone. “I was told that Drolen Antig knew information that couldn’t be allowed to fall into enemy hands! And that the enemy was on the way! I had to get to Antig before they did!”

     “You did well,” Xanthis said.

     The tension could almost be felt rushing from the room as relief swept in.

     “Thank you, my lord,” Zomna said, confused again.

     “Yes, you see, you helped me make a decision. We need people with a certain amount of initiative. Somebody who will risk their own standing for the good of the organization. Not just another mindless battle droid.” Xanthis leaned forward again in his chair, as if sharing a secret. “Someone who would be perfect for the role of general. I think I’ve found that person.”

     “Ah yes, my lord,” Zomna said, his chin raised proudly.

     “Yes,” Xanthis said, smiling. “That person is in this very room. . .standing behind you.”

     Zomna had only half of a second for his grin to turn into a frown before his brain exploded from the right side of his head and he fell to the ground. The woman standing behind Zomna’s body lowered the blaster and spun it on her left index finger. She stepped over the corpse and smiled cheerfully.

     “That went well,” she said.

     “It did indeed,” Xanthis said. “But let this be one of your first lessons, General Lorstai. Never disobey an order. For you, that will be easy, as I am the only person above you in the pecking order. By the same token, never allow anyone under you to disobey an order. That leads to ruin. Zomna here disobeyed, and that in turn allowed Sith Squadron to locate our base. What’s worse is that the order he superceded came from a traitor to our cause, your predecessor Andell Kovares. Obedience is necessary for success. I’m above you, meaning I know more than you. Suggestions are welcome, but the final decision on anything is mine only to make. Disobey me, and we shall taste defeat. That is the order of things.”

     “I understand, Lord Xanthis,” she said in an animated tone. “But I was thinking. . .since I am the first female general in the group, why not change my title to ‘Generalette?’ Or perhaps ‘Lady General.’  No, not that, since ‘Lady’ would suggest that I’m on your level, and believe me, I don’t want to suggest that. But—“

     “Enough,” Xanthis said calmly. “’General’ is fine.”

     “Of course, Lord Xanthis,” she said. “I meant no offense.”

     “Now, when will the order be complete?”

     General Lorstai cleared her throat. “The first ten thousand rifles will be ready to ship within forty-eight standard hours. The explosives are bit more complicated. I’m told we can expect them by the end of the week.”

     “Such a precise figure on the rifles,” Xanthis said. “I am a stickler about timeliness. If you say forty-eight hours, then I expect them in forty-eight hours. If not, there will be consequences. Not just in this instance, but every time you give me a timetable. Is that understood?”

     “Yes, it is, my lord,” Lorstai said with a feral grin.

     Xanthis sat back and shook his head. Lorstai liked getting Force-choked. It was one of the quirky facets to her insane psyche. For some unknown reason, she had snapped some years ago. But she was intelligent and most importantly resourceful. She owned a small arms company based in the Sluis Sector. Lorstai Ordnance sold to planetary military forces, mercenary units, and was rumored to have sold to the Rebel Alliance during the war. The company had only one manufacturing facility, which was located in the Sluis Van system, so their finished product output was less than five percent of what BlasTech or Merr-Sonn did, but that was still more than enough to meet Xanthis’s needs. Another added bonus was that Lorstai and Xanthis now shared a common enemy.

     In the weeks after Zhar Delba, Xanthis had learned that the faction who had assisted Sidrona on Reuss VIII was from Vosse Technologies. VosseTech, as it was known, was a small but larger company than Lorstai that mainly produced weapons and military gear, including their own design of starfighter. For years Lorstai Ordnance had competed with Vosse over the contracts from several planetary governments. Vosse had always won out what with their ability not only to provide arms, but also the inexpensive Edge starfighter. General Lorstai had told Xanthis that while the Edge was a decent fighter, VosseTech had only designed the spaceframe, while most of the parts were ordered from more prominent shipbuilders. Whatever way the snub was designed and assembled didn’t matter, Xanthis had told her. Rather, what did matter was that it was the key factor in her losses to VosseTech. He had guaranteed her that he would put her company over VosseTech if she would provide him arms and intelligence. As a marketer of products that sold as far as the Tion Hegemony, she had a vast number of contacts on planets across the Rim. And, as demented as she was, she was still smart, with a keen tactical mind. Aside from her annoying outbursts, she was everything Xanthis needed in a General. An added bonus was that she wasn’t exactly painful to look at. But all of that was a collective added bonus, as something else had brought her to his attention in the first place. . .

     “Now, what of the first stage of our plan?”

     “Well, Lord Xanthis, it has become obvious to me that we need to take an entirely different route than that of your defunct organization known as TOS,” General Lorstai said, raising her eyebrows and widening her almond-shaped eyes. “With all due respect.”

     “Yes, General, we’ve agreed upon that,” Xanthis said, waving a hand in the air. “No more droids. The damned things didn’t work fifty years ago and they won’t work now.”

     Lorstai giggled. “Lord Xanthis, you are correct in your assessment, and yes, we did agree upon that issue, but I’m referring to the entire goal of the group.” She spread her arms wide to illustrate her point. “You see, we’re not going to be able to convince anyone to sign on with us if we tell them our goal is to take over the galaxy to rule with an iron fist. We must trick them into joining us by presenting some kind of movement. A cause!”

     “Interesting,” Xanthis said. “Go on.”

     “I took it upon myself to write up a manifesto,” Lorstai said, moving forward and laying a datacard on the armrest of his chair. “Nothing fancy, just something to start with.”

     Xanthis popped the datacard into a reader and scanned the datapages on his screen. “Again, interesting.”

     “As people of galactic society who believe in liberty,” she began in an passionate voice as if standing on a soapbox, “we will fight for the individual rights of all beings! That is the primary objective of the Agents of Liberty! All galactic government is tyrannical! They tax us, they draft us, they use us as a means to further tighten their grip on the weak! But we will show them that we are no longer weak!”

     “You have quite the imagination, General,” Xanthis said.

     Lorstai bowed, her dyed blonde hair falling over her shoulders. “Thank you, my lord.”

     “And do you have a plan to implement this?”

     She nodded. “I do.”

     “Good,” Xanthis said. “But before you give the final go ahead, run it by me. It’s not that I don’t trust your judgment, but it’s always better just to be sure.”

     “Yes it is, my lord,” Lorstai agreed. “And now, if I may be excused?”

     “So soon?”

     “Well, I haven’t yet eaten, and Zomna’s brains here are starting to appeal to my nostrils,” Lorstai explained. “Better to go now and eat something more edible before my hunger gets the better of me.”

     Xanthis nodded. “Go. But have somebody come clean this mess up.”

     “Yes, my lord,” Lorstai said, curtseying.

     When she left the room, Xanthis shook his head. The woman was downright nuts.  Out of her mind. But she was a means to an end.  Her state of mind was intolerable.  But for now, he’d use her resources and abilities to take the next step in achieving his goals. An added plus was that her insanity made her so much easier to manipulate. She actually thought he wanted to subvert the giants of galactic power -- the Empire and New Republic -- in order to rule the galaxy with autonomy. While he wouldn’t mind such a thing, it was secondary to achieving the goal which was his top priority: killing the men known as Baron Reno and Jace Sidrona. Deal with them, and then such trivial matters as taking over the galaxy could come into play. But not one second before.

     Xanthis turned back around in his chair as the cleaner entered the room.