Sidious was having an extremely stressful day. And it all began with a message from Dooku, who had conducted reconnaissance on Korriban using his apprentice. She discovered that the spirits there had suddenly become unusually active. Even worse, several ancient Sith spirits had manifested specifically to deliver a message—through Ventress—to their "master":
something ancient and dark had returned, and soon he, Sidious, unworthy in their eyes, would meet his end.
And, of course, the Sith from the past was nowhere to be found.
Naturally, Sheev's first thought was Darth Plagueis, his former master. But after a few minutes of rational consideration, he dismissed the idea. Their relationship had been… unhealthy, to put it mildly, but Sidious would have sensed his master's return instantly.
But when the prophets of Dromund Kaas contacted him and repeated the same prophecy almost word for word, that was when he realized he needed to prepare—seriously. This wasn't the rambling of a few ancient Sith driven mad by centuries steeped in the Dark Side. This was an entire organization under his command, one that had never been so drastically wrong before.
Unfortunately, even a mind as brilliant as Palpatine's couldn't draw precise conclusions without complete information. For a moment, he even felt like the Jedi Council—who, from the very beginning of their conflict, had been "wandering in the Dark."
Still, if there was one thing he excelled at, it was improvisation. Adjusting his plans on the fly brought him a certain pleasure, and he accepted this new challenge with a hint of satisfaction. But changing the core of his grand design too drastically was dangerous. One misaligned detail could ruin everything and cost him countless opportunities.
Which meant it was time to pressure the Senate in the most radical way possible—
sabotage, or better yet, an outright invasion of Coruscant, to secure the maximum possible emergency powers.
And while he was at it, he'd throw the Jedi some new "information" as well.
Let their heads ache too…
XXXXXXXX
After a full day of meditation…
Well, more like the restless, twitchy Sith equivalent of meditation that suited my nature—I finally forced myself to deal with the holocron.
All this time, the Aurora hummed steadily as it cut through hyperspace. We were headed toward some unremarkable little planet that didn't appear on any standard Imperial or Republic charts. Our informants—sneaky bastards, the lot of them—had discovered a mining complex there that once extracted some rare metal. I never cared much for metallurgy; I've always been more of a "feelings and poetry" type. Mechanics? Engineering? No thanks.
There was only one problem: the complex was destroyed, and there was a decent chance someone intelligent had done it. That's why they asked me to scout it out. The trip would take about three days, which gave me just enough time to study the relic from Yavin IV… and maybe activate it.
Of course, for safety's sake, it would've been smarter to do this on the planet, not on the ship. But I had no idea what kind of knowledge was inside. What if I passed out while "absorbing" it and got eaten by some local lizard‑sheep hybrid?
Wait—wrong universe. Or is it? I don't remember if they exist here.
Either way, no matter how much I stalled, the "moment of truth" eventually arrived. I'd even timed it so I'd have a few hours to recover before we reached our destination. So I locked myself in my cabin, took a deep breath, grabbed the holocron—and didn't even have time to interact with it before the Dark Side sealed inside resonated with my mind.
In a single instant, a whole layer of memories I'd never known opened up—like someone had knocked down a wall in a library and revealed a hidden room full of books. I was so startled I dropped the holocron.
They were the memories of Darth Imperius.
That was his title.
And now, apparently, mine.
That didn't match anything I remembered from my old world—I never got that far in the game. But it seemed my "character" hadn't stayed idle after I disappeared from reality. I still didn't know if I'd died or if the Force had simply stolen my soul somehow. And my soul must have drifted here for Force‑knows‑how long. Then there was the "implantation" into this body…
Taales had known a technique for absorbing Force spirits. The previous owner of this body had been a master of it—turning his mind into a prison for ancient Sith, draining their power or bargaining with them for it. That ability probably played a role in all this, but it was still just a theory. And the holocron itself wasn't shaped like a typical Sith one—clearly part of some clever disguise.
Sighing, I picked it up again and pressed my hand to the cold metal, channeling the Force into it.
The air in the cabin instantly grew heavy. The lights flickered and dimmed, bathing everything in a dead, bluish glow. A haze swirled above the holocron, and a second later Exar Kun appeared before me. But this time he didn't look like a half‑mad hermit driven insane by centuries of isolation. He stood with his hands clasped behind his back, clad in his strange armor, surveying my cabin as if he'd walked into a cheap diner.
"Quite… austere," his voice echoed directly inside my skull, sending a sharp spike of pain through it. "You hide in this metal box when you could already be sitting on a throne."
"If you sit on a throne long enough, people start bringing you psyker children as sacrifices," I snapped, wiping the blood that had begun trickling from my nose under the pressure he was exerting.
"Let's get to the point. Or did you let me take this holocron just so you could critique interior design trends after your centuries of imprisonment?"
The ghost only smirked. There was so much superiority in that expression I wanted to throw something heavy at him.
"You're still afraid. I feel your fear for those on this ship. The Rodian boy… what's his name? Grana? Amusing little creature. And that captain, the old azumel, Gertis Tios. You dragged him out of a hole even the Force forgot existed. Oh, and you have an entire sect now? Not bad. You brainwashed them quite elegantly. But still… you're attached to them. And attachment is a chain around your neck. Someone will grab both ends eventually."
Suddenly Kun stepped forward. His projection grew larger, pressing down on me with sheer presence.
"Do you want to see their end? Do you want to see me rip the life from that boy right now? Your barriers protect YOU, but not them. I could slip through the hull and leave two empty corpses on the bridge. What will you do then, 'light‑sided' Sith?"
Rage surged through me. The Dark Side answered instantly, flooding my veins with molten fire.
"Try it," I snarled, leaping to my feet and igniting my lightsaber. The orange‑black blade hissed through the air, passing harmlessly through the ghost.
"I'll find a way to scatter you to the winds, relic."
Exar Kun froze. His eyes flared with yellow fire as he assessed my resolve. The silence in the cabin became almost physical.
Then… he laughed. Loudly. Genuinely. Throwing his head back.
"Oh," he said, shrinking back to normal size and relaxing. "Now that's better. Hatred. Resolve. You do have a spine after all. But let's put the threats aside. They're so… vulgar. We both know I don't want to kill them. Not yet. They're useful to me. As are you."
He drifted around the cabin—his feet not touching the floor, yet his movements disturbingly natural.
"Look at yourself. When you channeled the Force into the holocron, I saw your story—though not all of it, for some reason. You're running. Running from modern Sith, from the Jedi, from your past. Trying to build some 'just world' in the middle of a galaxy‑wide war. But one mistake… and those you care about will die screaming."
"And you're offering salvation, I suppose?" I crossed my arms, trying to hide the tremor in my knees.
"Oh no. Something far more practical. Knowledge, my friend." Kun stopped by the viewport, watching the streaking stars of hyperspace. "I don't know who trained you, but right now you're blind—using the Force like a barbarian swinging a sword instead of putting technique into your strikes. This holocron contains fragments of what I gathered over centuries. But I won't give them to you for free. You must prove yourself worthy."
"And how do I do that? Go slaughter a Tusken village?" I sneered.
Kun turned smoothly. His expression became serious—almost sympathetic.
"Why would I need your cheap murders?" he said softly. "Listen to me, Taales. You want to protect that Rodian boy, don't you? You want Gertis to live out his days as a captain, not a slave in the mines. And that mountain of muscle… what's his name? Kem, yes. You want him to keep following you like a loyal hound. You want to be STRONG, so no one can dictate terms to you. Not the Jedi Council. Not the Sith currently playing his little game in the galaxy."
I stayed silent—because he was right.
"You're flying toward some pathetic scrap of a factory," Kun waved dismissively. "A waste of time. Nothing there but rust and death. But…" He paused, eyes narrowing slyly. "In the depths of the Unknown Regions, there is a place. A planet not on any modern map. Only my followers and those who helped build my temples knew of it."
I tensed. The Unknown Regions were a one‑way ticket.
"And what's there? Another trap for idiots?"
"My personal vault," Kun said, voice turning smooth and hypnotic. "An ancient base protected not only by technology, but by the Force itself. It holds crystals that can strengthen your blade, and archives that will help you… let's say, unlock the 'shutters' in your mind that prevent you from using the full power of this body. Imagine it, my friend. A hidden base. A place where no one will ever find you. Where your crew will be completely safe."
"Sounds too good to be true," I narrowed my eyes. "And what do YOU get out of it? You're not exactly the 'Young Sith Assistance Foundation.'"
"Me?" Kun smirked. "Simple. I need a new body. But I realized I can't take yours by force. Your defenses are too strong. So I offer a deal. You take me there, activate certain mechanisms that will restore part of my connection to reality—not resurrection, no, just stability. In return, you get everything there. Resources. Knowledge. Shelter. I'll be your advisor. Your unseen teacher. Together we'll build your empire. Whatever kind you want. Just? Fine. Without slaves? If you insist. I don't care what slogans you feed the masses as long as I have access to the Force."
He fell silent, letting me think. His logic was terrifyingly seductive. He wasn't commanding me like Vitiate had in Taales's memories. He wasn't crushing me with power. He was offering partnership—playing on my best intentions. "Cunning fox" didn't even begin to describe him. He was offering exactly what I needed most: safety for my people and a chance to grow strong enough to stop being anyone's pawn.
"Coordinates," I said curtly.
Kun smiled with satisfaction. "They're already in your subconscious. I placed them there the moment you touched the holocron. But be careful… 'Inquisitor.' The journey is long, and the shadows of the past don't like being disturbed."
His projection began to fade.
"And one more thing, Taales… Don't tell Kem Val. Dasheyds are loyal, but far too straightforward for such delicate games. Let him think we're still following your employers' orders."
The holocron snapped shut. The lights brightened, and I was alone, breathing heavily.
My head buzzed. It felt like a compass needle had suddenly swung toward the void between star systems. I sat on the bed, clutching my head. Kun had outplayed me so thoroughly that I'd agreed to his terms willingly—without him using the Force at all.
The comlink beeped.
"Boss, it's Gertis," the captain rasped. "We're approaching the exit point. Should we start scanning the industrial complex?"
I looked at the safe where I'd just placed the holocron. I saw Grana laughing in the gym, and old Gertis calmly drinking coffee on the bridge.
Could I risk them?
"No, Gertis," I said, standing. My voice was steady, though everything inside me trembled. "Plans have changed. I'm sending you new coordinates."
"But boss…" confusion crept into his voice. "That's empty space. There's nothing on the charts in that sector. No habitable systems. We won't have enough fuel if we get stuck."
"We'll have enough, captain. Trust me. There's something there we need. And Gertis…" I paused. "Prepare the ship for a long jump. And tell Grana to check all food supplies. We're heading into the Unknown Regions."
"Understood, boss…" he said, clearly baffled but not arguing.
I walked to the mirror and frowned at my reflection. Deep in my eyes, faint yellow glimmers flickered—a bad sign.
I knew I was making a mistake by striking a deal with Exar Kun. I knew he'd betray me the moment he got what he wanted. But right now… I had no choice. If that secret base was real, it could give me a chance to slip out from under Sidious's shadow—and the Jedi's.
And Kun?
I'd deal with him later.
I'd subjugate him the same way Taales had done with other Force spirits. I just didn't yet know how.
As I walked toward the bridge, I felt the faint presence of the ancient Sith lingering at the edge of my mind. He said nothing, but I could sense his satisfaction.
He thought I was his prey.
But unfortunately for him, the ancient Sith didn't know one surprisingly wise truth—spoken, if I recall correctly, by the now‑dead Qui‑Gon:
"There's always a bigger fish."