Chapter 60

Eastern Veil, Llon Nebula

Itopol Sector

“It is not our intention to kill you here, Ventress.”

Naradan D’ulin crossed her arms, as if she were not at all engaged in a tense, three-way standoff between an unstable Sith assassin and a famed Jedi Knight. One might think, wrongly, that being ordinary mercenaries meant the Mistryl Shadow Guard were at a disadvantage, but that would be a mistake. The Mistryl were well-prepared for such an exchange–for any exchange, really–and Anakin himself would be remiss to underestimate them. There was a reason Emberlene built an army out of them, and a reason somebody as canny as the Hydra hired them.

He noticed the curved handle of a concealed sword at Naradan’s waist, and the bejewelled ends of multiple hair pins neatly sheathed into thick black hair, and Anakin Skywalker knew there wouldn’t be a fight without some nasty losses. Those swords could be phrik, or cortosis-weave, and those hairpins could be zenji needles. Anakin was more worried about the zenji needles; they were poisoned, for one, and the Mistryl were known for cracking and piercing armour just by throwing them hard enough.

“I am unsure why you would be after me, then,” Ventress’ voice was hoarse, and paranoid.

Her presence in the Force was… unstable, maddened, even panicking. Ventress is riding high on adrenaline, Anakin realised that. That… didn’t happen with Ventress, in his not-so friendly experience with the Sith Acolyte. Even during their torrential duel on Yavin-IV, it was Anakin who was aggravated and wild, while Ventress remained as silent and cool as a sliding blade. This loss of control… could only mean something drastic had happened to her.

“The Admiral has already given you a way out,” Naradan continued, her Mistryl fanning out behind her, “You’ve had enough time to realise this.”

Similarly, Commander Appo seized the opportunity to secure the bridge compartment, a flash of hand signals ordering the 501st troopers to tactically mirror the Mistryl on the opposite side of the room. Anakin eyed the dimensions of the compartment, and the sizes of its openings–namely the two bulkheads on forward and aft. If a firefight were to break out, there was a good chance nobody was getting out…

Anakin took on a stance Dooku was likely to take; a simple Form II stance with a one-handed grip with the other hand clenched behind his back. He could feel both Ventress and the Mistryl analysing him closely, wondering why he was adopting a duelist’s form in the worst situation possible. Staring them down, he made a series of hand signals with his hidden hand, ordering Appo to send two squads of troopers down the port and starboard corridors to outflank the Mistryl.

He could not hear the clones’ internal comm circuits, or even if Appo noticed the order. But when Anakin’s Force-enhanced hearing picked the muffled clamour of moving boots elsewhere on the ship, he knew the Clone Commander did.

Anakin made a second signal: expect combat.

Two Mistryl destroyers had split off to target this ship, Storm-001, but there was only one Mistryl team in front of them. Anakin would bet his mechno-arm there was a second Mistryl team crawling aboard this ship at this moment.

“I don’t understand half the things he does,” Ventress snarled, “All I know is that he expected this.”

“Where is your starfighter, Ventress?” Naradan’s eyes hardened.

“Drifting in the black,” Ventress bit.

Irritance flashed across the Mistryl’s beautiful features–there was something on that starfighter she wanted–as she finally settled into a fighting stance, drawing out a handful of zenji needles from her hair, nesting them between her fingers.

“In that case, your testimony is necessary,” Naradan declared, “We will be taking you in. Do us a favour and don’t resist.”

At that moment, Anakin stepped it, brandishing his lightsaber; “I dislike being ignored, ladies. I’m afraid it’s the end of the line for you Ventress. I’d like to just kill you here, but it seems I must give you the opportunity to come to Coruscant for trial. Your miserable existence might last a bit longer that way, behind bars.”

“You aren’t getting out of here,” Naradan raised a fist, and the Mistryl unsheathed their weapons–gleaming black swords, shock whips, zenji needles and holdout blasters, “Listen to me, Ventress. It’s either the Republic, or the Confederacy.”

“The Confederacy betrayed me,” Ventress snarled, her twin, curved lightsabers growling with burning energy, “The Republic seeks my death. I will not die here. There is something I must do.”

“And what is that?” Naradan raised an eyebrow, “Put a blade between Count Dooku’s eyes? Not in your state.”

“Count Dooku?” for a brief moment, Anakin was taken aback, “Count Dooku betrayed you?”

Was that why the Storm Fleet suddenly fired upon itself? To kill her? Firstly, why would Dooku suddenly seek the death of his most prized apprentice? And second, how did Ventress survive?

Then, Anakin laughed.

“Count Dooku betrayed you,” he said again, just to confirm the absurdly believable fact with his own two ears, “Count Dooku led you to some secret super fleet, then ordered to kill you. That’s… so Sith.”

If his intentions were to goad Ventress on, he succeeded with flying colours. The irritance Naradan wore changed targets–from Ventress to him–but instead of leaping at him like the cornered animal she was, Ventress took them all by surprise. By taking a deep breath and lowering herself into a more compact fighting stance, pulling her lightsabers closer to herself and adopting a clearly Form III stance. With her twin lightsabers, Anakin could visualise the defensive bubble she created around herself.

“Honestly,” Anakin said, exasperated, “Why are you still holding out? This destroyer doesn’t have a hangar, and without your starship, you’re trapped…”

He trailed off, finding a certain calculating glint in Ventress’s pale eyes that forced him to re-evaluate the situation. That wasn’t the look of a cornered animal, but one of a starved beast planning out its next hunt. A cornered animal and starved beast may appear similar, but were very different battles to tackle altogether.

The 501st troopers must have noticed their General’s newfound wariness, because they levelled their blasters and carbines. The tension in the compartment heightened, until Anakin could almost grab it with the Force.

“What… what does the Admiral want?” Ventress gripped her lightsabers in reverse, slowly pivoting as she analysed the two forces blocking the exits.

The pieces started to click into Anakin’s mind. Her defensive posture, her lack of aggressiveness… Ventress is stalling, he realised. She’s protecting something. But what? Something behind her? That would explain the reverse grip. So… the data console? Should I allow her to stall? Anakin had no choice but to wait for his troopers to flank around the bridge, however, as there was no way to decisively win the upcoming firefight without them.

“He needs the Storm Fleet,” Naradan answered easily.

Anakin narrowed his eyes, “I thought you needed her starfighter?”

“I need proof of Dooku’s betrayal,” Naradan snapped, “It doesn’t matter if it’s her starfighter, Ventress, or this star-damned fleet! I need something that can be presented before the Separatist Senate, something that can put Dooku’s credibility in its grave.”

“…Bonteri’s part of the Anti-Dooku Faction,” Anakin suddenly stated, “I have… heard of that.”

“Do you realise that we are not the Jedi Order’s enemy, then?” the Mistryl appealed, “The common mission of the Jedi Order and the Perlemian Coalition is to dethrone Dooku and bring him to justice.”

Anakin’s lightsaber was heavy, but his mechno-arm couldn’t feel its weight, “Answer me this, mercenary; was it on Dooku’s orders that Eriadu was decimated?”

Naradan D’ulin stilled, and Anakin knew then that Dooku had nothing to do with Eriadu.

“You may be speaking to me,” the Jedi Knight switched back to Form V, “But all I hear are the Hydra’s sweet words, and the slither of their forked tongue. I don’t know what the Jedi Order is fighting for, but I know the Republic is fighting for the end of the Separatist State. And as far as I’m concerned, that’s what I’m fighting for too.”

“Eriadu was the act of a single madman who lost everything to the Republic,” Naradan gritted her teeth, “And lost everything in the single-minded pursuit of bloody vengeance. As we speak, both Dooku and the Pantoran are being summoned to Raxus Secundus for a formal hearing.”

“But not the perpetrator, General Ambigene himself?”

“…The Pantoran is protecting him with her influence,” the Mistryl hissed, as if that pained her physically, “He is considered too important to pull off the front now.”

“Then I know where the Separatist State’s priorities lie.”

“Do not act like the Republic is all that different, Jedi.”

Anakin released a guttural growl, “I put Pong Krell in chains myself!”

As the last word left his mouth, a thunderclap shook Storm-001, filling the bridge with sounds of boots stomping against the panels as men and women restabilised themselves. The holoscreens flashed and fizzled, red light and blue pouring in through the observation bubble overhead. Then the room dimmed, a great shadow passing overhead–the belly of a Venator, flying so closely Anakin could count the gunships in its ventral hangar bay.

Then, Ventress’ poise changed again, back into a more aggressive style more befitting of the dual-bladed form of Jar’Kai.

“Ventress,” Naradan clearly realised this change, “Do not make this difficult. It was not the Confederacy who betrayed you–it was Count Dooku. We have the same enemy.”

Ventress’ eyes flashed towards the console and back, “It will be I who kills Count Dooku.”

“As you wish.”

Anakin was hardly registering the conversation, so fixated on deciphering Ventress’ intentions, that seemed to change with every passing moment. He circled back to the original question; how did Ventress survive the initial betrayal? He recalled how the Storm Fleet destroyers had abruptly stopped shooting upon each other and formed its battle lines. One could assume it was because they decided Asajj Ventress was suitably dead, but a single bioscan could have disproven that.

The only other reason a fleet of slave-circuited ships would so sharply about-face would be… because they received conflicting orders.

Ventress was stalling. Why?

Now he knew the answer. The final piece of the puzzle clicked into place in his mind’s eye. The Storm Fleet was shooting upon each other because Ventress had weaselled her way into one of the ships, and using the control codes she somehow intercepted from Dooku, commandeered the fleet to turn against the combined forces of the Mistryl and the Open Circle. That’s when Anakin and Naradan found her on the bridge.

And now she was stalling, because she was trying to extract the flagship privileges and control code rotors out of the Storm-001, so she could command the Storm Fleet from anywhere she was.

Another blast rocked the ship.

Appo broke the uneasy silence, “General, our squads have engaged the Mistryl in the operations compartment.”

A beat passed.

“Open fire!”

The 501st broke the deadlock with lasers blazing, laying down a heavy cover fire as they slowly retreated through the bulkhead behind them. The Mistryl responded in kind; first an incisive volley of zenji needles that zipped through the air that Anakin himself could barely track, even with his enhanced senses, much alone block and vaporise them with his lightsaber.

The forward rank of clone troopers dropped dead the moment the first wavefront of needles struck, filling the air with screams and splintering plastoid armour. And suddenly, the pitch of a different class of weapons joined the cacophony as the Mistryl opened up on the 501st, drawing out their holdout blasters and energy-absorbant phrik vibroblades.

“Get to the Sharihen!” Anakin could hear Naradan shout, “Ventress!”

Ventress was a whirlwind of red light, an oblate sphere of fire that blocked any and all projectiles that came her way, or the console’s way, for that matter. She ignored the Mistryl’s calls, much to Naradan’s chagrin. Anakin knew then, that the command privileges were still being downloaded.

“Appo!” he grunted, “Don’t let them reach their ship! Leave Ventress to me.”

Appo released a shout of confirmation, corralling the last of his men through the bulkhead. For a few seconds the two groups of weapons continued to vie with each other. Then, with a screech of strained metal, the sounds were cut off. It was only he and Ventress left on the bridge.

But the fight continued. Anakin could not see it, but he could feel it in the Force. Spreading throughout the ship like a rampant wildfire, laserfire tearing through bulkheads and panelling like a necrotising disease.

Sith and Jedi levelled their sabers at each other.

Ventress struck first, any and all semblance of defensiveness gone as she leapt over the consoles and crashed down on him with lethal grace. She swept down with such swiftness Anakin barely had time to register the attack, his body mechanically moving on its own to step back and parry her strike. Ventress pushed down him, and as his mechno-arms inhuman strength pushed back, the Sith assassin adroitly sprung over his head and onto the wall behind him.

Deftly bouncing off it, Ventress launched herself at him and Anakin turned, again nearly moving too slowly to prevent her from slicing him in half. Their blades clashed and sizzled, and she moved forward, her face mere centimetres from his. It was at this point Anakin would have expected some sort of cruel smile or mocking wit, but found himself surprised to see her full lips drawn into a determined line, her eyes set ablaze with an obsessive desire to live.

“Let… me… go!” she yelled, executing a backward flip and landing in a crouch atop the console.

“I can’t do that,” Anakin growled, “I came here to do one thing; and that’s to put an end to you!”

The hum of his lightsaber was the only warning Ventress got before he was upon her in a forceful downward blow. Ventress’ pale face was contorted in a snarl, and unable to match him in physical might, relaxed her joints and slipped beneath him in a slide. Already reacting before she even finished the manoeuvre, Anakin whirled around to parry her attack from behind.

“That’s just like you Jedi!” Ventress gritted her teeth, “How does it feel, leaving your apprentice behind, to the mercy of the enemy? That’s what you Jedi do, isn’t it?”

“Unlike you, Ventress,” Anakin reached out with his organic hand to crush the console, only for Ventress to snap back with her second saber, “We Jedi can trust each other! Now that’s a luxury you wish you have, don’t you!?”

That struck a chord. Ventress released a guttural roar, any semblance of grace leaving her form as she came at him with full force, raining blow after blow upon him. Rage fuelled her as she held nothing back, pushing for the kill. Anakin took one step back, and then another, concentrating on blocking and parrying her attacks as they grew increasingly sloppy. All he needed was for her to slip once. The musty air, tinged with the sharp scent of smouldering electronics, muffled the sizzle and crash of lightsabers clashing in deadly earnest.

“Do you really think your puny trap will work!?” Ventress hammered down, the Force magnifying her strength to impossible heights, “Do you know who you pitted her against?”

“Is that admiration I hear?” Anakin couldn’t help but ask in disbelief, “You must be getting drunk on the dark side!”

“I’ll admire anybody with the power to put the Republic in its place!” bringing down both sabers, Ventress was able to break Anakin’s guard–much to both their surprise–though Ventress reacted first, capitalising on his off-kilted poise to launch a flying kick that sent him careening into the wall.

“Scout’s not alone,” Anakin gasped, forcing stale air to refill his lungs, “I won’t leave her alone.”

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“You… did,” Ventress was out of breath too.

“No. I never trained her in the Jedi way,” Anakin drew himself back up to his full height, brandishing his sapphire flame once more, “Everything she learned, she seeked. If not from me, then those who know better than me. I never restrained her.”

“And you think that’ll help her defeat the Hydra?”

“You won’t know this, Ventress, but the Jedi and Republic Navy don’t have the best relationship,” he smiled wryly, “If she is defeated, it won’t be because she couldn’t trust the crew of the Harbinger.”

Anakin knew the old masters of the High Council would never let him hear the end of it should it be revealed he ‘abandoned’ his Padawan, but they were at war, and that called for flexibility. Anakin Skywalker had never been the best apprentice himself, nor would he be a traditional master. Tallisibeth has only known two places her entire life; the Jedi Temple, and the Harbinger. She had never been able to embark on the galactic adventures and missions that made the bedrock foundation of every Padawan Learner’s experience.

For Tallisibeth, the Harbinger was her Jedi Master as much as Anakin Skywalker was. Whether it be Admiral Yularen, the sensor chiefs with Lieutenant Klev, the comms specialists like Avrey, or even down to the gunnery officers. Everything, anything she wanted to learn, Anakin never restrained her. The flagship of the Open Circle was her bedrock. Anakin was no stranger to the extant friction between Jedi Command and the Republic Navy, and from that perspective it could certainly be argued Tallisibeth was left among belligerent strangers.

But she wasn’t. Anakin made sure of that. He made sure Tallisibeth was in good company, among friends and comrades, of men and women far more capable than he.

“And if she dies?”

“She won’t,” Anakin Skywalker inserted with such utter confidence that for a moment, Ventress believed him wholeheartedly, “After all, I am still her Master.”

And the Open Circle Fleet was still the best of the best, with the Chosen One’s presence or not.

“Your arrogance will undo you,” Ventress retorted nonetheless.

“I’ll await that day eagerly.”

A tense silence settled as the two warriors circled around the central command console, squaring each other off as they analysed and reacted accordingly, making minute adjustments in their stance to counter the other, all wholly invisible to the untrained eye. The console beeped inconspicuously… and then it chimed.

A tiny datacard popped out the slot.

Anakin and Ventress clashed gazes.