The Dark Voice

Epic of Ducant

By KAP Timeros Caesus Entar

Prologue:

A Prophecy Denied:

And they think the righteous path is hard to walk.

Aurelio was only vaguely aware of his amusement as he stood on the landing pad, watching dark clouds gather above him. Already, he could hear the clap of thunder in the distance, and from his vantage point on top of the Storm House, he could see a torrent of rain disturb Terushin Lake some miles off, dark shores rippling under the unleashed fury of the elements. Soon, the House would once again be ravaged by its namesake, a thunderstorm let loose to form its voltage-laden crown.

As much as any being filled with darkness could be, Aurelio felt…in touch with the world around him. He felt as though he were the unchained force of the elements itself, the powerful gale blowing his way, the heavy clouds reflecting themselves in his soul. He made no secret of his admiration for the world once named Ruch but now named more aptly after its owner…Ducant.

A ripple of amusement traveled over the weathered man’s face. Of course I admire this planet. I chose it as my share of the conquest, after all.

He grimaced at the memories…sporadic saber-flashes and fallen foes cascading through his mind in an infinitely repeated series of battles as his thoughts wandered towards that glorious time…the last Great Jedi War, or –as the Commonwealth called it- the fifth Pan-Galactic War. They were memories he cherished, memories of younger days. For despite now being in his sixties, Aurelio Ducant had once stood among the greatest warriors of the Brotherhood, a master of many saber forms and recipient of the Order of Dinistr. His exploits had earned him this planet…and had allowed him to start his own house…Ducant.

Those days, of course, were past. The Quaestor stared at his lightsaber absentmindedly, finger on the activation switch. He had changed…once a warrior, Aurelio was now nearing his sixties and had chosen a more cerebral path. Powerful with the Force and agile in mind, a ruler of his world, a general…and a bureaucrat. And along with that his saber had changed function, turning from a weapon to a badge of office. While the aging man still practiced with it almost daily, it had been over fifteen years since he had last activated the weapon in anger.

Today, however, that would change. Within the Storm House, a woman was giving birth to a child. Promises had been made following Lyra’s pregnancy…and they would have to be broken if House Ducant was to survive unscathed.

The wavefront of irritation hit the fore of Aurelio’s mind at the same instant as the first drops of rain, both swelling rapidly. With an annoyed, almost subconscious motion of his hand, the Adept called upon the Force, bending aside the droplets and thus remaining dry and untouched within the heart of the storm. It was a waste of energy, perhaps…but with the man he was about to face, the Queastor preferred not to be slowed by rain-soaked clothes. And yet while he could stop the tide of rain, he could not stop from feeling…old.

The man stared down as the water pooled into a miniature lake at his feet, reflection staring back at him. While far from a withered man, his face was already wrinkling, and his wiry, angular appearance seemed suddenly weak, wavy black hair now tainted by streaks of gray. A respectable image, perhaps, but also a continuous reminder of the youth he had lost.

Get a hold of yourself, Aurelio, the Adept reminded himself sternly. This was not a time for introspection.

A flash of recognition, an unmistakable footprint above the world’s atmosphere, Aurelio’s Force-enhanced senses…it all came together within moments.

Jedi Master Luran Norrik had just arrived on Ducant.

Minutes ticked idly by as the ship parked itself carefully, unchallenged by the planet’s defensive systems, approaching the Storm House at a pace that seemed leisurely but was, in fact, merely careful.

Had Aurelio been so inclined, he could have ordered the orbital defenses, the defensive fighter groups, and the ground-based turrets to swivel their guns towards the Kuati fightercraft and shower it with a rain of blaster bolts. But that would only drive away the Jedi Master to try again later, rather than lure him in. And besides, it was unlikely that any number of defenses could stop the Jedi Master. One in league with the Force, the Adept had reasoned, was better challenged by a more personal touch.

The craft swooped from the clouds, its sharp colors illuminated by flashes of thunder, giving a sharp outline of blaster cannons and proton torpedo launchers, unchanging weapons of war that had persisted for thousands of years, and likely would for thousands more. The design had not varied much from the original X-Wing, differing only in being slightly larger and having its wings spread out somewhat more, so as to better shoot targets at longer ranges.

For all the fury of the storm, the ship touched down almost gently, repulsors gliding smoothly across the landing pad and causing ripples on the rapidly accumulating body of water, disturbing its starry reflection of the lights that illuminated the Storm House’s roof.

The fighter’s cabin opened, revealing the truth behind Aurelio’s feelings…Norrik, Jedi Master and member of the Council. The Adept watched him, felt the apprehension dawn within the Jedi Master as he climbed out of his fighter and turned to face the waiting Quaestor.

Norrik’s powerful build, sporting broad shoulders and bulging muscles, was almost Aurelio’s antithesis. While actually slightly older than Aurelio, the Jedi Councilor had never truly settled down, continuing his quest to right wrongs.

Or, Aurelio thought in amusement, whatever it is they think they’re doing.

“Aurelio, this place is even more misery-tained than before,” The Master’s voice was cool and considerate, undisturbed by the hostility the other knew he was radiating. Aurelio had not offered to shield him from the rain, and the Luran had not requested it, showing that he too was aware of the hostility that permeated the air like so much poison.

“Luran,” Aurelio nodded calmly. He noticed that the Jedi Master held one hand discreetly inside his robes. So, Norrik had come prepared.

“The child is being born right now.” It was a statement, not a question…a subtle hint that Norrik, too, could feel the child’s mental screams as the echoed across the Storm House.

“Yes,” Aurelio nodded. “Within the next half hour or so, Ducant will have a new son. Wyatt will be pleased.”

The Master nodded at the words, knowing of Aurelio’s pride in his family…and his relief. For while Adamer, the Quaestor’s oldest son, had fathered no less than seven children, his younger son had none. None, at least, until now.

“Good. Let us go inside, then.” Norrik moved step towards the turbolift that could take him to inside the Storm House…only to be stopped by a solid wall of hardened air, crafted by the Force.

“No.”

To his credit, the Councilor did not seem at all surprised when he turned towards Aurelio, who had now let go of his telekinetic hold of the rain, letting it almost instantly soak both men. “You know the prophecy as well as I do, Aurelio. The eldest child of Ducant’s youngest son, to be born in darkness and raised in the light. The child must come with me.”

“The prophecy be damned!” Aurelio spat, eyes blazing with sudden fury. “I will not give away my grandson to be raised by a bunch of bleeding hearts at the Order!”

Norrik cocked an eyebrow. “Why not? Someone as…pragmatic as you should surely appreciate the mutual benefits of the deal. You get your advantage against Clan Tedronai…and we, the certainty that the Brotherhood will not expand into our space. Why pass for such an opportunity?”

Rather than answer, Aurelio just smiled in cruel amusement. “Listen to yourself talk…how can you possibly pretend to still be on the Light Side? You should have joined us long ago, with that attitude.”

“My conscience is clean,” the Master replied sternly. “I will do whatever I must to safeguard the Commonwealth, as you do with your House.” Even, rang the unspoken context, deal with each other.

“Well,” the Quaestor shrugged, “the deal is off.”

“I cannot let you do this,” Norrik warned, extending his arm and revealing his lightsaber, blade not yet extended but the threat implicit. “You cannot stop fate.”

“Well…” Aurelio mentally loosened his robes, shedding the soaked fabric to reveal loose combat attire, saber dangling from his belt. “If the prophecy really is as powerful as you think it is, you should have no problem going through me.”

Not three feet apart, the men faced off, the taller Jedi Master watching the Adept, both flexing their muscles both mental and physical in anticipation of the conflict.

Perhaps to both men’s surprise, it was Norrik who struck first, indigo saber flashing to life and moving in a wild, counterclockwise swing that would bring its tip squarely across Aurelio’s throat.

Rather than activate his own saber to deflect the blow, Aurelio summoned the Dark Side, channeling its energies into a sharp jab at the Master’s arm and slamming his saber back out again, to careen wildly in Norrik’s outstretched arm. A surge of strength brought the saber back on its course, yet before that, the Quaestor had already stepped within the Councilor’s circle of defense, his own weapon flying telekinetically into his hand, thumbing the activation switch to turn the empty hilt into a blade of incandescent fury…

Too late. Even as the crimson gout of flame burst forth, the Jedi Master’s prescient mind had sensed the danger and his free hand shot out, grabbing Aurelio’s saber arm and twisting it sideways, so that the glistening weapon cut no deeper than the edge of his robes.

Even as Aurelio twisted in his grip, the Jedi reversed his grip on the blade and swung it without letting go of his adversary, turning his body and making a blind, reverse lunge at the Adept.

In desperation, the Quaestor summoned upon the Dark Side again, feeling its slick, oily touch taint his mind as he hardened air to create a telekinetic barrier as solid as duracrete, then set it moving with all the speed he could muster.

The wall slammed into the Master, and he was forced to let go of the Dark Jedi as he was catapulted into the air and off the landing pad, lightsaber spinning uncontrollably as it was released from its owner’s grip.

Aurelio did not even attempt to follow up, relieved to have some distance between them. Luran, after all, would have to finish this quickly. A protracted battle would tire him too much to face the other Dark Jedi living within the Storm House, not to mention that the battle waged on the rooftops could motivate them to help their patriarch. Aurelio, on the other hand, had no such pressure, nor would he have to keep any of his strength in reserve for other comers.

The Master, too, seemed to realize this as he focused his own strength with the Force, lifting up the downpour on the angled rooftop while he was still airborne and concentrating it beneath him to soften his fall. Before he had even landed, his lightsaber was already firmly within his hand, reflecting across the torrent of rain like an indigo halo.

Before Norrik could gain his bearings, however, the Quaestor’s malevolent energy had had concentrated themselves around him, rearranging molecules, breaking bonds and inducing energy…

And suddenly the Councilor was trapped within a blazing cloud of steam, heat threatening to literally cook him alive.

This time, it was Luran who drew deeply from the Force, letting the scorching heat enter him and redirecting it, not struggling but accepting the energies that raged through him, taking them in fully, while finding his footing on the tilted rooftop. Only seconds later he released the energies and took to the air, a human missile shooting out and back upon the landing pad.

A telekinetic wave shot out to meet the Jedi Master, but this time Norrik had come prepared, mind briefly interrupting Aurelio’s command of the Dark Side. The barrier dissipated, and the Councilor’s feet again touched the pad. He wasted further time in disrupting the other’s strength and immediately charged saber poised for the kill. Across the pad, Aurelio too raised his saber, one hand outstretched in a classic dueling position while the other shot forth a deadly arc of Force lightning, attempting to slow the Master’s advance.

Norrik caught the electric storm on his saber, dissipating it harmlessly, but grinding his movement almost to a halt…and that was something he could not allow to happen. With another Force-charged movement, he leapt forward, finally bringing their weapons to contact.

Indigo clashed with crimson, sight distorted by the ever-present screen of rain as sparks shot off their blades. Neither combatant spoke, too engrossed in the to and fro of their struggle.

Once again, the Jedi Master seized the initiative, striking hard and fast to keep Aurelio on the defensive, pressing as hard as he could without overly exerting himself. The Adept, too, fought with all the vigor and power he could muster, each blow backed by the Force and his own tremendous skill to create a glowing barrier through which no saber, not even Norrik’s, could penetrate.

And that was, ironically, the one weakness in his defense. He had been too absorbed with defense, too preoccupied by halting blow after blow to feel the Councilor’s sudden attack loom in the distance…and so when Luran struck a high, overhead blow, his weapon went up to defend himself…and he could do nothing to stop the Master from kicking him in the face.

Pain erupted from the Dark Jedi’s face, sharp and clear, as if Norrik had lodged a dagger in his skull, blood flowing freely from his broken nose. Aurelio tumbled back and onto the angled rooftop, sliding down rapidly towards the edge with the Jedi Master following eagerly, saber outstretched and poised to strike down the groaning Adept.

Aurelio hit the drainage pipe at the building’s side with a metallic clang, struggling with the Dark Side to keep conscious. Yet there was no way he could possibly bring his lightsaber to bear in time to stop a lethal blow.

And so, he forewent his weapon in favor of a more crude method, mind forming a solid, telekinetic blow…and striking down hard at the rooftop that separated them.

The effects were immediate. A circular section of the roof, almost twenty feet in diameter, gave way, splintered to pieces under the force of the Quaestor’s attack. Aurelio, ‘downstream’ from the hole, was safe, needing only to brace himself against the shaking remains of the roof.

Norrik was not as lucky. The Jedi Master skidded directly into the hole, crashing into the wall below, and then tumbling further down, his lightsaber seeming curl into itself all the thirty feet of the fall before finally disappearing.

The Councilor hit the ground with a dull ‘thud’.

For a moment, Luran’s life essence seemed to dull and Aurelio’s heart leapt in victory. The next, however, he again jumped to his feet, saber activating as he bolted for one of the doors…ready to look for the child.

The Adept hurled himself across the edge as rain, having finally found a way in, seeped into the building. His eyes scanned the floor plan of the lower building…a conference room, meant to receive visitors, lit by jutting lights from the sides and with a conference table in its center. It offered a magnificent view of the surrounding landscape, and it was easy to reach from the landing pad by a single turbolift…but most importantly, it had only a single access door to the rest of the Storm House. A blast door with an easily defensible corridor behind it, the perfect defense should negotiations turn awry.

As such, when the Jedi reached the door and pressed the datapad to open it, there was no reaction at all save an angry mechanical tone.

And at that moment, a plan dawned to the Adept’s mind.

Nearing the azimuth of his descent, he grabbed onto one of the lights adorning the wall, legs struggling to maintain some form of footing while his one free hand pocketed his lightsaber. And, as Norrik stabbed the door with his saber in an attempt to melt through six inches of durasteel, Aurelio focused, drawing the Force around him inward.

Deeper and deeper he drew, waves of the Force cascading within his being until his very soul felt as if on fire, the pain of his broken nose only adding to the fury he needed to achieve the pinnacle of his power, skin crackling from the blasphemous energies roiling through him. Even Luran paused at the unimaginable energies surging through the Adept and turned to face him, ready for any attack the Aurelio might bring to bear on him…

But when the Quaestor finally released the attack, it was not focused upon the Jedi.

At least, he grimaced, inwardly wincing from the exertion, not directly.

Luran felt…surprise, more than anything, at the sudden gust of wind picking up, wind that the roof should protect him from…and it was only when his danger sense started flaring instants later that he realized the roof was no longer there. Instead, rushing towards him was a blanket of water, its matter rearranged by the Adept’s command of the Dark Side.

With a growl, the Master took to the air, launching himself through the watery curtain perhaps half a second before it hit the floor…and a good thing, too, for an instant later lightning erupted from Aurelio’s hand, electrifying the miniature lake that now lay at his feet.

Desperate to find his footing, the Jedi Master reached out…and grabbed, telekinetically, his fightercraft, moving himself on top of it and keeping it aloft, succeeding only through prescience and the Force at keeping it hovering above the floor, water now almost a foot deep and rapidly swelling. The sudden expansion of matter had first thrown it into the air and as such would have crashed slightly later. It proved to be the Jedi Master’s salvation...at least for a time.

Time, Aurelio smiled fiercely, to finish this.

He pushed off from the wall, saber flying to his hand as his trajectory brought him towards the fighter.

There were three steps separating Norrik from the edge.

Snap-hiss! The saber flashed to life once more, its hum a Doppler scream of many tones. The Jedi Master blocked the strike but stepped back to allow himself some space, too distracted by the effort of keeping the fighter airborne to properly concentrate on the battle.

One.

Without pausing, Aurelio followed through, retracting the weapon and stabbing low, forcing the Jedi Master to backstep once again at the expense of opening himself to a lethal blow. Luran took the opportunity readily, saber moving in a tight arc, ready to behead the careless Adept.

Two.

Aurelio dropped, flat, onto the fighter’s metal cabin, letting go of his saber as he did. And, as the Jedi’s weapon missed him by inches, the crimson-hued blade went up with a wild, telekinetic stab at the Master, who had no choice but to jump back and away from the fightercraft, into the water.

Three.

Aurelio’s lightning flew forth from his hands and hit the watery surface even before Norrik did, electrifying the water as triumph surged through the Dark Adept.

And, when Luran finally fell into the water, his screams, too, sent a wave of pleasure through the Quaestor’s mind. While he managed to remain standing, the closed circuit of his flesh with the water was all the Dark Jedi needed. Smoke crackled and swirled upwards from the Councilor’s mauled body and burnt robes as Aurelio continued, keeping the fighter aloft to shield himself from the effects.

He kept it going for several more seconds…and then released both the fighter and his electric assault, watching Luran topple sideways to crash into the water, floating almost gently across the improvised lake, its peaceful visage disturbed only by the horrible burns across the Master’s body. This time, he did not get up.

At last the blast door opened, draining the water away as two figures stepped forward, moving rapidly towards the Quaestor…Adamer and Wyatt Ducant, his sons.

“My children,” Aurelio nodded at Adamer but raised an eyebrow at Wyatt, for while Adamer had been requested to remain within the corridor, ready to defend the house should Luran emerge victorious, he had not expected Wyatt to join him…not during such a pivotal time for his nascent child.

“Father,” Wyatt responded without reacting to the raised eyebrow, and taking a careful step. Something crunched underneath his feet…the Jedi Master’s lightsaber. “He still lives.”

“Indeed,” Adamer nodded. “He is not dead…not yet.” Without another word, Ducant’s eldest child activated his lightsaber…and then paused in utter horror.

But it was nothing compared to the sudden dread that befell Aurelius. When he reached for the Force…it was suddenly not there, interdicted by a screen of light seemingly miles wide and bright, so agonizingly bright…

“Opposites,” the Jedi Master’s voice was slurred; his face a horrible tableau of lightning-wrought scorches and wrinkles. “Opposites…attract.”

He got up slowly. “They attract…and then…they mutually annihilate.” To the cue, the gleaming wall of light moved closer to Aurelio’s mind, causing a searing pain within the Adept’s very soul. “Right now, I cannot feel the Force…and neither can you, Ducant. If I touch you, you will never be able to use the Force again.”

“Bastard,” Aurelio snarled. “This is a ploy of desperation, born from weakness…a pathetic trick.”

“Hand over the child,” the Master replied coolly, unimpressed by the insult.

“Fool,” the Quaestor snarled. “Even if I did say yes…do you think Wyatt would give up his only child for me? You might annihilate my ability to use the Force. You might even be able to kill me without your weapon. But you will never leave this room alive if you do.

“Go home,” the Adept continued his taunt, seeing Adamer stare straight ahead at the starfighter…and concentrating in the telltale way that implied use of the Force. “The prophecy is over.”

“It cannot be over,” Norrik said softly, still full of determination as he stepped back, climbing into the fighter. “The prophecy will come about one way or the other…even you cannot stop fate.”

“That’s what you said before we started fighting.” Aurelio’s tone was now openly scornful. “You lost…destiny is not set in stone by Oracles. It is set by the strong!”

“Of course,” the Jedi Master admitted, as the cabin closed itself. “And fate is stronger than you. Also, a warning…I can activate this…ploy, as you called it, from orbit, now that we have made connection. You would be wise to not send any fighters after me if you wish to continue enjoying the perks of your power. And…”

Luran smiled, just before the cabin closed completely. When the Adept heard his voice again, it came through a speaker on the fighter’s side. “I wonder what the Iron Throne will say once they see the evidence recorded in this starfighter’s sensors…evidence showing you consort with Jedi.”

With a roar, Wyatt activated his lightsaber, jumping forward as if to bore through the fighter’s plasteel window, but he was already too late. With a titanic roar of engines, the fighter blasted from the ruined room, leaving the three Dark Jedi far behind in its rapid ascent to orbit.

And, as Aurelio felt the screen of light thin about him, he turned towards eldest son. “Did it work?”

“Perfectly,” Adamer nodded, turning towards the sky and watching it flash with lightning, roaring like some great beast that yearned to be fed.

“What worked?” Wyatt inquired impatiently as he, too, turned along with Aurelio. “I felt you reach towards his ship…but what did you do?”

Adamer bared his teeth in something less than a smile. “While our Jedi Master spent his time blocking father’s access to the Force, I changed a few things within his ship…specifically within the drive.

“As you know, every starship needs an inertial dampener to withstand the accelerations of modern space combat. After all, if we did not have it we would soon be turned into the closest possible human approximation of strawberry jam. Even,” now, Adamer did smile. It was not a pleasant sight. “a Jedi Master.”

“So…you destroyed his inertial dampener?” Wyatt, too, seemed suddenly amused.

“Oh, no…” Adamer’s smile was quietly satisfied. “I only tinkered with it a little. It works sufficiently to protect him –and his ship- for most realspace maneuvers. But the moment he enters hyperspace…”

He did not need to finish his explanations for suddenly, the sky lit up in a particularly bright flash of lightning, followed moments later by an explosive sound wave that seemed to rock the very foundations of the Storm House.

Aurelio smiled in satisfaction.

And, deep within the bowels of the Storm House, a child was born.