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Rishi, 16 ATC
The holographic image flickered and died as Darth Marr severed the connection, his final orders transmitted to his fleet. The makeshift base on Rishi was empty now. Satele Shan had long since departed. Lana and Theron had vanished into the back rooms to pack their belongings. The Emperor's Wrath was nowhere to be seen.
As he stepped out of the building into Rishi's humid, warm air, for just a brief moment, he felt watched. He stopped, turning his head slowly to scan the street, the rooftops, the shadows between the buildings. Nothing. The feeling was gone as quickly as it had come.
He moved through the crowded streets to the landing pad. Locals and pirates alike gave him a wide berth; his appearance alone cleared a path more effectively than any lightsaber. He noticed nothing out of the ordinary: a few merchants closing their stalls, children chasing each other between them. A group of drunk locals stumbled past, laughing too loudly.
The ramp to his personal shuttle hissed shut behind him. In that final moment before the seal locked, he felt it again—a subtle shift in the air, a presence so faint it was like the sound of a leaf falling in a silent forest. Most Sith would never have noticed.
Marr settled into his chair and allowed himself a small smile beneath his mask. He had an idea who this was.
He remained alert as the shuttle lifted off, reaching out through the Force again. Yes. There could be no doubt now. And if it was her, following him like a shadow, he also had a very good idea why.
The shuttle docked smoothly in his flagship's hangar. As Marr descended the ramp, the fleeting sensation returned. He paused for a fraction of a second, then continued forward.
On my ship, then, he thought. On my territory. Brave.
He paused occasionally, speaking with a crew member while trying to sense if she was still following. Sometimes he caught that faint presence trailing behind him. Sometimes there was nothing
The door to his meditation chamber slid open with a pneumatic hiss. It was a large, circular, dimly lit room. It was also a fortress within a fortress, equipped with traps keyed to his will alone.
Marr walked to the center of the chamber, turned, and sealed the door behind him with a wave of his hand. With a subtle, almost imperceptible gesture, he activated a suite of sensors designed to detect any intrusion.
"I know you are here," he said calmly.
The air shimmered several meters in front of him, and the Emperor's Wrath materialized, gripping the hilt of her lightsaber. Her black armor nearly merged with the darkness of the room. Her expression was unreadable, her yellow eyes fixed on him.
"Lord Marr. I hope I'm not distracting you from anything urgent." The hum of an igniting lightsaber filled the chamber. "Not that it will matter soon. You'll be dead."
Marr's own weapon ignited in his hand. He kept his stance neutral, non-aggressive. He still hoped this battle would not be won with a lightsaber. If it came to a fight, one of them would not leave this room.
"If you wanted me dead, you could have done it on Rishi." Marr stated. "If you wanted to talk, you could have just called. Why follow me here?"
"I am the Emperor's Wrath," she replied, as if that explained everything. Perhaps, to her, it did. "My duty is to protect him from enemies from without..." She took a step forward. "...and enemies from within."
"And what makes you think I am the enemy?"
"You believed the words of a Jedi." The contempt in her voice was palpable. "You conspire with them, after all they have done to us. And you dare to speak of the Empire's future?"
"Then why haven't you killed me yet?" Marr tilted his head. "I turned my back to you more than once. Even now, you gave me time to draw my weapon."
"You are a man of honor, Darth Marr." Wrath bowed slightly. "I wished to give you the dignity of a fair duel." Her gaze lowered for a second, as if there were something more she wasn't saying.
"Did the Emperor order my execution himself?" Marr asked. He suspected he already knew the answer. The Emperor had not spoken to the Council in years.
He saw it then: the briefest hesitation, a fractional shift in her posture. That told him everything.
"When was the last time he spoke to you?" Marr pressed, keeping his tone level, non-accusatory.
"It doesn't matter," she deflected, her grip tightening on her saber. "The Emperor named me his Wrath. He trusted me to root out corruption where I find it. Even here. Even in you. I don't need his explicit orders to know my duty."
"And where is the Emperor now?" Marr's voice hardened. "Where has he been for all these years while the Empire bled? While we fought the Republic alone? While Malgus launched his coup? We are Sith, Wrath. We do not serve those who fail us. And an Emperor who abandons his Empire has failed."
"The Emperor's plans are beyond our comprehension," Wrath replied coldly. "He sees what we cannot."
Marr's mind raced through what he knew of her. Wrath was one of the most effective weapons the Empire had forged, and this weapon was currently aimed at his heart. Darth Vengean, Darth Baras, Darth Arkous, Darth Malgus defeated in his own throne room... He had no desire to be another name on that list. Not yet. Even here, in his sanctum, he was not fully certain of victory.
Darth Baras. The memory of her duel with Baras sparked an idea.
"Are you certain," Marr asked, lowering his blade slightly, not enough to leave him vulnerable, but enough to signal he was listening, "that the Emperor won't betray you as your former master did?"
Something flickered in her eyes. Her blade wavered—barely, but enough. He'd struck a nerve, though she fought to hide it behind an impassive expression.
"Baras was a traitor and a liar," she argued. "He craved power. The Emperor is power. He doesn't need to lie or betray. When he wants someone dead, they simply cease to exist."
"Your loyalty is your greatest strength, Wrath," Marr said, his voice softer now. "But blind loyalty is a chain. It makes you a slave. Are you the Emperor's slave? Or are you his Wrath—someone who has the courage to face the truth, even if it means standing against him?"
She stared at Marr, her blade still ignited but no longer pointed directly at him.
"You're asking me to trust your judgment over the Emperor's will. To commit treason based on your word alone."
"I'm asking you to trust your own judgment." Marr lowered his blade, holding it at his side. "I have spent my entire life in service to the Empire. Not to one man, but to the idea—the reality—of strength and order." He paused. "Is it treason to try to protect it, or is it the ultimate loyalty?"
Wrath turned away and began to slowly pace the room. Marr distantly noted this would be the perfect moment to strike while her guard was down. He did not move.
"The Emperor's Hand…" She stopped pacing and looked directly at him. "They sent droids to spy on me. I learned of it from Vowrawn. Then the Hand came for him."
"Vowrawn?" Marr repeated. " What happened to him?"
"I don't know." She looked away. "I didn't tell Servant One anything. Vowrawn probably escaped. He's resourceful." She looked at Marr with a concerned expression. "They will likely come for you, too."
Marr smiled to himself. Minutes ago, she had been prepared to kill him herself, and now she was concerned for his safety. The contradiction was almost amusing, except... Except she had never actually tried to kill him, had she? She had wanted him to give her a reason not to. She had wanted him to convince her, to give her permission to doubt.
This was the moment. Marr deactivated his lightsaber and attached it to his belt with slow, deliberate movements.
"You don't want to kill me. We both know that. If you did, I'd already be dead."
He took a step closer, then another, until he was well within the range of her blade. He was utterly vulnerable, and they both knew it. It was a calculated gamble. Wrath didn't move, watching him silently.
"I will not run," Marr continued. "You know where to find me. You can always challenge me to a duel before the Dark Council if you wish."
Slowly, Wrath lowered her blade.
"He will destroy you for this," she said quietly, with a note of regret in her voice.
"Perhaps," Marr conceded. "But if I am right, he will destroy you, too. And the Empire you have fought so hard to protect. Help me defend it, Wrath."
Marr extended his hand toward her.
For a long moment, Wrath was perfectly still, her gaze distant. Then, the hum of her lightsaber died, plunging the room into silence. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, as if preparing to leap into an abyss.
She took his hand.
"You have to explain everything." Wrath looked him in the eye, still holding his hand. "If I'm to be damned alongside you, I want to know why."