Jedi Insurgency 336

Whilst the name Revan had been spreading across the HoloNet, and his activities seemingly known to all, the Dark Lord of the Sith had remained seated upon his throne. 

Crown Prince Vader had transformed the once crumbling Senate District into a monument of his will. 

Where once there had stood the magnificent structures of the Galactic Republic, with their sweeping promenades, ornamental gardens, and splendid monuments to a thousand years of democracy, there now stood an immense city of black.

Obsidian towers pierced the clouds. Monolithic fortresses occupied entire city blocks, their walls possessing neither windows nor ornamentation. Great avenues stretched between these structures in perfectly straight lines, wide enough to accommodate entire divisions of Imperial walkers marching abreast. The old Senate Building, once the beating heart of galactic civilization, had been replaced by an enormous pyramidal citadel whose apex disappeared into the perpetual smog.

Everything had been constructed according to one man's vision.

And everything had been constructed by his power.

Darth Vader had personally raised the district from the ruins left by the terrible confrontation between himself, Revan, Yoda, and Darth Sidious. Mountains of ferrocrete had been levitated into position, countless tonnes of durasteel had been bent into shape, and the very foundations of the city had been rearranged beneath his command.

A million construction droids had assisted him.

Now, those same machines were building an army.

High above this black metropolis, at the summit of a needle-like spire, the Dark Lord of the Sith occupied his throne.

The Black Throne was a remarkable creation, fashioned from a single great mass of obsidian and reinforced with an intricate latticework of Sith alchemy. Ancient runes glittered beneath its polished surface, their crimson radiance pulsing in accordance with the tremendous energies being channeled through its occupant.

Vader sat upon it like a king of antiquity.

His armored fingers rested upon the armrests, while his black cloak spilled down the steps leading toward the elevated dais. His mask concealed his features, although its presence was now a matter of preference rather than necessity. Behind its expressionless countenance, the Dark Lord contemplated a thousand different matters simultaneously.

For the throne was far more than a seat.

It was an amplifier.

Through its connections to the surrounding architecture, Vader extended his consciousness into the machinery of the capital. His awareness passed through the walls, descended into the factories, and spread across the sprawling mechanical infrastructure of Coruscant.

Everywhere his will pressed, machines answered him.

Far below, enormous foundries thundered as their automated assembly lines manufactured battle droids by the millions. Legions of mechanical infantry marched from their factories directly into waiting transports, while colossal war machines underwent their final inspections beneath the watchful optics of their own kind.

Above the planet, an even greater spectacle unfolded.

Thousands upon thousands of warships occupied the surrounding void.

Star Destroyers, heavy cruisers, carriers, frigates, and innumerable smaller vessels formed an immense armada whose orderly formations stretched across the heavens.

Not one required a living crew, as they were operated through an extraordinary application of Mechu-Deru.

Vader's will permeated the fleet.

He could feel the reactors of his Star Destroyers as readily as a man might feel the beating of his own heart. He could perceive the alignment of their turbolasers, the readiness of their starfighters, and the movements of the billions of mechanical soldiers sleeping within their cargo holds.

With a thought, he could summon them.

With another, he could send them to war.

The mechanical empire he had created knew neither fear nor exhaustion, and it possessed no ambition that might someday threaten its master.

A soft chime disturbed the chamber, and a service droid standing next to a set of elevator doors spoke up. “Grand Admiral Thrawn has arrived.” 

Vader didn't so much as wave his hands. Simply by looking at the door, did it open up. 

Thrawn entered, taking wide strides forward, his white uniform was immaculate, his posture perfectly composed. The Chiss officer crossed the expansive chamber with measured steps, his crimson eyes briefly surveying the elaborate machinery embedded within its walls.

He had visited the Black Spire before, although its continued development remained a matter of considerable professional interest.

The throne, in particular, fascinated him.

As did the man sitting upon it.

"My lord." Thrawn greeted, inclining his head.

"Grand Admiral."

Vader then made a slight gesture.

Between them, a vast holographic representation of the galaxy materialized.

Thousands of stars glittered in the darkness, their colors corresponding to the shifting allegiances of the ongoing civil war. Imperial territory dominated the Core and much of the surrounding regions, while scattered pockets of rebellion had spread across the Mid & Outer Rim.

A handful of sectors near the core were bathed in purple, showing their contested nature. Despite the sea of blue encroaching upon Imperial red, the overall picture was remarkably stable.

"Umbara." Vader declared.

At his command, the hologram expanded until the mysterious world dominated the space between them.

Thrawn studied the projection.

"The latest intelligence reports indicate that the planet's defensive preparations are continuing, my lord. Its orbital facilities are receiving additional shipments of doonium, while the Umbaran government has authorized an unprecedented mobilization of its industrial sector."

"Revan is preparing for war."

"Undoubtedly. The question is whether he intends to fight one."

"Explain." Vader demanded. 

Thrawn clasped his hands behind his back, taking a microsecond to parse through his thoughts. "Despite the rebellion's recent successes, the strategic situation remains remarkably consistent with our projections. The loss of several peripheral systems has undoubtedly inconvenienced Imperial logistics, but there has been no decisive collapse of our defensive lines. In many sectors, the conflict has settled into a war of attrition."

The Chiss manipulated the hologram, illuminating the principal battlefronts.

"Your opponents have demonstrated considerable tactical ingenuity. They have struck vulnerable positions, exploited political unrest, and encouraged resistance among populations already disaffected with Imperial administration. However, none of these accomplishments has fundamentally altered the balance of power."

"Neutra Four has fallen." Vader observed.

"A regrettable development, although hardly an unexpected one. The intervention of the Wookiees and Trandoshans was always likely to produce a local numerical advantage. Their cooperation is more interesting than their victory."

Thrawn enlarged an image of the invading coalition.

"The Trandoshans possess a martial tradition in which individual achievement is measured through the accumulation of Jagannath points. The Wookiees, conversely, place considerable importance upon communal obligation and the preservation of ancestral honor. Under ordinary circumstances, these philosophies would prove mutually antagonistic."

"Yet they fight together." Vader noted. 

"Indeed. Their temporary reconciliation speaks highly of Senator Amidala's diplomatic capabilities. Master Tapal's reputation among the Wookiees and Revan's standing among the Trandoshans provide additional cohesion."

Thrawn paused, appearing somewhat hesitant to continue. 

"Nevertheless, their alliance is a product of extraordinary circumstances rather than an enduring reconciliation. It possesses vulnerabilities that a more patient campaign might exploit."

"Patience.” Vader repeated, the word carrying a trace of contempt.

"A quality that has won as many wars as courage, my lord." Thrawn pressed, not at all afraid to disagree with his benefactor. 

Vader's fingers tightened upon his throne, and the runes beneath his hands glowed brighter.

"Revan has occupied Umbara. He has gathered his allies there. And now he has announced a wedding that will bring his followers together in one place." Vader pressed. 

"A wedding whose publicity has been encouraged with rather suspicious enthusiasm." Thrawn replied, as if to say we both see what is going on here. 

The Chiss then produced a small holographic image. It depicted an elaborate Umbaran ceremonial tapestry. Black and silver threads formed a complicated geometric design, surrounding the figures of two individuals standing beneath a luminous tree.

"This particular work was recently commissioned by the household responsible for arranging the ceremony. I acquired a reproduction through one of our commercial intermediaries."

Vader regarded the artwork without interest.

"Get to your point, Admiral."

"Umbaran ceremonial art possesses an extraordinarily rich symbolic vocabulary. In their traditional matrimonial compositions, the union of two individuals is usually represented through converging patterns, signifying the integration of two families. This particular piece departs quite dramatically from that convention."

Thrawn indicated the surrounding figures.

"Observe the arrangement of the attendants. They are not facing the couple. They are facing outward."

"It's a trap.” Vader boredly huffed, planting an armored fist upon his armored cheek, and leaning lazily to the side. 

"Quite so. Furthermore, the concentric patterns surrounding the central figures resemble those found upon ancient Umbaran memorials commemorating successful ambushes. The artists responsible for those works represented the enemy as a creature willingly entering an enclosed hunting ground."

Thrawn enlarged the design.

"Whether the artist knowingly incorporated these references or merely followed instructions is immaterial. The composition reveals something about the mentality of those organizing the event."

"You believe Revan wants us to think it is a trap, but since he believes he understands me, believes we will over commit, and then he will strike elsewhere?” Vader frowned, unhappy with such a conclusion. 

"I believe he is making a considerable effort to ensure that we believe Umbara is his most valuable possession."

Vader stared at the planet, then thought about those nasty rumors. The things that his wife was said to do with Jay O-Be on Zeltros…no, he refused to believe it! 

"It is." Vader pressed. 

"Perhaps. Consider, also, the extraordinary absence of certain individuals."

With a gesture, Thrawn summoned several holographic portraits.

Mace Windu.

Obi-Wan Kenobi.

Shaak Ti.

Quinlan Vos.

Others followed.

"These Jedi have made no confirmed appearances upon the principal battlefronts in months. We have reports of lesser Knights conducting operations across the Outer Rim, but several members of Revan's senior leadership have effectively disappeared from our intelligence networks."

"They are biding their time, just as my Master is. Fearful of true power.” Vader mocked, a trace of arrogance bleeding through into his voice. 

"An understandable interpretation, although one I consider unlikely. Master Windu's historical record demonstrates a strong preference for decisive intervention at moments of exceptional danger. His campaign against the Separatists, and particularly his conduct during the defense of Coruscant, established a consistent pattern of behavior."

Thrawn replaced Windu's portrait with an image of an ancient Korunnai war carving.

"The martial traditions of Haruun Kal are instructive. Their artwork frequently depicts warriors advancing into storms rather than seeking refuge from them. Master Windu's personal philosophy appears to reflect this cultural inheritance. He does not ordinarily avoid confrontation when he believes a sufficiently important principle is at stake."

"And Kenobi?"

"An altogether different personality."

Thrawn summoned a battered piece of Clone Wars-era armor recovered from one of Kenobi's former campaigns.

"Kenobi has demonstrated an unusual talent for surviving situations in which his opponents possess overwhelming advantages. His preferred defensive discipline rewards restraint, calculated withdrawals, and the deliberate exhaustion of an enemy's offensive capabilities."

The Chiss regarded Vader.

"Kenobi is particularly dangerous when his adversary believes he has finally cornered him."

Vader said nothing, begrudgingly agreeing with the blue-skinned alien. 

"Now consider the two men together. Windu supplies the decisive offense, whilst Kenobi provides the defensive structure required to deliver it. Add Revan, whose historical campaigns demonstrate a remarkable willingness to sacrifice territory in exchange for the destruction of an opponent's principal striking force, and the implications become rather troubling." Thrawn stated with a level-headed coolness, despite the disastrous implications. 

The hologram of Umbara rotated slowly in front of them as Thrawn began to get into his element. 

"An assault upon this planet would present our enemies with an opportunity to concentrate their finest warriors against a single, highly predictable objective.” He stressed. 

"Indeed.” Vader steadily replied, undettered. 

Thrawn's eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly.

"Then we are in agreement that an immediate invasion would be inadvisable."

"No."

The single word reverberated through the chamber.

Vader leaned forward.

"Umbara will fall."

"My lord, I would suggest that the appearance of an invasion might prove more valuable than the invasion itself."

Thrawn enlarged the surrounding sectors.

"We should assemble the fleet within striking distance of Umbara. Allow our enemies to observe the concentration of forces. Encourage their intelligence services to conclude that we intend to commit our principal reserves."

"And then?"

"We attack elsewhere."

The hologram shifted toward the Galactic North.

"With the Mon Calamari currently engaged in multiple theaters, their ability to reinforce threatened systems has been substantially reduced. Furthermore, Supreme Commander Sev'rance Tann has remained conspicuously absent from the northern campaigns."

Thrawn highlighted several important commercial corridors.

"Mygeeto, the approaches to the Braxant sector, and the industrial systems adjoining our northern holdings present opportunities of considerable strategic value."

"Revan will reinforce them." Vader scoffed.

"Revan's reputation is built upon his ability to anticipate the decisions of his opponents. During the Mandalorian Wars, he repeatedly demonstrated an extraordinary understanding of how enemy commanders responded to threatened positions of symbolic importance. Yet this ability can be exploited." Thrawn confidently stated. 

"How?"

"By presenting him with an obvious decision and then refusing to make it."

Thrawn folded his hands.

"If he concentrates his greatest champions upon Umbara, we conquer the Galactic North. If he disperses his forces to defend those territories, Umbara becomes progressively more vulnerable. Either outcome favors the Empire."

The Chiss changed the display again.

"There is also the matter of Arcann."

Vader's gaze sharpened as complex emotions unknowingly entered his heart. This was another one, a rival as great as Revan that challenged his throne. 

Perhaps one even greater. The Darkside whispered. 

"What of him?" Vader neutrally got out. 

"I have dispatched diplomatic representatives to establish direct contact with his government. Preliminary discussions concerning a non-aggression pact are underway."

“Hm.” Vader grunted non-commitally, but Thrawn took this as a sign of approval. 

"Arcann is ambitious, certainly, but his political history suggests that he is not incapable of pragmatism. His experiences with dynastic conflict have provided him with a rather personal understanding of the Sith. That includes both you and Revan.” 

Thrawn offered the faintest of smiles.

"His court has traditionally favored imposing statues and monumental representations of sovereign authority. Such works suggest a ruler concerned with legitimacy, continuity, and the outward appearance of unassailable strength. We should offer him an agreement that permits him to preserve all three."

"And if he refuses?" Vader asked, steepling his fingers, leaning forward in interest. 

"Diplomacy is seldom wasted when it reveals information. This analysis of his character, after all, is only preliminary. And knowledge, is power.” 

Vader contemplated the shifting stars, and fell deep into thought.

Thrawn, meanwhile, believed he had presented an overwhelming argument.

In strictly military terms, he had. Yet there remained one consideration that no calculation of fleets, resources, or political allegiances could adequately address.

Vader rose, floating with the Black Throne, and circled around the Admiral once before turning to look out upon his city. 

"Your analysis is thorough, Admiral."

"Thank you, my lord."

"And your proposed campaign would undoubtedly secure substantial territorial gains."

Thrawn withheld a sigh, then closed his eyes in acceptance for what was to come. 

"But you have overlooked the most important factor:

Padmé Amidala."

"Senator Amidala is indeed a significant political asset to the rebellion. Her influence among former Republican loyalists has been particularly-" 

"She is my wife."

There it was. 

"She is on Umbara. Revan has surrounded her with his followers, his soldiers, his assassins, and his false promises. He parades her before the galaxy as though she were another trophy taken in his conquests."

"My lord, the intelligence presently available does not establish that Senator Amidala is being held against her-"

"THEY HAVE MY WIFE!!!"

The entire spire trembled at this declaration. 

A deafening crack split the chamber as one of the enormous windows fractured from floor to ceiling. Every holographic projector flickered, and the distant fleet momentarily shifted formation in response to the violent disturbance passing through the mechanical consciousness controlling it.

Thrawn stood perfectly still, although one of his immaculately combed hairs suddenly flung straight up, like a rooster's comb. 

Vader's gloved hand had closed into a fist as his cold emotions began to burn like the heart of a dying star. 

"Revan has taken everything from me.” The Dark Lord continued, his voice descending into a terrible whisper. "He has turned my friends against me, corrupted the Jedi, and has made himself the center of a rebellion that threatens everything I have built."

His helmet tilted toward the hologram.

"And now he keeps Padmé at his side."

Thrawn considered his next words with particular care.

"With respect, Lord Vader, Senator Amidala has demonstrated considerable independence throughout her political career. Her opposition to the militarization of the Republic, her clandestine negotiations during the Clone Wars, and her willingness to defy even the Chancellor suggest that her present association with Revan may be voluntary."

Vader slowly turned.

The temperature in the room seemed to plummet.

"Choose your next words carefully." Vader threatened. 

"Naturally." Thrawn inclined his head. "I merely wished to observe that removing Revan from the equation would not necessarily resolve the underlying political disagreement."

"Padmé does not know what he is."

"She knows him to be a remarkably effective military commander."

"HE IS A MONSTER!" Vader roared. 

Another tremendous tremor passed through the spire. The holoprojectors went dark, and for several seconds, the only illumination came from the crimson runes upon the Black Throne and the distant glow of Coruscant's endless cityscape.

"He whispers lies into her ears. Surrounding her with people who despise me. He offers her the illusion of freedom while turning her against everything we once believed in." Vader said, beginning to breath heavily. 

Thrawn studied the imposing figure before him. There was something remarkable about the one born as Anakin Skywalker, hence forth named: Darth Vader. 

The man who had raised an entire city through sheer strength of will, who commanded billions of machines, and who could reshape the course of the war with a single order, remained utterly vulnerable to the fate of one woman.

His enemies had undoubtedly recognized this.

Indeed, Thrawn suspected that their entire strategy depended upon it.

"My lord, I do not question the importance of Senator Amidala. On the contrary, I believe her presence upon Umbara is the principal reason we should approach the planet with exceptional caution."

Vader remained silent, the back of his throne remained floating, not giving his most effective advisor the time of day. 

"Revan understands your attachment. He has observed your conduct on numerous occasions. He knows that an opportunity to confront him would be attractive, but that the prospect of recovering your wife would be irresistible."

"...I know that Umbara is a trap, Admiral. I know that Revan intends to draw me there, that Windu and Kenobi are waiting. I know that the wedding is intended to gather every important member of his coalition beneath a single roof.

I am going anyway."

"My lord-” Thrawn tried once more in vain. 

"Because if Padmé is there, I must go." Vader said in a quiet, vulnerable voice. The yearning, pain, innocence was so real, that the Force cried for its Chosen, bathing Coruscant in a slick rainstorm. 

There was no uncertainty in his voice as he shook the weakness from his shoulders. 

"Let the Galactic North wait. I will not leave my wife in the hands of that creature while I sit upon Coruscant counting victories & losses on a map like some damned politician." Vader snarled. 

Thrawn exhaled softly through his nose.

"I see."

"Do you?"

"Yes, my lord. I believe I do."

The Chiss fell silent for a moment.

"Then perhaps the question is no longer whether we should invade Umbara, but how we might prevent the invasion from becoming precisely the catastrophe our opponents have prepared.

I would recommend extensive reconnaissance, independent logistical reserves, and a command structure capable of functioning should the enemy succeed in severing communications. We should also assume that our opponents possess weapons and capabilities which have not yet been observed."

"Your recommendations are sensible, but unnecessary." Vader responded, the arrogance once more strong in his voice. 

Crimson energy flickered across the throne, and something stirred within the shadows at the far end of the chamber.

"I have not spent these past months preparing merely to repeat our previous encounters."

As he spoke, a low mechanical hum filled the room. Two silhouettes emerged from the darkness.

Thrawn turned to regard what new toy his master would reveal, and for the first time since entering the chamber, the Grand Admiral's composure suffered a visible, if not minor, decline. 

The first figure was tall, slender, and a male-model droid. His polished golden chassis at first looked like your everyday protocol droid. Across its armor, thousands of microscopic Sith runes had been engraved in complicated interlocking patterns. They shifted continuously beneath the metal, rearranging themselves like living script. Black metallic filaments ran beneath his plating, occasionally releasing faint sparks of violet energy.

Then a second machine rolled outward. 

Short, cylindrical, and crowned with a domed head, the astromech appeared superficially unremarkable.

Except for the darkness.

His once-pristine exterior had been replaced with overlapping plates of obsidian-black metal. Crimson runes spiraled across his dome, while narrow openings in his chassis revealed machinery of extraordinary complexity.

The air around both machines bent, and Thrawn felt an unfamiliar pressure building behind his eyes.

He had spent decades studying the technological and military accomplishments of countless civilizations, but these creations defied every conventional framework he possessed.

"Lord Vader, what are these?" Thrawn quietly questioned. 

"Oh, goodness. Surely the Grand Admiral recognizes us, Master Vader." The golden droid tittered in a cultured, somewhat anxious, painfully polite tone. 

The astromech issued a soft whistle, to which Vader regarded them with unmistakable satisfaction.

"Allow me to introduce my newest creations."

The golden droid bowed.

"I am C-3PO, human-cyborg relations." The astromech produced a series of electronic tones. "And this is my counterpart, R2-D2."

Thrawn inclined his head, then saluted. “If that is all, Lord Vader, I must prepare.” 

Vader waved him off in dismissal, and when the Chiss had departed, he gazed off into nothing. 

"She will understand." Vader said quietly to himself. "Once Revan is dead, she will understand."

~~~~~

AN: I'll be pumping the gas from here on out. Umbara is the next Coruscant. Then we'll be going balls to the walls.