Shifting Loyalties

'Docking clearance received, Admiral Karath. Dock control says to head to Port 6B.'

Admiral Saul Karath nodded slightly to the young ensign sitting at a small console in the portside crew pit. Above and beside was the central walkway of the bridge upon which Karath was standing. Around the room glittered the lights of an active bridge.

The ensign herself was a young, short woman with red hair in a short military cut, fit neatly beneath the cap of a Republic Naval uniform. She was painfully young, no more than in her early twenties. But that was the way of things in war. Karath had remembered personally assigning her to the bridge crew only two months ago, after an attack had killed her predecessor.

'Glad to hear it, Ensign Fel. Tell them we'll be docking shortly.'

'Yes, sir,' she acknowledged, pulling the small microphone back over her mouth and turning her attention to the console again. Saul turned away from her and walked back up the aisle, with all the firm presence that a career officer should have, towards the viewing port to look at the sight below. As he walked away she continued her communication with dock control, going through the various protocols, checking all the little checkboxes and making sure all that was required was dealt with.

All the annoyances and hassles of Republic bureaucracy, he thought with his usual distaste for all things bureaucratic. The unnecessary addendums and insubstantial regulations which amount to nothing more than a house of cards, a delicate structure so easy to destroy, so easy to break, and yet all the same it is the structure that holds this union together.

He sighed. Yet, for all its annoyances, it was what held the worlds of the Republic together.

Without it, what is the Republic?

He turned his attention to the planet below, preferring to think of things other than bureaucracy and its intimate relationship with his beloved Republic. The planet was beautiful from above, a glistening blue-green orb with scattered silver streaks. It was the planet Taris, central world in this region. The so-called Coruscant of the Outer Rim.

The name, Karath knew, was deceiving. True, Taris was arguably the most important world in the Outer Rim. It definitely had been although its title was now in question. But the world was not Coruscant. Its city covered only one third of the planet's surface, the rest covered by an expansive ocean and a few isolated areas of land.

Furthermore, it was a den of decadence and corruption. Maybe once it had been a beacon of civilization in the Outer Rim, as its people claimed it was. But it wasn't anymore. Its upper classes, a collection of apathetic aristocrats whose only concern was their own welfare. Its lower classes weren't much better, divided into factions of gangs fighting for supremacy in the slums that were the Lower City. The Under City didn't bear thinking about, the home of exiled criminals, sentenced to a fate worse than death. And in the lightless bottoms of Taris they were driven to depravity beyond that which the pampered inhabitants of the Upper City could comprehend.

The rest of the galaxy, so far as Tarisians cared, could all go to hell. That was why Karath had left.

'Estimate ten minutes until we dock, Admiral.' Ensign Fel said, bringing his attention back to reality and out of his thoughts. Karath turned around to look at the bridge. Its crew were diligently at work, fulfilling the tasks necessary for a proper docking procedure. Beneath their terrific work ethic however, Karath could see they were tired and eager to see shore leave begin.

All but himself. He had little use for the frivolous activities of youth. Such short-lived entertainment as dancing at clubs, laying girls at brothels, and drinking prolifically at bars with a horde of friends were not just activities considered improper for one of his age but ones he himself no longer enjoyed. What time he had was wasted on such empty pleasures when instead he should engage himself in more solid commitments.

I must be getting old, he thought, I enjoy my work more than my vacations.

'Notify me when we have, Ensign,' he said softly but sternly, his voice filled with calm authority. 'Until then I will retire to my quarters.'

'Yes, Admiral.'

He walked down the aisle, heading out of the bridge, admiring the swift compliance of the ensign. When he gave an order, it did not require that he shout at or threaten his officers. He easily inspired loyalty, it was one of the gifts he had been bestowed with, one he felt he had used to his full ability. All that was required was for him to speak the order, and it would be done, so deep was the commitment of his crew.

I suppose it is only natural, Karath thought. I was born to it, raised to it.

Saul was, strange as it might seem at first glance, a Tarisian. In fact, a member of one of the less important noble families of the world. His father had been Pyrgam Karath, head of the honored line of Karath, one of the founding families of Taris from the days of its initial settlement. Saul had been Pyrgam's fourth child, after two daughters and one other son. As such he had gained little attention from his parents, simply the 'baby' as far as they were concerned.

All the same he had still been raised to the standards of etiquette practiced by the upper echelons of Tarisian society. He was to be an aristocrat, the better example of Tarisian citizenry. Such a title required extensive training in the social graces of Tarisian courts of fancy, like how to bow the right way, how to ask a question politely even if the intention was rude, how to tempt a girl into bed even though extramarital sex was tabooed...

Among these less savory requirements of the privilege of being in Taris's upper class was that of being able to command loyalty from one's subjects. Although Taris was, technically speaking, a republican government like most worlds in the Galactic Republic, its aristocracy held all the political power and inhabitants of the Lower City were treated like second-class citizens. As such members of the upper classes were taught to show strength, intelligence, and confidence in front of those considered 'inferior'.

This translated well into the military, especially when one also showed compassion to one's underlings. That had been something Karath had developed on his own however, ignoring his family's example of using fear rather than love to win the loyalty of their subjects. But as a young boy he'd learned that loyalty out of endearment was longer lasting and truer than loyalty out of terror.

Karath shook his head. It was useless to dwell on his past. It was simply that returning home brought it forth. He should concentrate on the here and the now, as had always been his motto. Focus on what was in front of you and was a threat or perhaps an ally, not on the past which you couldn't change, couldn't erase, and couldn't improve. You couldn't win past fights.

He looked around at the military structure around him. Cool metallic, silvery walls. To many, it looked bland, even ugly. To Karath it was the beauty of utilitarian design. Everything was here because it was needed, not because it added to the aesthetic appeal of the ship.

The Leviathan, prototype vessel for the Interdictor-class cruiser, had been built during the Mandalorian Wars, its construction timeframe accelerated to meet the threat of the Clans of Mandalore. It was, in fact, unfinished. Most Republic warships carried some kind of decoration, red paint for example or patterned floors and ceilings. The Leviathan however had none of this, there hadn't been time to give it such decorations. And Karath didn't mind in the least.

He looked around the corridors of his ship. They were empty, unusual for a Republic cruiser. But the Wars were over now, the frantic moving about of the crew a thing of days past. Most people were in their rooms, preparing for shore leave. Most did so by sleeping, recuperating from the exhausting ordeal that had been the Mandalorian Wars. A few might be awake, unable to sleep with the nightmares of war running through their head.

Karath thought back to when he had been their age. He knew what they had gone through. He'd had the distinct pleasure of joining the military right before the Great Sith War. That had been...

Has it really been forty years now? It felt like so long ago, yet he could remember it so clearly. It was a strange, time distorting experience, as though he were both there and very far away.

Almost forty years ago, at the age of sixteen, he had joined one of the top military academies on Taris. The adult age on Taris was eighteen, like the Core Worlds it modeled itself after, but attending a military academy was not considered military service so underage Tarisians were allowed to attend, if they met special qualifications.

Karath happened to meet those qualifications for at a very early age he showed a talent for command and tactical insight. He was by far the most popular person at his childhood school, even if he also happened to be one of the most brilliant students there. So it was little surprise that they accepted his application. What was surprising was the support his family gave him.

Military service was a highly honored practice amongst Tarisians, who embraced their ties to the Republic if out of nothing more than selfish and proud hopes that they would be remembered alongside Coruscant and Alderaan in importance. Even so he had been amazed by the fact that his parents paid for his admission, apparently ignorant of the fact that one of the reasons he was leaving was to get away from them.

Karath had gotten more than he bargained for though. Rebellion in the Empress Teta system erupted only one year after he entered the Academy. Considered at first a troublesome insurrection that nonetheless would be hard to put down the Krath insurgents gained new power when they were taken over by the two Sith Lord Exar Kun and Ulic Qel-Droma less than a year later. The result was galactic war.

Karath stepped into the turbolift and selected the residential deck as his destination. Interpreting his command correctly the turbolift's automated navigation system sent the lift heading downwards. Almost all the decks on the ship were underneath the bridge, which was located on the tall tower-like structure raised above the Leviathan's main hull in a conspicuous fashion.

Saul had always thought that it was a bad location for the command and control center but standard Republic ship design practice put the bridge in the same location as the command center for the entire ship. Thankfully it wasn't usually a problem in battle, the ship's shields usually protecting the bridge from harm. In the event that the shields did fail however the bridge could easily be destroyed by an attacker. A single fighter craft spinning out of control would be enough to destroy the entire ship's command staff.

But who listened to Karath about such things? He was a soldier, not an engineer.

When Karath turned eighteen the Academy evidently decided he was old enough to participate in the real war and shipped him off onboard a Republic cruiser heading out form Taris at the time. He'd come in at the tail end of the war, most of the battles that were to be fought already had been, the Sith and their Mandalorian allies in the process of being pushed back to their last strongholds. All the same the experience had been horrific. But rather than weaken his resolve it had strengthened it.

Seeing the horrors wrought by Sith troops and witnessing the subsequent betrayal of Exar Kun by his best general Ulic had convinced Saul that the Republic was all that stood in the way of total and utter chaos. After the Sith War, after seeing what happened when a solid, unified rule was not present, Karath had sworn his loyalty to the Republic without question.

Now, that loyalty was in doubts. One war had strengthened it, but another, more recent, had weakened Karath's resolve. He'd always assumed the Republic was on the side of right, the guardian of peace and justice, the keeper of order. But the Mandalorian Wars, and what he had seen there had struck a deep blow to that belief.

He came out of the lift and began walking down the corridor. Here the halls were a bit more populated, although he still saw fewer than three people total on his walk to the bridge. He turned the corner and came to his quarters. They were not far from the lift, a convenient location from which he could quickly reach his command if need be. He pulled out a card key he held in his pocket and slid it into the door. It opened from either side and he stepped inside. The door closed behind him with a slight swooshing sound.

His room was not much to marvel on. It was fairly impressive, he supposed, for a CO's quarters. Sojourn-class frigates had only a small one room complex with a food dispenser, single bed, and some small room for personal items. They also had a small 'bathroom' which was really more of a closet with a flush toilet.

By comparison the Leviathan's equivalent was an apartment with a bedroom, kitchen, and bathroom. The bathroom was not only equipped with a toilet but a shower and sink. The kitchen had a microwave as well as a food dispenser, a small freezer, and a stove large enough for one pan. The kitchen also featured a glass table with two chairs by it. The bed in the bedroom was large enough that, if Saul felt like it, he could have hidden a callgirl in it. And he had a small desk for working. What Karath would have been given as the captain of a Sojourn was considered fair game for lieutenants. Such was the luxury of commanding a larger and more space-free cruiser such as the Leviathan.

All in all, it was comfortable. But when Karath reached planetside it would seem laughably pathetic, such luxury could be purchased by a lower middle-class family on most worlds and was nothing compared to the conditions Karath had grown up to. But Karath no longer dwelled on planetside conventions. For more than thirty years now his life had been dominated by the Republic Navy and he had grown accustoms to what few comforts it offered him. To him this was luxury.

He walked into his bedroom and took the sword off of his waist, placing it on the desk next to his bed. He sat down on the bedside and pulled his boots off gently, placing them next to the desk, then his socks, which he placed neatly in one drawer of the same desk. His feet would have been sore from standing around all day if he hadn't been too tired to notice. He unbuckled his uniform's belt, setting it in the same drawer as his socks and then began to remove, piece by piece, his Republic Navy uniform, a dignified black suit colored by red and yellow stripes on his shoulders and down the lining of his jacket.

His comlink he placed on the desk, turning it on so that if his crew wanted his attention they could simply reach him by the wireless connection. It would wake him, one of the habits he'd developed in the military was a light and very attentive sleep. Some people said that Republic soldiers slept with one eye open and one eye closed. That wasn't so far from the truth.

He reached for his datapad and began to type away at it, leaving a message for Carth Onasi, his prized protégé. He invited the young Wing Commander to dinner on Taris' surface the next day. When Carth woke up he'd find the message and send a reply to Saul. Karath expected the pilot to accept his invitation, he'd never been refused before and Carth always appreciated his meetings with Saul, the man who'd taught him everything he knew.

Afterwards, Karath simply lay back on his bed, not even bothering to finish undressing. He was exhausted. It wasn't that he was lacking sleep. It was now a week since the Mandalorian clans had officially surrendered to Revan at Malachor. But Karath had still not recovered from the sleepless nights during the war, when Mandalorian ambushes drove out of the night and ravaged his fleet. Not to mention that today had been mentally exhausting, spending so much time overseeing preparations for docking, writing his way through kilograms of paperwork, and simply having to deal with the whining of Tarisian bureaucrats who wanted everything to be in its proper place. He hadn't gotten a single moment to himself.

Until now.

It would be so easy, so very easy to drift off...

---

Upper City, Taris

Eighteen hours later

Saul placed the cup down in the saucer softly, taking a moment to appreciate the bittersweet taste of cocoa in his mouth. He always loved a good cup of hot chocolate and it was difficult to get out on the Outer Rim. He'd paid a good fifteen credits for one cup and he expected he'd have to pay more to get a second.

Fortunately he wasn't short on money.

He looked around the diner, eying the various inhabitants. This was one of the finer establishments in the Upper City, the Azure Sky. He'd come here occasionally as a child, although his family didn't eat in public often, preferring to instead dine at home served by a plethora of droids and food cooked by fine chefs.

It hadn't changed much in the years, although ownership had probably changed about three to four times. The sign on the door still said, to the distaste of both Karath and the officer sitting across from him, 'No Aliens Served.' The tables were still mostly filled by upper middle-class or less distinguished aristocratic families from across the Upper City, the food still served by state-of-the-art protocol droids.

He turned his attention back to Carth who was sitting on the other side of the table, similarly gazing across the room. He was shaven, with hair neither long nor the short military cut worn by common ground troops. Both had yet to receive their dishes from the kitchen and were patiently waiting. The dish that had once been the appetizer was now little more than a tray of crumbs.

'So, Carth,' Saul said. 'What do you plan on doing on shore leave?'

'Not sure,' Carth replied, turning back to look at Saul. 'I mean, we've been to Taris before and really, it doesn't get much different the more we come back.'

'I suppose not,' Saul admitted, nodding. 'Although I could recommend a few things to you if you'd like. I know the Upper City pretty well and I'm sure I can name some things you missed.'

'Like what?' Carth asked.

'Have you tried watching a duel?' Saul suggested. 'They're very entertaining and are a nice change of pace from a swoop race.'

'You know how I feel about those duels, Saul,' Carth said, shaking his head. 'I don't understand how watching someone spill the guts of another is entertaining in the leas.'

'Oh, they're really not that bad,' Saul assured him. 'And you don't have to watch deathmatches, although I hear there's a new duelist who only does such, I believe he goes by the name 'Starkiller' or some such.'

He shrugged.

'Or you could stick to the swoop races although I understand the galactic circuit is closed right now. It's really just provincial right now.'

'I'll figure something out, Saul,' Carth assured him. 'Thanks though for the offer.'

'It's nothing, I just want to make sure you don't languish in port,' Saul replied. Looking at Carth he caught the glimpse of a protocol droid carrying a tray of two entrées coming their direction.

'Ah, I believe our food has arrived,' he said. Carth turned his head around just in time to see the droid roll up to them and hand the pilot a bantha steak. Then he turned to Karath.

'I believe you ordered the hawk-bat, sir,' the droid said, its voice imitating the intonations of an Alderaanian accent with careful precision.

'Yes, I did,' Saul said nodding. He took the plate from the droid and let the savory smell of the Coruscanti delicacy waft over him. In the middle of the plate was a set of hawk-bat wings covered in gravy, next to them, a bowel of hawk-bat eggs, considered even more delicious than the adult.

'And the bottle of Tarisian, year 21,016,' the droid continued, placing a bucket of ice with a bottle of fine Tarisian ale in it on the table.

'Thank you,' Saul said. 'Would you do us the honor of unscrewing the drink?'

'Of course, sir,' the droid said, and it took the bottle out of the ice bucket and a screw out of a hidden compartment in its wrist. It unscrewed the top carefully and it came off with a satisfying pop.

'Thank you, again,' Saul said and the droid bowed politely before retreating to the kitchen. Then Saul and Carth started on their dishes.

The food was good, a bit saltier than Saul liked it but that was a minor complaint. The meat was cooked just how he liked it. The eggs were just as delicious as he remembered. Carth's food was also reportedly good. Some things apparently didn't change much over the years.

While they waited for the waiter to return asking for their credits, Saul pulled out his datapad and plugged into the holonet. The leading report was that of Revan's departure for the Unknown Regions to pursue renegade Mandalorians who refused to surrender, taking with him much of the Republic Navy.

Saul sighed nostalgically. He would have gone with Revan himself if it hadn't been for the fact that much of his crew were tired and wanted shore leave and the Leviathan itself was in desperate need of repairs. It had been part of the large fleet directly under Revan's command that had engaged Mandalore's personal fleet whilst a large minority the Republic and the majority of the Mandalorian fleets met at the Battle of Malachor V. But bad as the damage it sustained in battle with Mandalore's fleet Saul shuddered to think what would have happened if it had been at Malachor V.

Forcing Mandalore to Malachor V they found the world in shatters. It wasn't even really a planet anymore, just a bundle of planetoids held together by a common pole of gravity. Around it was the wreckage of countless Republic and Mandalorian ships alike. In far orbit there was a small collection of Republic ships remaining. It was then that it was clear that the Mandalorians had lost, Mandalore's fleet all that was remaining of the Mandalorian clans.

It was one of the worse things he had seen done in the war, but Saul held no illusions that it wasn't necessary. The Mass Shadow Generator, the secret weapon used by the Republic at Malachor, hadn't been used than the Wars could have gone on for countless years, costing the Republic dearly. What Revan had done was necessary, if cruel.

The ensuing battle with Mandalore's personal forces had been as a result a small thing. Mandalore had counted on reinforcements from his main fleet to defeat Revan's task force. Without those supporting elements he'd been soundly defeated.

'I still don't know how you Tarisians stand this stuff,' Carth said, putting down his still mostly full glass of Tarisian.

Saul smiled.

'It's an acquired taste. Believe me, if we came here more often you'd get used to it.'

Carth frowned at the thought.

'I already think we come here too often,' he complained. 'I mean, sure, it's your homeworld but even you said you don't like it that much.'

'That's true,' Saul agreed, nodding. 'For the most part. But there are some things about Taris that make me keep on coming back here.' He pointed to the half-empty bottle of Tarisian on the table.

'Like Tarisian ale.'

'Oh, right,' Carth sneered. 'I thought it was because this is where the largest shipyards in the region are and because some smart ass keeps on assigning us here.'

Saul chuckled at that. He found Carth's sense of humor refreshing, particularly in a life where most of what he did was so deathly serious. Would the reactor blow if he decided to push it to its limits by evading the attacks of a Mandalorian battlecruiser? Was the distress beacon for real - or a trap by pirates eager to capture a military vessel for their own purposes? Could he afford to abandon a few decks of his ship to save the rest of it?

It was refreshing for some things to be taken lightly for a change.

'You know, who would have thought we could have the Wars so quickly?' Carth asked, changing the tone of the conversation. 'I mean, the Mandalorians were pounding us at the start of the war. We turned around so quickly.'

'I suppose the credit to that goes to Revan,' Saul replied.

Malachor had been part of Revan's genius, part of the success the Republic had seen in the aftermath of Revan's arrival. Before Revan and the other fallen Jedi had joined the Republic's forces Saul had seen the Republic beaten back, battle after battle. Saul's own forces had done alright. They'd won about as many times as they lost which in the eyes of a weakening Republic resolve made them heroes. Carth had earned his share of medals during those long battles. Saul himself had been promoted from Captain to Admiral and been given command of the Leviathan. But even Saul had thought defeat was eventually inevitable.

Until the Jedi arrived.

'It's a shame more Jedi didn't join us,' Carth thought aloud. 'I mean, we had what, maybe a fifth of the Order. Yet look what we did to the Mandalorians! Imagine how easily the war would have gone if we'd had the entire Order on our side!'

'Don't forget it wasn't just the Jedi as a force,' Saul pointed out. 'Remember that Generals Si-Darlo and Isber were themselves great assets. Without their strategic insight we might not have won the war.'

'Yeah,' Carth admitted. 'I suppose a lot of the credit really goes to the Jedi commanders. But even just your run-of-the-mill Jedi you must admit was one hell of a fighter.'

Saul sighed, conceding Carth's point. The Jedi simply had, for lack of a better word, been amazing. And it was during the Mandalorian Wars that Saul had really first appreciated that. During the Great Sith War he hadn't worked too closely with any of the Jedi generals like Sunrider or Qel-Droma. So he hadn't seen the influence they had on the Republic's success. He'd always assumed they were an important, but not vital force.

This idea had only been strengthened by all his experience between the two galactic conflicts. The standard acts of piracy, rebellion, and crime Karath had been charged to deal with during years of peace often did not even call the attention of the Jedi Order. So he'd assumed that, in general, the Order stayed out of the affairs of the Republic.

He'd been proven right when the Order refused to commit its forces to the Mandalorian Wars, but he hadn't anticipated the cost of his insightfulness. He quickly learned that the Republic's fighting ability was truly dependent on the Jedi. Without them, the Republic was nothing. Karath hadn't wanted to believe it, but the evidence was in front of his eyes, whether he liked it or not.

'Do you ever wonder,' he asked finally. 'Whether or not the Republic is really what we believe it to be?'

The question apparently caught Carth by surprise. Saul's protégé turned his gaze to the Admiral, his eyes filled with disbelief.

'What do you mean, Saul?'

'The Republic,' Saul repeated. 'Is it really the force of good in this galaxy? Does it really protect us from danger? Does it safeguard peace and justice?'

'Of course,' Carth replied, as though the question were itself ridiculous. 'I mean, you've taught me all these years how important the Republic is to the galaxy. Without it all the member worlds would devolve into anarchy, fighting over anything and everything. It's the Republic that guarantees us the benefits we take for granted. I mean, is this some kind of test or something?'

'No, no,' Saul said earnestly. 'It's a genuine question. I mean, consider it, Carth. For all these years we've assumed it was the Republic that protected us. But were we wrong? The Republic couldn't protect us from the Mandalorians.'

'But that was because we weren't prepared!' Carth protested. 'We hadn't done anything to provoke the Mandalorians, we assumed they'd leave us be. We weren't ready for a galactic scale war.'

'Is that an excuse?' Saul retorted. 'Remember what you said before the Mandalorians attacked the Republic. You said we should intervene and stop the Mandalorians from attacking the Outer Rim worlds. I agreed with you. Do you now disagree?'

'No, of course not!' Carth exclaimed, shaking his hand. 'But now I realize we weren't -'

'We should have been prepared!' Saul interrupted. 'The fact that we weren't was a demonstration of weakness. That we didn't intervene on the side of the Outer Rim worlds showed that we had no confidence in our power to deflect enemy threats.'

'Back then the Republic was still recovering -'

'We waited thirteen years, Carth, don't fool yourself,' Saul said. 'If we wanted to we could have built up a military force strong enough to fight off the Mandalorians. But the Senate decided not to, because it believed that the plight of some backwater worlds was not enough to call the attention of the Republic Navy. We only fought when the Mandalorians attacked us!'

He shook his head, sighing.

'The only people who genuinely decided to fight the Mandalorians of their own initiative were the Jedi under Revan. They fought to save the Outer Rim, not because they were attacked. They risked their own lives to save that of others. The Republic would have simply cowered while the rest of the galaxy burned.'

Carth's face was a caricature of shock, his mouth open and his eyes wide. He shook his head, closing his eyes.

'I don't believe what I'm hearing,' Carth said. 'Saul, if the Republic hadn't been there than the Mandalorians would have simply plowed through the galaxy - nothing could have stopped them.'

Saul sighed.

'You're right, Carth. I'm sorry, I just... I just feel at a loss for all that's happened.'

'I can't blame you,' Carth replied. 'I mean, we lost so much during the Wars. And if it weren't for Revan we might not have won.'

Saul knew that Carth was being optimistic about how bad things had been back then but he decided not to say anything. Let Carth believe that the Republic had stood a chance against the Mandalorians. Saul knew for a fact that they hadn't and Carth, for that matter, probably did too.

A few minutes later the waiter droid returned, bringing with it their bill. It was fairly expensive, although nothing Saul couldn't pay. A Republic Admiral's salary wasn't something to laugh at and he usually didn't have much time to spend it between his long tours of duty on the Leviathan. After they had paid for their meal Saul and Carth left the restaurant to head back to the starport.

Walking amidst the Upper City at night would have been beautiful, the kilometer-high skyscrapers lit up by a field of bright lights, but Saul knew all too well that the so-called Coruscant of the Outer Rim's prosperous exterior was simply a gilded surface. In reality the heart of Taris was rotting, had been rotting for years now. And if you know where to look it wasn't too hard to see.

Simply looking around he could see aliens mobbed in the streets, beaten for the crime of living in the wrong place. He could see criminals being escorted to the Under City, who never again would see the light of day. Taris was far from paradise and regardless of whether he'd been born there he would be glad to leave again. But sometimes he wondered if the corruption Taris suffered was only a shadow of what was coming.

The starport was a collection of launch pads near the administrative district. Right now it was fairly busy, military shuttles going back and forth from the fleet above to the surface and then back again. Sitting in one corner was a group of pilots. Saul recognized them instantly, members of Carth's own squadron. They were all waving eagerly and holding bottles of ardees.

'Hey, Carth!' Carth's second Jordo called out. 'Now that you've had some time with the Admiral why not spend some time with us?'

'Yeah!' cried out another pilot, a young red-skinned Twi'lek girl whose name was not coming to Saul. 'We got tickets to a show at Javyar's! It'll be a blast!'

Carth looked to Saul.

'Thanks for the dinner, Saul.'

Saul shook his head.

'No,' he insisted. 'Thank you for accepting the invitation. Now go enjoy yourself. We won't be docked here forever.'

Carth smiled and took the Admiral's hand in his, shaking it. Then he ran out over to the others to the gleeful shouts of his wingmates. Karath merely quirked his lip and watched them run off.

'Admiral, shall we go?'

Karath turned around to see a young ensign standing next to a Republic shuttle five feet away from him. He was waiting for the Admiral to board the shuttle, its engines already humming.

'Yes,' Saul answered. 'Why don't we?'

---

Karath's Quarters, the Leviathan

Two hours later

'What do you mean you passed him up for the promotion?'

Karath slammed his fist into his desk, shaking the image on the holographic projector. Despite his sudden outburst the Secretary of Defense's face seemed unmoved, although it was always hard to tell when the person in question was a Rodian, whose faces didn't have the same range of expressions as a human's.

'I'm sorry, Admiral,' Secretary Aida replied unwaveringly. 'But despite your recommendations we considered Commander Onasi unqualified for this particular commission. There were other candidates we thought more suitable.'

He couldn't understand it. Carth was a decorated war hero, he was well lauded for his actions during the Wars, and he had proven a capable commander under stress. The ship in question, the Reliance, was even under Karath's jurisdiction. What could have convinced the Department of Defense to promote a different officer?

'Who'd you choose instead?' Karath asked, glaring at the holograph.

'Commander Valorum.'

'You mean the Senator's son? The same Senator who sponsored the Chancellor during the last election?' asked unbelieving. 'But he's not even from this sector! He doesn't even belong in my fleet!'

'We will determine who does or does not belong in our fleet, Admiral,' the Secretary snapped. 'Don't forget who you are talking to. The Chancellor himself has made it very clear that he feels very strongly that Valorum is a wise choice. Your personal feelings do not come before the decisions of this office!'

'What's that supposed to mean?' Saul asked.

'It means that you will obey the chain of command if you want to keep your own commission.'

'Is that a threat?' Karath demanded. 'Because for a moment I thought you were putting political loyalties before merit. Secretary, with all due respect, Commander Valorum has a poor record. I served with his commanding officer at Serocco and I know for a fact that Valorum was reprimanded several times for absence in the line of duty. There's even been rumors of him taking spice while on duty. I can't think of a poorer choice you could have made.'

'Admiral,' the holographic head said impatiently. 'We do not require your approval nor your understanding. We require only your obedience. Do we understand one another?'

Karath sighed and bowed his head.

'Yes, sir.'

'Good. Aida out.'

With that the hologram fizzled away. Karath gritted his teeth and clenched his fists. He couldn't believe what was happening. They were promoting a person who clearly wasn't even fit for service to the command of a Republic corvette, just because his father was an old friend and present political ally of the Chancellor.

Karath shook his head. Apparently it didn't matter what you knew anymore, but who you knew. He'd thought he'd escaped that line of thinking when he'd left Taris. But more and more he was finding out to his displeasure that Taris was far less unique than he had initially thought when compared with the rest of the Republic.

He needed a drink. Unfortunately no alcohol could be found aboard the Leviathan as drinking was strictly prohibited aboard military vessels. Normally Saul was a rigid enforcer of that rule. Right now though he wanted to drown his disappointments away and forget about what the Republic was becoming.

A cup of caffa would have to do.

He stepped out into the corridors of the great vessel around him and headed towards ship galley, it was the only place you could find a truly decent cup of caffa on this ship. What came out of the food synthesizer, to be honest, simply tasted like shit.

'Going somewhere?'

He turned around to see a cloaked figure wearing a crimson mask. He recognized the intruder immediately.

'Revan.'

'Surprised to see me?' the Jedi asked, removing his mask carefully to reveal a pale, scarred face. Saul was surprised at what he saw. The supreme commander of the Republic's forces looked even worse than last he saw him and at that time he had just received a deep scar under his left eye from his battle with Mandalore. His skin was deathly white, his eyes no longer were brown but a sickly yellow color, the whites turned somewhat gray.

'I thought you had left for the Unknown Regions,' Karath admitted.

'Not yet,' Revan replied. 'I have a few things left to do, unfinished business if you understand me.'

'What does this have to do with me?' Karath asked, finding Revan's cryptic answers irritating. Revan laughed.

'Always to the point, Admiral,' Revan said admiringly, grinning. Something about the grin sent a chill down Karath's back. 'I wanted to talk, Karath. Is that a problem?'

'No, of course not -'

'Good. Then let's talk.'

Revan suddenly pulled a small circular device out of his robes and placed it on the wall next to them. He fiddled with the dials on the device for a moment and a red light blinked twice. Satisfied Revan turned back to look at a perplexed Saul.

'We don't anyone eavesdropping.'

'What if someone walks in on us?' Karath asked.

'Already taken care of. We won't have any visitors.'

How does he do that? Saul wondered. He snuck on board and has isolated us from the rest of the ship. Even after all these years there are some things I still don't understand.

'What's with all the secrecy?' Karath asked, still confused. 'We can trust my own people can't we?'

Revan shook his head.

'Some things you can't be too careful about, Karath, this is one of them.'

Revan withdrew his hood, showing long black hair.

'Why didn't you come with me, Karath?' Revan gazed towards Saul, a piercing glare. It wasn't angry, not even accusatory. If Karath had to give a name to it he would have said that Revan was looking right through him.

'I wanted to, General,' Karath replied sincerely. 'I was needed here, my crew wanted a rest, from the Wars. You understand, I assume?'

Revan nodded.

'I understand,' he said. 'Your crew was tired and you owed it to them to let them have a little fun. You care greatly for them, don't you?'

'Yes, sir,' Saul replied. 'I've always thought the true measure of a commander's ability is how well he takes care of his men.'

'Have I taken good care of you?'

'You got us through the Wars.'

'Did I? Then would you do something for me, Admiral?'

'If it is within my ability, General, I would be honored.'

Revan grinned again.

'Actually, it's a good thing you decided not to come with me, Karath. I need you where you are.'

'What do you mean?' Saul asked.

'Look around you, Admiral. The Republic is dying. You know it, I know it. Without the Jedi, without me, it wouldn't have survived the Mandalorian Wars.'

Saul nodded, not even bothering to question Revan's logic. Why deny something that was as clear as day? Why refute what he had been saying to Carth today?

'The Senate won't change anything,' Revan continued. They're too comfortable filling their own pockets to worry about the rest of us. The Chancellor won't do anything, he's as guilty as they are.'

'What do you propose we do then?' Saul said.

'The Republic can't be fixed, Karath, so something has to replace it,' Revan replied. He looked Saul straight in the eyes. 'That's what I aim to do, Karath. I'll bring strength and order back to the galaxy. I've already got an army at my side willing to fight. Gone will be the days when we cowered while the Outer Rim burned. And I've come here to ask you - are you with me?'

Saul thought for a moment. What Revan was proposing was nothing less than treason of the highest kind. Revan wanted Saul to assist him in what was essentially a coup. It was insanity. No such thing had ever been done successfully before, it was inconceivable. And if they were caught...

But what if they succeeded? With Revan as their leader it didn't seem so impossible, so unlikely that they could. Where the Republic had failed Revan had succeeded. And he wasn't just a general but a leader. He inspired his people. He had inspired Saul. And if he became ruler of the galaxy? Would that be such a bad thing?

No, Saul thought, no it wouldn't. In fact, it may be just what this galaxy needs. A charismatic, willful leader willing to do what must be done.

Still, if he accepted, it would mean betraying everything he had ever believed in. Could he do it?

It's only what I thought I believed in. But what I believed in all along was order, not the Republic. And right now the Republic is a threat to that order.

'I can't wait forever,' Revan said, interrupting Saul's thoughts. He offered his hand. Saul took it.

'Count me in, General.'