Star Wars: Lost Tribe of the Sith: Pantheon

Chapter Two

«This… is amazing.»

«It’s not good, Caretaker.»

«I didn’t say it was,» Hilts responded to his aide. «But it’s still amazing.»

As Kesh’s sun cast its first rays onto the city, Hilts and Jaye looked down upon the palace grounds from the balcony. They’d never seen the city so alive. A writhing carpet of humans and Keshiri blanketed what had once been the Circle Eternal, with people setting up portable shelters for protection against volcanic rain.

Celebrants began gathering the day after Iliana and her warriors had entered the palace, all staking locations in preparation for the Festival of Nida’s Rise. None of the regular citizens would be allowed in for the Testament reading, but it didn’t seem to matter. «This is a planet that needs a party,» Hilts said.

«They want a leader,» Jaye responded. Dark eyes looked up at the Caretaker. «That’s what I heard Iliana saying. All the humans hope some guidance will come from the Grand Lord’s words.»

Hilts chortled. «Well, at least they’ll be hiswords.» He shot a glance back into the palace, where Iliana and her companions stared in stupefaction at the ornate pyramid. «They’ll never even figure out how to turn it on.» That much was true, Hilts remembered; he had barely gotten the thing working during the last Testament Day, twenty-five years earlier. His predecessor had described it as a recording device, and had passed to him the ancient secret for activating it — but it had taken four tries for Hilts to get it right on the appointed day. He wondered if something was wrong with it. Would it play this year?

No matter. He had played the last four days pretty well, Hilts thought. To buy time, he’d lied to Iliana that the device only activated on Testament Day. That had- n’t stopped the arrogant woman from fiddling with it, to no avail — but the ploy had brought the relief he’d hoped for. Along with the revelers, Iliana’s rivals had entered Tahv far ahead of schedule, evidently attracted by their spies’ reports that the Sisters of Seelah had taken the palace. Now, out there in the encampments flew the banners of the Korsinites, the Golden Destiny, Force 57, and countless other factions. Seelah’s van- guard had taken station outside the palace entrance, but it wasn’t clear how long they could bar entry with their opponents’ numbers growing. With eight days remaining before Testament Day, the blood enemies had held off on violence, instead using the mass public gathering as a chance to proselytize. Nida’s Rise had become a festival of blather.

«Looking for a leader in this bunch,» Hilts said. «May the dark side help us all.»

«The conjunction,» Jaye said. Hilts was afraid he was about to hear another round about Jaye’s theory, and what today really was, when the Keshiri sighed and looked directly at him. «Caretaker, I’ll never under- stand why you never challenged to rule the Tribe. You’re wiser in the ways of the ancient Protectors than anyone.»

«Too wise,» Hilts said, amused. «These are the days of the Flagrant Fool, my friend. Knowledgeable men like us can’t get far.»

«But the Tribe teaches that every free man or woman can grow up to become Grand Lord.»

«Which is a fine thing for meto believe,» Hilts said. «But if you believe it, it isn’t as fine. And if those fools out there believe it as well,» he continued, gesturing to the crowd, «it becomes a horrible thing. Your opportunity lies in my failure.» He smirked. «And what’s this ‘Tribe teaches’? No one agrees on what the Tribe is even about anymore.» The schooling system had been just another victim of the upheaval. Under Korsin and his successors, people had worked together. But as individuals increasingly sought shortcuts to sole power, Sith society — if it could be called that — had fallen apart. Hilts clapped his hand on the young aide’s shoulder. «No, it’s too late. Like Donellan, time has passed me by.»

«I don’t agree—»

«Listen, Jaye. When a man of advancing years tells you something is true, either believe him, or nod politely,» Hilts said, stepping away from the railing. «The last thing you want to do is shake his faith in his omni- science.»

«Even if he’s wrong?»

«Especiallyif he’s wrong.» He turned to step back inside the palace. «And speaking of fools.»

Inside, Iliana continued to paw at the little pyramid. Only two of her companions remained, the rest having departed to guard the entrance.

«If it’s some kind of recording device,» Iliana said, «it must have a power source. Perhaps a Lignan crystal.»

«If you find out how it works,» Hilts said, «you’ll be one for the historical records yourself.» He crossed to an unthreatening position near the Sandpipes. After locking his workers in another room, Iliana had kept the caretaker and his assistant in the immediate area, ready to answer questions. Hilts wasn’t going any- where, anyway. The whole thing had become an amusing spectacle — and the players, fun to watch.

He’d found Iliana a fetching woman, if completely venal and untrustworthy. Hilts had never taken a mate, partially because of his dead-end station, but also because he knew that Sith didn’t know how to share. He’d seen it in the histories time and again: all that envy and plotting, even within families. No wonder Yaru Korsin had decreed that the consorts of expired Grand Lords needed to be put to death. Poison had no place in the bedchamber.

Not that Iliana knew it. Now, as she had once the day before, Iliana stepped toward him and looked into his eyes with sudden warmth. «Caretaker, are you sure there’s no way to see the recording now — to alter it?» Her gloved hand brushed gently against his arm.

«Gloyd’s blood, girl! I’m twice your age, at least,» Hilts said. He looked at her with incredulity. «You are a Sister of Seelah.»

Glaring, she shrank back. «And you’re a festering old wart!»

«That’s more like it. Can we get down to facts now? Even if I wanted to, I wouldn’t be able to doctor the message on here. And I don’t want to!» He turned away from her and gestured to the paintings on the atrium walls, depicting the arrival of the travelers from the skies. «This gadget is our only functioning link to that past, to how we came to be. I wouldn’t tamper with it if my life depended on it.»

«How about someone else’s?»

Hilts heard the sharp hiss of Iliana’s lightsaber being activated. Turning cautiously, he saw that her companions had taken Jaye by the arms. «Now, there’s no need for that.»

«I think there is. Start taking apart the device, Caretaker. And while you do,» Iliana said, «we’re going to take this Keshiri apart. There might be something of him left, if you work fast enough.»

Hilts’s eyes alternated between his writhing, panicked assistant and the gleaming widget. He didn’t even know where to begin, but he had to do something. Reluctantly, he took the small pyramid in hand — and nearly dropped it when several figures crashed through the glass windows above, plummeting into the atrium. Dressed in the ancient uvak- leather garb of the Skyborn Rangers, the new arrivals hit the marble surface behind Jaye’s captors and ignited their lightsabers. At the same time, several of Iliana’s warriors from outside entered, retreating from the charge of a grisly- looking mob of misanthropes. Her weapon already drawn, Iliana sprang to her allies’ defense, releasing Jaye, who dived for the floor near Hilts’s feet.

«Now, boy!» Holding his aide’s tunic in one hand and the recorder in the other, Hilts tumbled toward the Sandpipes, away from the fray. Behind them, crimson energy crackled, tearing into Sith flesh. There were two groups of assailants after Iliana, he realized.

Recognizing who they were, Hilts realized what he had to do.

«Human trash!» Iliana screamed with fury as she locked lightsabers with a scarred behemoth of a woman. «Traitorous wench!» yelled a bald mountain of male anger, one of the leather-armored arrivals from above. Clashing, the combatants seemed as interested in insulting their enemies as striking them. So much so that in between blows, they chanced to hear—

«Hey! Up here!»

Heads turned to the glass contraption towering near the north wall. The rumpled Hilts clung to the maintenance ladder by the Sandpipes, with a terrified Jaye on the rungs just beneath. Holding the recording device in one hand, the Caretaker swallowed hard and spoke.

«Factions of Kesh—invited guests—welcome. Um… you’re all early.»