Chapter Text
She remembered, just bits and pieces from that time… but enough. Five years in carbonite, in the dreamscape… And then, free. It had been a mess, escaping from Zakuul, the pain from carbonite poisoning and the overall exhaustion from it had nearly caused the sith to blackout. When the dust had settled, and things had begun to have some semblance of normalcy, Asylum was attacked, and then Arcann.
Isbalaa jolted awake as the shuttle lurched as it broke the atmosphere of Odessen. Lana was at the controls, furiously pressing buttons as they raced towards the desired quadrant of this empty planet. An Alliance is what she’d described, of people from all over the Empire and the Republic wanting to fight back against the Eternal Throne. To fight for her, for her cause.
The Sith emerged from the shuttle dressed in a armor plated jacket, made with a synthetic nylon that worked in a similar fashion to kevlar, but for blaster bolts, some light leggings and tall armored boots. Around her waist was a thin nerf leather belt with a few pouches and of course, her two lightsabers sat proudly displayed for all to see. People were milling about, she could see Imperial commandos and Republic infantry laughing and joking together, Sith acolytes and Jedi padawans chatting good naturedly, and many more. Isbalaa’s features graced a smile at this, so much had changed.
Five years in carbonite, such a long time, yet to her, it had seemed like hours. Even now the sith wondered if Valkorion was mulling around in her head, no doubt listening to everything and trying to manipulate her thoughts. Lana edged her forward, to speak to them, rally the troops. Well, how hard could it be? She’d spoken to enough battalions before a battle as the Emperor’s Wrath. Surely this shouldn’t be any different. The sith turned on the large drill on the far end of the compound for a moment before letting it come to a stop after just breaking ground. Well, here goes nothing...
“I have nothing to offer you, but the blood, sweat and tears of your worlds. I have nothing to give you, but the shattered remains of your old lives. You can take those pieces and try to put it back together, a process that will only end in failure, or you can come with me. You can take those pieces, and you can use the blood and tears to make something new. To band together to create a new world, a new home, a new cause. For far too long the galaxy has been divided by the petty feud that was the Empire and the Republic. Their ideals got us this far, but we must evolve. We must work together to fight a new fight, a common enemy, an enemy that destroyed not only our lives, but our future.
“It is time that we create a new cause, a new force that this galaxy has never seen. Something that will not only stand against the Eternal Throne, but overcome it. Whatever allegiances you had before now, they are useless to us now. Those are what will divide us, and together, we are strong. Now is the time to fight for something new, an ideal, a promise. A promise to each and every one of your friends and family. A promise to protect them from the evils of this universe, and to fight!”
With those last few words, the sith raised her fist into the air, and let out a pierce battlecry. A cry that was answered by the others, with that the group broke apart, running to machines and supplies as they went to their jobs with new ferver. Isbalaa smiles to herself when Lana gives her a nod of approval. The sith walked over to where her blond friend was and gave her a pat on the shoulder.
“Well, as my first bit of public speaking here I’m gonna say it wasn’t too bad.” The other woman shook her head, but a small smile was on her graceful features.
“I suppose you have retained your speech skills from being the Wrath, everyone’s working now with renewed vigor. And I must say, that I couldn’t have done it better myself.” Lana’s smooth Imperial accent enunciated the words with a honey-like tone. “Well, I must get back to work. I’m still working on getting in touch with Theron.”
“Yeah alright, I’ll just mill about and help where I’m needed.” With that, she began doing just that, milling about the compound, a group of about seven or so individuals were surrounding a crude table off to the side. On it were blueprints of the construction zones and the plans for the base on the planet. The closest to Isbalaa were three women, two of them twi’leks with similar lekku markings, one was taller and green, the other more curvy and muscular with yellow coloring. The third woman was a togruta, the shortest of the three with a thin physique and red lekku. They seemed to be talking admittedly about something or other when the stih approached.
The green twi’lek spun around and gave the wrath a big smile, she waved her over before speaking in a very light and airy tone.
“Hi! Nice to see you again, how’re ya doin’?” She asked, Isbalaa blinked, she was certain she’d never seen this woman in her life, not to mention know her.
“Um… I’m sorry, what?” The others just blinked before the green one spoke again.
“Do… do you not remember us?” She asked softly, no distinct anger in her voice. Isbalaa shook her head.
“No… should I?” The two twi’leks turned to each other and began whispering for a moment before turning back to the wrath.
“We were all rescued together… from Zakuul… you don’t remember anything? We were all on Darth Marr’s ship… we were put in carbonite together…” The brunette took a step back, her brows knitting together in confusion.
“What…? H-how? I-I… I don’t remember…” The wrath raked a hand through her hair and stared at the other women for a moment before the togruta came over and put an arm around her shoulder.
“Hey, it’s alright. I’m sure that it was a big shock, let’s all just back up okay? I’m Mataharii, Balsen’thor of the Jedi Order, or… I was…” The green twi’lek put a hand on Mataharii’s shoulder in a comforting gesture.
“My name is Ayashi Sama’rah, I was once Battlemaster of the Jedi Order. And this is my older sister..” Ayashi trailed off and motioned towards the short yellow twi’lek who just nodded before introducing herself.
“I’m Major Azrina Sama’rah, Commander of Havoc Squad. And as far as I’m concerned, I still am. You may be a sith, and I used to fight those, all of us did once, but I think you’re a pretty cool gal, for an Imp.” Azrina smirked playfully, obviously joking around and put a hand out towards Isbalaa.
“Nice to meet you I suppose.” The wrath said, shaking the hand offered to her. She turned to Ayashi and looked the Jedi over. She was dressed in casual boots and leather riding pants, with a golden overlay shirt common to upper level masters in her field. To simple lightsabers with wooden inlays hung on a thick leather belt that hung from her waist and moved slightly when the jedi approached her.
“Well, I suppose since you’ve been gone so long, you should get acquainted with the others.” Isbalaa blinked at this.
“Others?” Mataharii nodded, jumping over to them, her long billowing dress robes fluttering around her.
“Yeah, there are eight of us in total, counting you. I’ve got no clue why us, when so many others died, but alrighty then!” The togruta giggled, she was very young, she seemed only about eighteen years old, compared to Isbalaa’s twenty-seven.
“...Um, alright…” The sith said softly, before the young woman bounded off in the direction of a large tent that had been set up off to the side. Isbalaa looked at the two twi’lek sisters for a moment. “Is she always like this?” She asked.
Azrina shrugged. “More or less, you get used to it. She’s a sweet girl, lost a lot though, hell, we all have… I just don’t know how she keeps so positive…” Ayashi tugged lightly on her sister’s lekku before running off to follow her younger friend. The group entered the tent, looking around there were indeed seven individuals aside from the sith herself. Three of which were the women she’d already met, two off to the side were deep in conversation. One of which was a Miralian with short cropped hair and non-descriptive attire of black scaled leather. The other was a human with dark skin and white hair with a dark tattoo running down the side of her face, she wore bulky Mandalorian armor and had two blasters at her side.
Of to the right, her three new acquaintances had run over to a deep blue Chiss woman in a long black and white coat with cropped hair and two modified pistols strapped to her thighs. They seemed to be talking to each other about something or other, giving looks at an individual in the center of the room.
Said woman was a dark red Sith Pureblood who was looking intently over the base’s plans, her bright yellow eyes scanned over each detail and with each movement the double bladed lightsaber shifted on her hip. Isbalaa recognized her immediately.
“Vey’Nor!” She cried, running over towards the pureblood, her arms outstretched, the sith collided with Vey’Nor, who let out a soft ‘ooph’ before returning the hug. All other conversation in the room stopped as they looked at the two women embracing.
“I thought I’d never see you again!” Cried Isbalaa, pulling back to look over the sith inquisitor before her. Vey’Nor let out a laugh, patting the brunette’s shoulder affectionately.
“Oh come on, we were in the ship together, wouldn’t have been too long before we all got together again over all this alliance business.” Isbalaa frowned and looked at the floor.
“I don’t remember the ship… I can’t remember anything after the carbonite… not until I woke up on the Gravestone…” The other women in the room had come in to circle the middle table and were just now hearing this.
“Wait wait wait, you don’t remember fighting for our lives to get off of Zakuul?” Asked the Chiss woman, her cropped hair falling into her left crimson eye.
“Or you slashing up those knights?” Commented the white haired mandalorian, who’d taken to leaning against one of the support beams of the tent.
“Or even you stabilizing that generator even as we were trying to escape?” Asked the Mirialan with a clipped imperial accent. She’d taken to the shadows of the tent, making the sniper rifle on her back less noticeable, but she was flipping the vibroknife in her hand every so often. Isbalaa shook her head in response.
“No… I don’t remember any of it… I woke up on the gravestone, in space. On our way to Asylum… that’s it.” Everyone was silent for a moment before the Mandalorian came up to the sith and stuck out her hand.
“Name’s Beliisk, Bounty Hunter and winner of the Great Hunt. Nice to meet ya.” She nodded, and shook Isbalaa’s hand when presented. The Chiss spoke up next.
“Name’s M’axine, fastest shot in the galaxy, I’m the one who took down Nok Drayen and the Void Wolf. Shot em dead.” To further engrain the fact, the woman spun her pistols before holstering them again. Finally the Mirialan spoke up, eyes filtering across each of their faces.
“...Xiindoria… Formerly known as Cipher Nine… Imperial Intelligence…” She murmured, clearly uncomfortable with coming out of the shadows.
“Wait a minute… four Republic and four Imperial… does this seem a little weird to any of you?” Isbalaa exclaimed, her brows furrowed in confusion.
“...That is a little weird, then again, these things do happen for a reason.” Ayashi murmured, putting her head in her hand in a thinking motion. “Perhaps the force will reveal the cause in time.”
“I agree, in my experience, there is no such thing as coincidences.” Xiindoria stated, her tone clipped but non aggressive.
“Well there’s nothing we can do about it right now, we’ve got things to go over and an Alliance to run. I’m thinking that all of us know something or other about our respective fields, so let’s pool our collective knowledge and build an ‘Empire’” The golden togruta stated, a grin making itself known across her features.
And with that, a country was born.