Again, Anew.

[Dak]

Core Worlds > Corusca sector > Coruscant system > Coruscant
Galactic City > Senate Distract > Imperial Palace
Lower Sanctums
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Sporadic blaster fire still echoed in the streets of Galactic City’s central quadrants; the last remnants of resistance against the Grayson Imperium’s successful, albeit fresh conquest of the relic galactic capital. But while uncertainty and fear lingered above, deep beneath the surface of the palace there was a fragile tranquility.

Side-by-side, the Lord-Imperator and his ancestral guardian strolled the winding halls toward the lower sanctum, a place once used for meditation in generations past. The clack of heavy boots and metal against the stone tiled floor echo loud and far, masking the quiet words being exchanged.

“I did find her,” Dak spoke simply, answering a question that had not yet been asked. “It was not easy, Master Cedric – very little remains of those times, it would seem. But,” he delayed, almost as if to allow for a sigh were he capable “I did find the end of her story.”

It had been almost three years since Dak made the difficult decision to leave Cedric’s side to pursue answers in the fragments of his memory banks. Before this most recent re-activation the droid had been in the service of Madame Delara Grayson, an ancestor of Cedric’s from nearly 900 years ago. She was long gone, he knew, but there had been so many questions that remained: Why had she left him? Could he have helped save House Grayson from catastrophe? How had the Graywall come to be lost to time for so long, taking him with it?

This had not been the first time the old droid blinked away centuries. As a droid, Dak already held a fragile grasp of the significance of time, but by now he'd become so disjointed that he often found himself struggling to recall what was current and true. But this time things were different; his hibernation had not been planned – not that he remembered, at least.

“The Jedi Purge,” he continued, glancing in Grayson’s direction as he recalled the tragic event Cedric had explained to him years ago “that’s where I started. I scoured the records of ancient archives and raided datacores of libraries that had been lost in the rise and fall of Republics and Empires. I searched for the pieces that had fallen between the cracks.”

“Your ancestors were betrayed by the government they served. This you know, you told me, but there is far more. Have you ever heard of Illiria Grayson in your learning, Master? She is your direct descendant of almost 15 generations, and the sister of my previous master, Delara. It was them, and some others of the House's central bloodline, who were forced to face the repercussions of the genocide. It was their decisions that ensured the survival of your name, but with great sacrifice.” On that note, the droid's head turned, finally taking a moment to properly observe the tired face of his old friend.

 

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The conversation was a pleasant distraction from the mountain of responsibilities that Cedric would be forced to scale soon. The rise of the Imperium was something the Jedi Master had privately strode toward for decades now. After the fall of the Essonian Dominions, the people of Ession needed a home. They were not a paltry folk; unsatisfied with living as refugees on forgotten worlds. No, the Essonians were people of great destiny - their mantle was to walk the very stars, and tame them if need be.

Even still, such lofty ambition left Cedric rather exhausted as of late. He had little time to devote to personal matters, and even then most of that revolved around the training of new Jedi students. It was always work - Dak's news and his return was a welcome change of pace.

"I'm surprised you managed to find anything after all these years," Cedric mused as they strode deeper into the palace. The halls were utterly empty, save for a handful of worker droids that were quickly scooping up any pieces of art or other items of value to be sold off for the Imperium's funding. Cedric had little care or love for the art of Coruscant's former overlords; they were debased men, and the things they loved even more so.

"I've heard the name, but not the history. Much of my family's past has been obscured by the galaxy's many tragedies," Cedric replied as he came to a halt in the center of the empty meditation chamber. "If you would be willing, I would very much like to know what happened."

[member="Dak"]

 

[Dak]

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Dak found himself distracted for a moment, his focus taken by a pair of labour droids as they passed with a large, extravagantly framed painting that had once decorated the chamber. He could see the silhouette of a humanoid standing at a cliff’s edge, arms behind his back, dwarfed by the distant, looming presence of a Star Destroyer in the sky. A beautiful painting, Dak assumed, but now another casualty of the planet’s conquest.

“I was surprised as well, Master. I had assumed most, if not all, would have been too far lost,” the red of his lenses glint as they shift away from the workers and back to Cedric “as you’ve said; much had been obscured. But not all.” Stopping next to the young Master, Dak observed the barren chamber with curiosity. He wondered who else had stood here over the aeons and what conversations they’d had. Somehow it seemed fitting to him that this would be where he and Cedric found themselves for this moment.

“Of course,” he answered, turning to face the Imperator directly “I’m certain you will find it interesting, if nothing else.” With only a short delay to separate his response from the story, Dak began;

“As I’d mentioned; Madame Illiria – your direct ancestor – was the sister of the woman I’d served previously; Madame Delara. The two of them and a brother, from what I’d found, were the only offspring of the Houses’ central bloodline at the time of the Purge,” he takes a moment to ensure he had not lost the Jedi already, worried the information might have become confusing to follow “that’s your bloodline, Master.”

“They knew they had no hope of winning. Not only that, they were willing to give up their only chance in order to ensure your House survived, in some shape or form, into the future. They abandoned the Graywall on purpose – their fortress, the only place they stood a chance at defending. They knew it would serve a future generation better in peace than it would a last generation in war. Instead, they split up across the galaxy with the other members of the Grayson name. Except Madame Delara,” Dak almost appears saddened in the brief moment of silence that follows her name, finally arriving at the apex of his discovery; the answer that he had searched for for all those years.

“She knew this Imperial regime that had taken power would come for them, your family. Your ancestors were not without reputation, even then, and so she remained in plain sight. Some stayed with her, of course. They fought in the rebellions that followed the massacre. They kept the investigating Inquisitor’s occupied and stopped them from asking questions as to how House Grayson had simply vanished. Ultimately, she kept them from finding Illiria.”

 

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Cedric's gaze never left Dak as the droid spoke. For once, the Jedi Master was caught up in a story someone else was telling for a change. The labor droids bustled around the two of them busily removing any trace of the old regime within the Imperial Palace, but Cedric paid them no mind. He was seemingly engrossed in every word Dak spoke.

"That is amazing work that you have done, Dak," Cedric replied with real awe. "To piece together the story after so many centuries...I doubt even I could achieve such. I thank you for your dedication." His tone was utterly sincere, though he was keenly aware such emotional overtones might not make total sense to the HK droid. Dak was an advanced automaton, and his many centuries of persisting without a memory wipe had allowed for the development of an ego to combat the Id that drove most droids. Even still, Cedric knew that the emotions of organic creatures were often foreign concepts to even the most advanced of droids.

"That explains how we survived the purge. So much information was lost, so many killed, I had suspected that it was only blind luck and the Force's will that my family survived. Now, it seems that luck had less to do with it, and more the tenacity of my ancestors," he paused, "I am certain Delara was endlessly grateful for your service, Dak. You have served us like no other being has ever had. Now that your mission is complete, I would be more than honored to have you back at my side," a calloused hand raised to clap Dak on the mechanical shoulder, "You are more brother than servant Dak. Because of you, I am no longer the last of the Graysons. Now there are two of us."

[member="Dak"]

 

[Dak]

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The droid’s receptors follow Cedric’s hand to his own shoulder and linger on it as the Jedi speaks. While the full sentiment of the words were lost on him, Dak was well aware of the significance of them. He understood Cedric’s desire for family – to preserve and continue the legacy of his people – and to be included among them was a token of respect unlike any other the Essonian could offer.

“I,” surprisingly, the automaton seems to fumble at a fluent response “I am honoured, Master. Truly.” Looking back to the armour-clad Imperator, still battered and fatigued from his campaign on the battlefield, Dak holds his head higher than he had before. He felt proud, or what he imagined that to be.

“My service to this family continues. Madame Delara chose to leave me with the Graywall so that I, like it, could serve the future generations that would come from their sacrifice. I am comforted knowing that I did not fail them in their deaths, because I avenge them in our survival,” Dak gives a nod to himself, knowing that his words were true and not an attempt to convince himself that he had not failed them in his absence.

“I have something for you, Master,” he adds suddenly, his tone abruptly shifting to a far lighter one. He reaches to a satchel at his side and continues to speak as he begins to fumble with the latch. “In the Esstran sector of the Outer Rim there is a planet called Jagomir – a stunning world, Master. Lush and mostly untouched, but filled with many dangerous beasts. There is a small colony there,” he pulls his hand back out, gripping a metallic, palm-sized octahedron tightly and holding up in front of him “it was founded 854 years ago by refugees of a rebel alliance and, while they are aware of the galaxy at large, they have chosen simple lives in isolation. I found them at the end of my journey, only a few months ago now.”

He gives the device a final, gentle squeeze and holds it out for Cedric to take it. Etched into one of the dull, silver panels the weathered sigil of House Grayson can still be seen, though only faintly. “They had a crypt for those they attributed to the founding of their colony. It’s still maintained to this day by keepers out of respect and honour for them. Unfortunately, Madame Delara had already met her end by then, but this place still serves as the final resting place for many other members of House Grayson who followed her and continued her fight. I told the Keepers my story and, with some convincing, they allowed me take this,” he gestures with a slight nod of his head to the item in his hand. “While I lack the means to access it, I do believe this is a holocron.”

 

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"It sounds like a place I would very much like to visit," Cedric mused as he eyed the gleam of the item in Dak's mechanical hands. Such items were priceless: repositories of knowledge and wisdom from bygone eras. Cedric had suspected that his family might have endeavored to build one, but nothing in the records that Cedric had access to indicated as such.

The proof before him was undeniable.

"I think you're right on that one Dak," Cedric mused, obvious excitement threatening to seep into his tired voice. He did well to contain his enthusiasm. The holocron might not have any information on it - indeed it very well may not even have been constructed by the Graysons.

Still, the possibility was far too tempting.

Gently, Cedric reached over to take the holocron into his hands. He observed it within the empyrean, felt the internal locks sealed beneath, and decided that whomever had taken the time to install such measures surely meant to guard some knowledge.

"Thank you for this Dak," Cedric smiled, "I'll get to work on it this evening."

He paused, "Now that your mission is finally concluded, do you intend to return to your former position as my second?"

[member="Dak"]

 

[Dak]

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“You’re very welcome, Master Cedric.” Regardless of the Essonian's composure, the droid was able to read his excitement clearly. His heart rate had elevated the moment he saw the device and he’d noted a dilation of his pupils when he took it into his own hands. Dak was satisfied that his gift had been truly appreciated and hoped it made his leave worth the wait.

Dak gives a nod to Cedric’s question, “Yes, it would appear my purpose remains the same. I was left with the Graywall so that I may continue my service to House Grayson. Now that I’ve concluded my investigation and confirmed this, I am eager to continue, Master. Though, it would seem you’ve been busy these years as well. ‘Grayson Imperium’, is it?”

 

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"Ah, the Imperium," Cedric's lifelong goal seemed like such a drab subject now. Before it had become a reality, it seemed like it was all he could talk about. Now that he'd attained his dream, it felt more like a chore to speak of it.

Funny how life tended to be that way.

"Well, for the past two decades I've been working on restoring the power of my House. I can do the greatest good for the people of the galaxy from the highest position of power. As Imperator of Coruscant, I can start making the changes required to hold off the rising tide of the Sith," he explained. "It's been a difficult battle getting everything underway. More death than I would have liked, but it is done."

He waved a hand all around. "And here we stand, within the imperial palace that has governed the galaxy for generations."

[member="Dak"]

 

[Dak]

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“Through power you gain victory,” Dak speaks softly, dwelling on the expression. “Be careful, Master. I remember those words clearly from my earliest days.” There was a grim irony to them that he hoped had not been intentional.

His receptors follow Cedric’s hands as they wave about before breaking off to once more take a sweep of the grand chamber the two stood in. “Yes, here we are. An earned prize after all this time, I imagine. I suspect this world still has potential – hope, you might say. Somewhere under the scars left by generations of disaster and tyranny, there is a jewel that once meant something to this galaxy.”

He looks back to Cedric with more scrutiny now, still unsure how he should interpret the Jedi’s choice of words. “With careful leadership and patience, it just might again.”

 

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Cedric fell suddenly silent as Dak spoke his words.

The droid had a point. He hadn't stopped to consider just how his actions had follow the teachings of the Sith Code. Granted, his methods had been far less bloodthirsty, and his cause a far more noble one, but there was a vanity to it. Deep down, part of Cedric wished only that the Grayson name live on, and that it remain etched in galactic history. Perhaps that niggling desire had influenced his actions more than he might wish to admit.

Something to ponder.

"You have a point," Cedric conceded, hands raised in defeat. "Though my victory would be the liberation of the people. The other Jedi may judge me for my actions, and I appreciate your input on the matter truly, but I know my path. Here, I can restablize the core, feed millions, restore the economy, promote the values of freedom and understanding in the masses - I can't do that as just another Jedi on the ground."

He paused, "But, if ever I should seem to stray from my objectives, you must tell me so that I can correct myself. I trust your judgement Dak."

[member="Dak"]

 

[Dak]

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“I haven’t meant to imply anything, Master. I only seek to advise caution,” Dak affirms, satisfied that Cedric’s intentions were not soured. “The necessity of power is undeniable, especially to achieve what you aspire to. Just the same, the necessity for careful judgement must not be forgotten.”

The droid gives Cedric a stern nod “And I will do what I can to keep yours from going astray. Though,” he pauses, “this leaves another important question; what are my orders, Master?”

 

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"I appreciate your counsel Dak," Cedric replied truthfully.

When the droid asked for his order, the Jedi turned away. He stalked along the walls of the lower level, his fingers trailing over the permacrete as his gaze traveled out one of the massive window panes. It was a very good question.

"For now, you're to remain at my side, as you always have," he paused, "Soon though, I'll have an assignment that I can only entrust to you. There is a world near here with foundries that has supplied droid armies across the centuries. I will see to it that it is your charge," another pause, "But for now, I wish for you to join me on my expedition to Tython. I think it would be good for both of us to get away from all this chaos for a bit."

[member="Dak"]