Part 2

A secret meeting of imperial captains met on the Malice to discuss recent defeats they had suffered against the New Republic.

"Infighting has weakened us and the Moffs refuse to acknowledge the obvious." Talas said.

Captain Mellex, who was about the same age as Talas replied, "And what would you have us do? None of us like what is happening but we also lack the power to do anything about it."

"I find the one man who can possibly save us." Talas said leaning forward on the table sitting across from Mellex.

Shocked whispers among the other captains left no doubt who Talas meant.

"You can't be serious." Mellex said wide eyed.

He couldn't believe his old friend was even considering it.

"I have planned for this eventuality since Lord Demus left us. As he left I had my sensors operator extrapolate all possible hyperspace routes and even left a homing beacon on the shuttle for insurance.

It can be activated from a remote but it will not last long after so long. By now the ship's batteries have to be low." Talas said.

After much discussion all of them agreed that they did indeed need the Dark Lord's help.

Setting course after the other captains returned to their own ships he began his search. Using the homing beacon in short intervals so he wouldn't drift off course he made his way to the world of Demus' exile.

Taking a shuttle with an armed escort of two ties and a troop transport Talas headed down to the planet.

While ties scouted ahead, stormtroopers created a perimeter staying close to the ships and their guns.

As the sun began to set Talas was getting ready to withdraw to the Malice when a cloaked figure appeared his clothes torn and worn around the edges.

Approaching him as the man emerged from the jungle Talas hardly recognized him. Wearing a full beard and caked in dirt he seemed to belong to the jungle.

Gone was the Force driven aura which had surrounded only to be replaced by something more primal. Now even his stare could chill one to the bone.

Saluting him Talas showed the old stoic professionalism. No matter what his old master looked like, Talas would stay professional and do his duty.

Returning to the Malice Demus was cleaned up and given new clothes. Captain Talas found him in his room meditating.

It had been sometime since Demus had reconnected to the Force and was worried that he was rusty. He had never realized how easily it all came back.

It was almost as if the Darkside had been waiting for him to open the door. The cold chill of its presence enveloped him sinking into his very bones. A lesser man would have drawn away from it, but that would be merely a sign of weakness.

Demus had found comfort the sensation in times past. As long as he had felt its power he had felt strong and safe, but that was the problem: He had not been safe. Steered like a puppet on its strings he had been blind to all possibilities.

Already it whispered to him promising him untold power. Its voice was seductive and thrilling. It took a great deal of self control not to listen.

Demus was no fool. Without the information he needed he was vulnerable.

Anger filled him directed at the Darkside itself.

'You have failed me once already. No longer will I be the servant, but a true master. While I have use for you, that usefulness is limited by how much I trust you. It is a trust you will have to re-earn, until then don't get comfortable.' Demus said inside his head.

Chastened by his words it quieted but still remained.

While aware of Talas entering the room he ignored him for the moment stretching out to the far corners of the galaxy sensing for trouble spots. Already the Empire was destabilizing without a strong leader to rule them.

The Moffs were power hungry and foolish. Each were easy to find and tactically vulnerable. Demus had to hide a smile at the easiness of it all.