Taliya Marr gripped the control yoke of Veil-1 as Tatooine's sky bled into black. Her escape had been narrow—too narrow—and the artifact now pulsed in its case behind her, humming with a cold, ancient rhythm.
"This is a weapon of the in-between," Serion had said when he gave her the ship. "For those who pass unseen, unheard… but not unfelt."
The Veil-1 cut through the upper atmosphere in total silence. Its crescent-shaped wings flared in dark steel as the cloak re-engaged, wrapping the hull in a veil of reflective distortion. From the ground, there was nothing—no trail, no sound, no shimmer. Just sky.
The ship bore the soul of a predator.
Crescent-wings, a cockpit recessed deep into the rear spine, ventral weapon bays that could retract flush to the hull, and landing struts lined with grav-silencers. The pulse-engine glowed once—heatless—and then was gone. Even its exhaust signature was blank.
Taliya leaned back in her seat, feeling her heartbeat slow as the ship entered open space.
She turned her gaze to the artifact once more.
It vibrated softly—alive, aware, and older than the Republic itself.
In the Council Chamber, Anakin and Obi-Wan stood before the gathered Masters. Morning light fell through the tall windows, casting long beams across the floor as the tension rose.
"She wasn't just a thief," Anakin said. "She was trained. Jedi trained. But she moved… differently."
"She didn't try to kill us," Obi-Wan added. "She could've. That corridor gave her the chance. But she used misdirection and escape tactics. Very calculated."
"A Jedi in exile?" Plo Koon asked.
"Possibly," Windu said. "But more than that—she was targeting something specific. She didn't care about credits or chaos. She was after the artifact."
Yoda's expression darkened.
"Something deeper this is. Whispers I have followed. Fragments… of a shadow waking."
"What shadow?" Ki-Adi-Mundi pressed.
Yoda raised a small hand and gestured. A holomap flickered to life—a barely charted system on the Outer Rim, devoid of any Republic presence. One world was marked in faint red: Zereth Prime.
"World long lost. Now stirred. Jedi once found fragments there. Rakatan remnants… sealed by fire."
Windu stepped forward.
"We send a team. Jedi Knights only. Quiet. Fast. Recon only."
"Agreed," Yoda said. "But beware. Old terrors sleep there. New ones… perhaps awake."
The Jedi corvette Starfall's End emerged from hyperspace on approach to Zereth Prime—four Jedi aboard, each calm, each trained. Masters Val Serin and Quira Noss, Knights Talven and Dree. They had faced darkness before.
But not this.
As the stars snapped back into place, something moved in the void before them.
No signature. No warning. Just... presence.
"Contact!" Master Serin shouted, already bringing up shields.
The thing that appeared had no readable mass, no clear silhouette. It bent light around it like a void—a black shape that shimmered and pulsed as if made of thought and gravity.
The Oblivion.
A synthetic predator built from designs never meant to fly. Its hull was semi-organic metal, warped by Rakatan logic and seeded with Force-reactive technology. It did not fire weapons.
It erased targets.
The Jedi corvette banked to retreat—but the navicomputer screamed: navigation lock overridden.
"What?!"
The Oblivion extended a halo of spatial distortion. All around them, hyperspace itself frayed. And then, without a single shot, the Starfall's End vanished—cut from space, cut from time.
Silence followed.
And then: nothing.
Deep below Zereth Prime, Keshl reported.
"Target intercept successful. Jedi vessel lost in phase-space disruption. No escape. No trace."
Serion stood at the apex of the command platform within the central forge-core. Shadows moved along the curved walls—Heralds, semi-sentient AI commanders now grown in number. Each bore new armor, new forms—some almost humanoid, others insectile or spectral.
"Begin containment protocols," Serion said. "Seed branches are awakening. No more guests."
One of the Heralds turned its head, nodding in eerie mimicry.
"We remain unseen. The Outer Rim watches the Clone War. Not us."
"Good," Serion murmured.
His hand brushed over a newly completed weapon—something between a glaive and a pulse-saber, forged from phrik alloy laced with Force-attuned kyber fragments. His tools were evolving.
So too would his soldiers.
Back on Coruscant, the Jedi Council waited.
But no transmission came.
No signal. No distress beacon.
Just silence.
Windu clenched his jaw. "Too long. We should've heard something."
Yoda closed his eyes.
"Gone… they are. Or trapped in something deeper."
Obi-Wan looked to him.
"What do we do?"
"We search again," Yoda said softly. "But more carefully. This shadow does not show itself. It speaks through others. Through machines… and minds bent."
Taliya entered orbit above an unmarked moon in Serion's outer network. The Veil-1 began its descent, cloaked.
As she prepared for landing, the artifact pulsed once more, brighter than before. She stared at it—half afraid, half entranced.
Behind her, a Herald's voice came over the comm.
"Return logged. Overseer awaits."
Taliya looked out the viewport, seeing the landing platforms rise from obsidian canyons far below.
This is bigger than I thought, she realized.
Not just a war machine. Not just relics.
Serion was building a new ----------------------------------------------
And she was now a part of it.