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The sound came again. “Straight ahead,” Taneka said.

“No, I think it’s behind—”

Jashvi’s last word mutated into a sharp cry that was abruptly cut off. Taneka whirled. There were now only two Sith behind her, and the foul stench of the tunnels was augmented by the coppery reek of blood. Jashvi was gone.

Mor and Rulin both fired their blasters into the darkness. “Hold your fire!” cried Taneka over the screaming sound, realizing what was likely to happen a split second too late. There was a groaning sound of metal and rock and splashing. Taneka swore loudly in Keshiri.

“Idiots!” she cried. “You sealed the passageway! Did you even see what you were firing at?” She felt their embarrassment in the Force. Growling, she slapped Mor’s face, hard. “You are Sith Sabers! And you panicked like frightened uvak! Now we cannot return the way we came. All we can do is go forward and hope there is a way out of here.”

“My apologies, Saber Shirru,” said Mor. “It will not happen again.”

“If it does, then you will not need to apologize. I will use my blaster on you,” spat Taneka. She shoved a datapad containing what little they had of a map at Mor. “We keep going. Take a look at what intersections are ahead and note any places where we can double back.”

Mor nodded. “Of course. I—”

His eyes widened as he looked over her shoulder. She turned, lifting her arm to fire, even as she knew it would be too late. The last thought that went through her head, as a thing comprising teeth and carrion reek descended upon her, was that if there were indeed any corpses to be brought back for the Sith to study, it would be their own.

OFFICE OF SENATOR KAMERON SULDAR, SENATE BUILDING, CORUSCANT

High Lord Ivaar Workan, more recently known as Kameron Suldar, was not having a good day. First had come the news of four Sith lost in the tunnels below the Jedi Temple after reports of encountering “some form of life.” A team sent to recover them had also vanished, also without reporting anything more substantial. Irritated, Workan had suggested that perhaps the missing Sith had gotten turned around and were coming up with a pathetic excuse to explain their tardiness. “That,” he had said archly to High Lord Shia, whom he had never much cared for, “or they were hallucinating after having enjoyed too many Jedi beverages.”

And now this. He had known that Roki Kem would be arriving today, but he hadn’t expected the entire Senate to be enraptured with the woman. Crowds had started forming around the outside of the Senate Building before dawn, and the blue capes denoting the Senate Security Force were everywhere. It had taken him nearly fifteen minutes to get to his personal office, and now he sat down at his large glass desk and attempted to compose himself. If ever he needed calm, it would be today.

He permitted himself to enjoy the furnishings of his office, his gaze lingering on the beautiful glass sculptures he had brought with him from his home on Kesh. They were in display cases, on view but protected, and as he looked at their stylized depictions of storms raging across a landscape, he felt calmer.

In the end, what did it matter if eight Sith had gotten lost in the labyrinth that was the inner Temple? They would be found, or they would not. What did it matter if Roki Kem, new Senator from Qaras, was wildly popular before she had set foot on Coruscant? Let the news follow her if it wished; he would even see to it that BAMR got an exclusive story or two. The populace, dazzled by Kem and amused by Padnel Ovin, would be nicely distracted from what was really going on.

All served the Sith, whether they did so willingly—or even knowingly.

A knock on his door distracted him from the pleasant fantasy of what Coruscant would soon look like under open Sith rule. “Come,” Workan called.

His “assistant,” Lady Enara Massar, opened the wurlwood door. Elegant and red-haired, Lady Enara’s tailored tunic was completely professional and conservative, yet did nothing to diminish her stunning good looks. Normally calm and perfectly coiffed, she