**Chapter 686: Cleansing Fire**
**Scene 1**
**Zardossa Stix, Desert Moon**
**Dagon POV**
The desert moon of Zardossa Stix baked under the harsh light of its distant sun. Ancient winds whipped sand across the dunes, revealing glimpses of the ruined temple built in honor of Malmourral — the Bardottan demon of war. This was the stronghold of the Frangawl Cult, a bloodthirsty sect that had once ruled Bardotta before being banished by the Dagoyan Masters.
They had prophesied a great darkness in the galaxy — the kind of darkness that tended to attract Sith and other dark side users. I had decided it was better to eliminate any potential rival dark side sect before they could become a problem. Especially since these fanatics had targeted Jar Jar Binks' girlfriend and maintained troubling ties with Mother Talzin.
It was surprisingly easy.
I stood atop a dune, watching as my girls descended upon the cult like divine judgment.
Ahsoka led the charge, her twin white lightsabers spinning in deadly arcs as she carved through a group of masked cultists. Zule was right behind her, blue Force lightning crackling from her fingertips, electrocuting three cultists who tried to flee.
"Oh, you're trying to get away?" Zule laughed darkly. "Sorry, but you're evil."
Erictia and Flare moved in perfect sync, their blades flashing as they cut down cultists attempting to regroup near the temple entrance. Shin and Aayla worked together, using the Force to hurl massive chunks of temple stone onto groups of enemies. Kayla, Visenya, and Grace unleashed devastating barrages from their custom blasters, blasting holes through wooden masks and robes alike. Stella and Sakura provided long-range support, picking off stragglers with precise shots.
In less than twenty minutes, all three hundred members of the Frangawl Cult lay dead.
Aayla lowered her lightsaber, breathing slightly heavy. "The dark side feels… satisfied. Even though we just killed them, it almost feels like it approves."
"It's a force of nature, remember?" Shin replied calmly. "We are doing good here. So it's good."
I nodded. "Yeah. Anyway, Grace, ready the shuttle and contact the *Annihilator*. Two heavy caliber shots should be sufficient."
As our shuttle lifted off the surface, I watched from the viewport. Two brilliant green streaks lanced down from orbit — super-heavy turbolaser fire from the *Annihilator*. The ancient temple and the surrounding cultist settlement vanished in a thunderous explosion of fire and sand. No guilty conscience here. The place had been a den of dark side worship and criminal activity.
The desert would claim the rest.
**Scene 2**
**Eriadu Orbit**
**Allegiance-class Battlecruiser, Sovereign**
**Wilhuff Tarkin POV**
It had been a shock seeing the *Annihilator* on the holoscreens. A greater shock to learn that Dagon Marek was now Grand Master of the Jedi Order and Supreme Commander of the Republic. But for Wilhuff Tarkin personally, the news had been catastrophic.
He stood on the bridge of the *Sovereign*, staring at the tactical display of the 18th Sector Army. Everything had changed in a single afternoon.
FLASHBACK 1 day after the attack on Coruscant
A midshipman ran past. Tarkin stopped him sharply.
"What's happened?"
"Vice Admiral, sir!" the young man tried to stand at attention but failed. "There was a powerful explosion at the Formosa Hotel! The building was almost completely destroyed!"
Tarkin felt a rare flicker of panic. "What about Moff Jussik and the other senior officers?!"
"Unknown, sir! For now, they're listed as missing in action. But… the explosion was powerful. Excuse me, sir, I have to run."
Tarkin closed his eyes for a moment. *Great. Everything's just great. To lose all command at once…*
With a sigh, he walked to the center of the bridge, directly beneath the central tactical projector showing the entire sector.
"Attention! Silence!" Tarkin rarely raised his voice, but sometimes it was necessary.
The officers fell quiet.
"I understand," Tarkin continued in a measured tone, "that we have an emergency, but let's not create a mess. Who's in charge now?"
Grand Captain Luoyang Shardam checked his datapad. "Sir, most of the senior officers — including Moff Jussik, Chief Admiral Heinz, Vice Marshal Tsang, and others — were in the hotel. Their status remains unconfirmed." He tapped a terminal. "According to security records, you currently hold the highest rank in this building, sir."
Tarkin winced. *Things couldn't be worse.* The previous Moff had chosen the luxurious Formosa Hotel for his quarters, and many officers had followed suit to remain visible. Lunch was an unquestioned tradition, and the end of the workday meant a mass exodus from headquarters.
"Basically, we've lost our senior officers for now," Tarkin said, "but not those who ensure our military might. These captains, majors, and lieutenants are far more informed than their superiors. Rancor be damned — this is a great opportunity!"
He took a deep breath and began issuing orders.
"Due to the emergency situation, I am assuming command as the senior officer present. All personnel are to assume their assigned positions according to the staffing schedule, regardless of current rank. Notify all squadrons on patrol. Increase security at all military installations in accordance with Plan Orange-Eleven. Place the Eriadu garrison on full alert. Prepare the fleet to repel a possible attack. If the strike on the Moff was part of the Separatists' plan, then an attack on Eriadu could be their next move."
Brigadier General Gideon Tarkin approached, lowering his voice. "May I speak to you, sir?"
Wilhoff nodded.
"You're something else, sir… Can you handle it?"
"Do I have a choice?" Wilhoff chuckled dryly. "I sent the Second Battalion to the hotel, but I'm not sure anyone survived. Everything was blown to the Hutt burp, right down to the foundations."
"Sabotage?"
"Exactly. There was nothing there that should have exploded."
Wilhoff thought for a moment. "Move another battalion to the Administration and Communications Center buildings. Preferably with sappers. Those could be the next targets."
"I'll send another battalion here to strengthen headquarters security," Gideon said, saluting before hurrying off.
"Sir," the communications officer approached. "The Senator is calling you."
Wilhoff winced. His relative, Shayla Paige-Tarkin, was far too independent and domineering. Still, she was an excellent senator who genuinely cared for the Seswenna sector.
He took the headset. "Wilhuff Tarkin, Acting Moff of Sector 18, speaking."
"Wil!" Shayla's smooth voice came through. "What's going on? We saw smoke from the southern district! The news reported an explosion at the Formosa! I take it the Moff is dead?"
"It hasn't been confirmed yet, but the chances that he and the other officers survived are slim. It's believed to be a sabotage operation by the CIS. Other attacks could follow. At this point, my rank was the highest available, so I assumed command."
"I'll support you in any way I can. Get things in order… However, it's not for me to lecture you."
"That's for sure. I can manage without your advice," Wilhoff replied dryly. "Excuse me, Senator. I'm on the line to Coruscant. I need to report what happened to Headquarters."