STAR WARS: Gray Jedi

Chapter 9

SPACE. THE SUPER STAR DESTROYER, ENDEAVOR. BRIDGE.

Maas stood at the edge of the bridge, arms crossed behind his back as he stared out the glass window that separated him from the void of space. Countless stars out there in the galaxy, some of them unimaginably larger suns than he could ever hope to comprehend. How small they made him feel. How insignificant. He almost felt as if his very existence and it's purpose meant very little to the universe. It was a thought that often crossed his mind during times of stress. Why bother carrying on, fighting for order in the galaxy when the galaxy itself meant very little to everything beyond it? Why not live a care-free life on some distant planet where no one would bother him? It sounded pleasant - bliss almost - but he drew those thoughts from his mind a long time ago. Minuscule existence or not, he was here - everyone was here - in this galaxy together, whether by accident or design, he did not bother to question. All he knew was that he was alive, and that as long as he was, he would work towards something that would matter - or at least strive to create something that did. He found that purpose in the First Order, fostering and maintaining a lasting peace for all beings in the galaxy. What better purpose could there be? To shepard prosperity for all under your careful tending? It was the best calling a man of his ambition could ask for - and right now, that purpose and all he had done to fulfill it was being threatened by a band of rebel renegades, thieves, and terrorists calling themselves The Resistance. He wouldn't stand for such insolence.

"Sir?" 

Maas hadn't noticed Commander Veranda walk up from behind him. He turned his head over his shoulder and spotted her at the edge of his eyes.

"What is it, Commander?" he asked.

"Sir," Veranda repeated, "We've traced the trajectory of the vessel. We've calculated it's most likely destination to be Nar Shadaa."

Maas gave a soft 'Mmmm' and nodded his head. 

"Very good, Commander," he acknowledged. "Exit light speed at the outer edge of the system. I don't want to risk our presence being discovered."

"Aye, sir." 

Maas noticed Veranda didn't move. He turned to face her.

"Is there something else, Commander?" he asked.

"Sir," she said with some anxiousness, "It's Supreme Leader Snoke. He's hailing us, sir. He wishes to speak with you."

Maas's spine straightened and he took a deep breath, his chest rising slowly. 

"Thank you, Commander," he regarded. "I'll...take it in my quarters."

He exhaled and began to exit the bridge.

The whole way to his captain's quarters, Maas mentally prepared himself for the conversation he was about to have - something he still did, no matter how many times he had spoken to the Supreme Leader. Snoke's presence was one that was always felt - whether you were speaking with him in person or over a holochannel . The weight of Snoke's will was something that overwhelmed you. His wisdom - his power - was something you couldn't ignore. He was more than just the political and military head of the First Order, he was its epicenter. Everything revolved around the will of the Supreme leader, and if Snoke was the shepard, everyone else were the sheep.

Maas finally entered his quarters, and crossed his living area to the side room that served as his personal point of communique. He took a breath and pressed the button that whisked the door open. It was a circular, holo room with nothing inside but a small plinth that stood at its center. He activated the holo plinth and the face of the Supreme Leader rose to the air.

"Grand Admiral Maas," the face said.

Maas bowed. "Supreme Leader."

"I've received no word of your progress as of late, Grand Admiral," Snoke snarled. "It is most disconcerting."

"Apologies, Supreme Leader."

"I would expect a man of your diligence to be more prudent."

"The search for the artifact has proven a most consuming task, Supreme Leader," said Maas. "I apologize for not sending word of our progress. But I am pleased to report we are drawing near to its recovery."

"Near?" queried Snoke. "Just how consuming of a task has it been to retrieve a single holocron!?"

Maas gulped, trying to hide it as best he could. "It seems it has found its way into the hands of a former ally of ours."

"Former ally?" 

Snoke raised his eyebrow - or what could be considered an eyebrow. Snoke's face was contorted, not just from aging, but riddled with scars and a deformity that drew inwards on his left cheek. No one dared questioned how his face ended up that way, but there had always been rumors. Some said his face had been scared and morphed after long years of battle. Others said that he was so powerful in the Dark Side of the Force that the weight of it consumed his body physically. Either way, it was enough to strike the gut of any poor soul who dared looked upon him.

Maas collected himself and explained. "It seems an old subordinate of mine, my lord, has joined with the Resistance and aims to work against us."

"A traitor?" Snoke asked.

"Yes, my lord."

Snoke grew impatient. "I need not remind you, Admiral, the importance of this holocron. This relic contains secrets too sensitive to be disclosed to our enemies. Pieces are being moved into play. Plans are being implemented. I will accept no small amount of incompetence. I expect a man of your resourcefulness to be more discerning in it's retrieval."

"Understood, Supreme Leader." Maas acknowledged.

"Get that holocron!" Snoke snarled.

"Yes, Supreme Leader."

Snoke's hologram faded away, and with that Maas exhaled a deep breath. He felt he had been holding onto it for the entire conversation. He reserved himself, and came to a center. He needed to find that holocron, and he needed to find it now.