Rain

Currently, I hate the rain. It’s cold and wet and it gets everywhere. And it has been raining on us for three days now, and that is how long we have been running. And apparently Dantooine has decided to provide us with every possible permutation of rain, from a slow, gentle shower, to the current sheets of ice cold drops that sting as they hit.

I look over at Aunt Mara, frowning as she appears to be asleep, noting the gaunt skin, the sunken eyes. I touch her skin, and it feels warm even in the freezing rain. I don think I like how it feels, so different than the sensuous caresses I had dreamed about.

Then I can feel a buzzing in the Force, and know the Vong have found us again. I can feel my frown shift to a scowl as the Force prods me on with a sense of urgency.

“Aunt Mara, it’s time to go.”

I start to help her up, and grimace as I have to drop her to bat the thud bug from the air with my saber. Shutting down my saber, I scan what little of the terrain I can see through the rain and reach down to help Aunt Mara up again.

“Come on Aunt Mara, you can do this.”

I look into her eyes, and bite back a curse at the nearly empty expression that appears in them. I find myself scowling once more, at how used she looks.

Then the moment has passed, and the Aunt Mara that I know and love comes once more to the fore, as she slowly starts scrambling up the rocks in front of me. I take a second to scan the forest as Aunt Mara slips out of sight up on the game trail we’re following.

I hear a growl as a Vong warrior steps out of the forest, it takes me a second to realize that the growl is coming from me. I size the warrior up, noting the way he flexes and pivots on the balls of his feet.

Then he has his amphistaff in hand, flying towards me.

“Amateur.”

As he attempts to jump over me, I ignite and swing my saber with all the strength I can muster, sawing through the joints on his legs, feeling a deep satisfaction as the legs land at my feet, while the rest of him carry on over my head.

I look at him, a sneer crossing my face as I quickly step in and shove the blade into that weak spot under his arm. The rain quickly washes the stench and blood from me as I hurry up the path after Aunt Mara. I shut the blade down, and step over the inert form.

As I start following the trail once more, a red blaster bolt shoots out, passing inches from my head, and I can hear it connect with something immediately behind me. Spinning around, I look down and see the burnt carcass of another thud bug.

Turning I see Aunt Mara standing by a large tree, sliding her blaster back into its holster. She catches my eye and gives me a smirk, which I happily return.

The voice I hear is low and hoarse, I can feel a spike of pain as her throat is raw from coughing. “Not quite what you were expecting when you were assigned babysitting duties huh Solo?”

Any retort I might have had, died on my lips as her body is wracked by a cough. Looking around I notice the path branches off, one going up into the foothills that we’re at the bottom of, the other following the foothills here in the valley. Slipping my arm around her, I start leading us once up the pathway into the foothills. “Come on Aunt Mara; let’s hope we can find a cave up in these mountains.”

“What’s wrong? Don’t like the rain?”

I can’t help but laugh. “Not so much that, as I don’t want to drown while sleeping.”

Our travel is slower now; I am having to help her more often, lend her my strength, and even carry her over certain parts of the terrain. But at last we find a cave, somewhere we can be dry for at least a little while.

We enter, and go back far enough, and around a bend that any fire we have should not be visible from the cave’s entrance. I lay her down against the wall, and start looking around for some dead wood or something in the cave that could be used to start a fire. Finding enough debris, I bring it back to Mara and use her blaster to ignite it.

I quickly strip Aunt Mara of her clothes, laying them near the fire to dry and then do the same with mine. I get the thermal blanket from the pack on my belt and lay it on top of her. Noticing that it didn’t stop her shivers, I lie down next to her and pull her close to me, wrapping the blanket around us both. She sighs and snuggles deeper into my arms.

“Thanks Farmboy.”

I hear the words, but they don’t instantly translate, so I look down at her, and she lifts her face up and is kissing me. At first I’m too shocked to do anything, and then as she reaches up with one of her hands and drags my face even closer I find myself returning the kiss.

Enjoying the kiss.

Instantly I’m acutely aware of the feel of her flesh against mine, where earlier it had felt coarse and feverish, now it was soft and silky and emanating a different kind of heat.

Then she breaks the kiss and laying her head on my shoulder, her voice soft and scratchy. “Love you Farmboy.”

Then the only sound I can hear is the beating of my heart and her soft snores. As logic once more asserts itself in the place of lust and desire, I realize that in her feverish state she thought I was Uncle Luke, that for her, it wasn’t me she was kissing at all.

And then I note that she is still feverish, as her back arches from the pain of her coughs.

I quickly decide to not mention what happened to her, to not burden her with what we did this night, and sadly I wondered if I would ever have what Uncle Luke and Aunt Mara have. I wonder if I would ever have that kind of relationship, that kind of passionate joy that they seem to always have with one another, for one another.

I sigh and from somewhere in the back of my mind, I can see a flash of vibrant green eyes and hear Tahiri’s voice. Dummy.

Pleasure & Pain: Chapter Twelve

As I drop out of hyperspace, I shut down my Force presence and gaze at the planet. It has not changed since I was last here, I turn on my scanners, and they easily pick up another starship sitting on the planet's surface.

I land a short distance from the other starship, and can't help but smile as I recognize the tree cave.

I briefly entertain thoughts of going in there just to see what I would see, but quickly dispel them. After I complete my small task, I should have a bit of time to do so if I so wish.

I slip down from the X-Wing and begin looking around the area, trying to find their camp site, and not get seen while doing so.

I smile to myself as I find their campsite. They built in the same general location which Yoda's hut use to stand.

I crawl up into one of the spider trees downwind of their camp.

I see the blonde Jedi that is my target sitting in the middle of their camp. She is calmly meditating, unaware of the fate that my presence implied. Of the barabel and wookie, I see nothing.

So I sit there and watch her meditate. I watch and wait for the others to turn up.

After a while the wookie comes rambling up, bellowing a greeting in shryiwook. I smile as I recognize Lowbacca. If my Master had not demanded I not be seen, I would have enjoyed talking to him again.

I stay in my tree and continue waiting.

Finally my patience, which had been wearing thin, pays off. The barabel comes up from the swamps dragging the corpse of some animal. Again it is someone I recognize.

The blonde finally gets up from her position and the three of them begin cleaning and preparing the animal.

I slip out of my tree, and return to the X-Wing for a short nap and to eat one of my rations, confidant in the fact that they'd be awhile cleaning that carcass.

Night falls fast in the swamps, and soon it was fully dark. As it neared midnight I slipped out of my X-Wing and went back to their camp.

As I arrived, I smile as I realize that they are all asleep. I open myself to the Force ever so slightly, and place the wookie and barabel into an even deeper sleep. For the blonde, I send her my memories of killing the nexu, whisperkit, and the brunette.

I watch as she starts to twist and turn on her cot, and then suddenly sits up. Even from my spot in the spider tree I can see her chest heaving. I can feel her fear in the Force. With a smile, I revel in her fear.

I slip out of the tree once again, and beckon to her with the Force, heading towards the X-Wing, towards the tree cave.

I track her with the Force, feeling her fear and confusion as she silently slips through the swamps, coming to me.

As she enters the clearing I turn on the flood lamps of my X-Wing, creating a pool of light. I smile as she is effectively blinded now.

I hear her voice, it's raspy, sandy as she says, "Who's there?"

My answer is the snap-hiss of my lightsaber.

I jump into the pool of light, the lamps to my back.

I see the blonde take a step back and ignite her blue lightsaber.

I smile at the confusion in her voice as she once more asks, "Who are you?"

I lunge towards her, swinging my blade in a fast overhand attack. Her blade is there blocking me, and her foot kicks out catching me in the stomach.

I grab her foot and flip her over.

She lands in a crouch, her blade held ready for an attack.

I laugh.

Once more I can feel the blonde's confusion. I savor it, taste it. Her confusion feels as if she's trying to dredge up some old memory. I smile; her distraction will just make things easier.

I swing my saber and she catches it and pushes it to the side. I step into the first ring and slam my shoulder into her jaw.

I twist my saber sending hers flying.

I spin around, pull the Force to me and slam my fist into her jaw. She drops to the ground with a grunt and her pain blossoms in the Force.

Joy and despair war in my chest.

I kneel beside her and lift her head by her hair. I finally get a good look at her face and am dumbstruck.

I roll her over so I can look closer, and my confusion spirals out of control.

Everything from the shape of her jaw to the three scars of domain Kwaad. The face that is before me is Nethi's. The only difference is this Jedi is older and blonde.

I raise my blade to strike her, to cleave her, but I just shut it down. I sit down beside her and just stare.

As I sit there watching her, she finally starts to stir, coming to. Her eyes pops open, and Nethi's green eyes stare up into mine.

Oddly she is the one who gasps.

Then tears springs to her eyes. "Anakin? But you died. Oh! I've missed you so much! Where have you been? Why are you so young? Why did you attack me?"

I stare dumbfounded, as she springs up and throws her arms around me, not attacking, but hugging. Grasping me tightly to her. Clinging to me with her considerable strength.

I don't know what to do as she bursts out crying. So I reach out with the Force and put her to sleep.

I frown as I decide whether or not to remove the past thirty minutes worth of memories. Turning from her, I decide on leaving them intact.

Then not knowing what else to do, I get back into my X-Wing and begin my preparations to return to Kalkalar 6.

The Gallows

A wicked smile formed when her jailors were forced again to stop their progression in order to get their prisoner under control, but she would do anything to give the rescue party every opportunity possible to make their move before she reached the gallows. She closes her eyes as they roughly shove her back into position, and stretching out with the Force can feel her friends close by. She lets a hint of maliciousness flicker into her eyes, as she opens them. A quick prod from a blaster, starts her walking again.

In the distance she can see the gallows; they look old and wooden, a rope already swinging lightly in the morning breeze. She wonders for a second on the archaic style of the execution. Why would they hang her? Why not shoot her or poison her.

She stretches out with the Force again, and can feel her friends even closer than before. Looking at the guards around her, she reaches out, and with a quick flick of the Force, unlatches the stun cuffs. As they are falling, she grabs them, and swings them into the blue face of the nearest guard.

She laughs as he flies backward, and turns her attention to the next guard, as she starts stalking towards him, two more jump her from behind. A hard blow to the head stuns her enough so they can once more put the cuffs on her. Dragging her to her feet, they push her back into line, yelling something in their native tongue.

This time her smile is not quite as wicked, not quite as big. She reaches out with the Force, and is still able to feel her friends, they’re still advancing. She looks towards the ridgeline where she can feel them, but all she sees are trees and brush.

She sends a clear thought through the Force. What’s taking so long?

And frowns when no answer is forthcoming. Thinking back she wonders what possessed her to come back out here, why on earth would she willingly return to Chiss space.

Then she remembers the answer. Jagged.

She stretches out, and can still feel her friends out there. Can still feel them coming towards her. Then she sees them arrive. Not as a shining cavalry to rescue her, but as unconscious prisoners, carried on stretchers between two Chiss.

She sees Shawnkry walk up to her, a ghost of a smile visible on her lips. “Well, Jedi Solo, what do you have to say for yourself now?”

She smiles at Shawnkyr and once more releases the stun cuffs and slams them into her face, putting all her Force-enhanced strength behind it. As Shawnkry collapses, Jaina finds herself screaming. “That’s what I think about it, you cold-blooded, blue-skinned schutta!”

She screams, as the butt of a blaster rifle is slammed into her lower back. Dropping to her knees, she looks up at the sky, wondering if this is really how it is going to end.

Her Chiss guards do not put the stun cuffs on this time; just drag her back to her spot in the line. They stand her up, and when she once more collapses to her knees, they kick her.

Then she can feel a new presence in the Force. Looking towards the gallows, she smiles and stands up once more. Hope finding purchase in her heart once more. Maybe all is not lost; maybe this new Force presence is her to save her.

And at that moment she can feel a wailing in the Force. She stops as the realization that one of her friends is dead hits her. Then almost stumbles as the Chiss behind her pushes her with his blaster, urging her onward.

They continue their unending march towards the gallows, as she gets closer, she can see them taking someone down. Someone wearing a StealthX flight suit and with curly blonde hair.

Jaina can feel the tears as they start to fall. She had prayed it was anyone but Tahiri, even though she knew it was the entire time. Some part of her hopes that Tahiri now has the peace that she was missing in her life, that has been missing in all of their lives since Anakin was taken from them.

She now stands before the gallows, looking up at the rough wood and course rope. Stretching out with the Force, she can feel the Force user almost close enough to touch.

She starts going up the steps to the platform, slowly, methodically. She wonders for the first time, if this Force user will get here before she reaches the top.

Unfortunately it was not to be.

As they place her in the middle of the platform, one of her guards slips the noose over her head.

Then Jag walks up, and reads from a datapad. “For crimes against civilization and the Chiss Empire, Jedi Knight Jaina Solo has been sentenced to death by hanging.”

Pausing for a second, he looks at the datapad, and then continues. “For violations of the Treaty of Kr, Jedi Knight Jaina Solo has been sentenced to death by hanging.”

She watches him through her tear-filled eyes. He doesn’t look at her, he just continues reading. “And finally for throwing away my love, Jaina Solo has been sentenced to death by hanging.” He puts the datapad away into a pocket and looks at her for the first time since he came on the platform. “Does the condemned have any last words?”

“I’m sorry Jag, it was never supposed to be this way.”

She can see the fire as it flashes in his eyes. “Then you should never have sided with those stupid bugs over me.”

She calls out his name, as he turns from her and walks away.

Then with a blast in the Force, she watches as a new person lands on the platform in front of her. He throws back his hood, revealing her twin brother. She can’t help but call out his name, “Jacen!”

Hope at a rescue once more blossoms in her chest; salvation is here is what she thinks. Then she looks into his eyes, and realizes that is not the case. “Jace?”

“It is time to die little sister, you are not worthy of being a Solo or a Skywalker. Sword of the Jedi? Ha! More like the little butter knife of the Jedi. It will be better for everyone if you die here.” He grins at her, cold and malicious. “Oh, I’m afraid I was just too late to save you little sister, but don’t worry, Mom and Dad and Uncle Luke will mourn your passing.”

Jaina starts to cry as Jacen walks away without looking back at her.

She looks down as the platform drops out from beneath her.

And then sits upright in bed, a scream still echoing through her bed chambers, the fear of death and abandonment clinging tightly to her. She looks around her room, and sees her brother sitting up on one of the other beds, her fears, reflecting from him through their twin bond. In the final bed, is Anakin, still happily asleep, ignorant of the scream whose final echoes are just now fading.

A few moments later, her mother walks in, and sits on the bed beside her. Jaina feels dwarfed by her mother, and clings to her, sniffling. She can hear the soothing words and tones that her mother is saying, as the final dregs of the dream fade away.

Jaina looks up at her mother. “Momma? I don wanna be the sword of the Jedi okay?”

Leia looks at her daughter, and hugs her close, then kneeling beside the bed so she can look into her eyes, she catches her breath. Leia stares for a second, scared of the pain and deprivation that flashes through the eyes of her five year old child, before those eyes once more calm down into pools of darkness. She kisses Jaina’s forehead. “You can be anything you desire Jaya, but for now, it is time for bed.”

As Leia gets up and begins to walk from the room, she can hear her daughter speak once more. “I’m sorry momma.”

She turns back to Jaina, and can see the little girl is once more sitting up in her bed. “Whatever for baby?”

“I’m going to not like you and Anakin’s is going to Mrykr and he isn’t going to come back.”

Smiling she walks back to Jaina and kisses her forehead. “It’s just a dream, go back to sleep.”

She once more tucks Jaina in, and walks from the room, as she lies down in her own bed, she allows the memory of this night to slip from her mind.

Pleasure & Pain: Chapter Eleven

I feel a mental summons which I want to deny. I am happy and warm in the bed, luxuriating in the feel of the satin of the sheets, and the silk of Nethi's skin.

But the summons is from my Master, so I slip out of bed, gently kissing Nethi's forehead, and once more dress.

I exit my rooms, and feel the summons pulling me across the hall, so I enter the rooms across from my own.

I look around as I realize that these are Lumiya's chambers. They are decorated in reds and black, I glimpse Lumiya in a corner sitting at a large black desk. I look directly at her, and notice the power she seems to exude.

I notice that she is not in her customary shift, but rather a long black robe, clasped at the waist. The desk doesn't have a front, and I can see her long legs as she crosses them, hear the whisper of her robe as it slides off of her legs.

I walk over and kneel before her, then raise my head to look into her eyes. "Milady."

She smiles at me, causing my heart to jump. "Rise my friend."

I stand, and notice that she is playing with the edge of her robe. The movement draws my eyes, and I focus on her hands.

I frown slightly. There was something off with her hands, as if I was expecting there to be something there that wasn't. As if she was supposed to be wearing a ring.

I give my head a slight shake, and focus on her voice, her lips.

"You are to leave for Dagobah, and kill this Jedi for me."

She turns on a hand-held hologram and it is a somewhat blurry image of a young blonde. I look close, the image is really blurry, but the girl appears to be in her mid to late twenties.

"Finding her will not be hard; she will be the only human on Dagobah. There are two other Jedi there, one a wookie the other a barabel. Do not let them see you or know that you are there."

I bow my head. "It will be as you command Milady."

I can feel her pleasure in the Force. "I take it you have been enjoying my first present for you."

I can feel a blush start to color my cheeks. "Yes, Milady."

"Good, user her as you will, she is yours. But I do have another present for you."

I look at her, and she holds out a lightsaber to me. I grasp it and instantly like the design. It is silver and black, with a small d-ring on the side. I activate it and a red blade shoots out.

Smiling I shut down the saber. "Thank you."

Lumiya stands and walks over to me, leans close to me and kisses me. Her smile sends shivers down my spine; her sultry voice gives me goose bumps. "Please don't let me down, serve me, so I can bring you more and more pleasure."

She caresses my cheek and then returns to her desk.

"Now go to your task."

I turn and leave the room.

My first stop is my chambers. Nethi is still where I left her, tangled in the sheets. I smile at the simplicity of her posture, the innocence she exudes while sleeping.

I get my holster and blaster, attach my saber to my belt, and compose a note for Nethi, to let her know that I'm going on a short mission.

I stand and watch her for a moment, my mind flashing back over the past few hours, the time we shared in the bath and in the bed. I have a strong desire to just crawl back into the bed with her, and pull the blankets over my head and hide. Then I feel my Master's impatience, and desire that I should be on my way.

A fleeting memory of pain slides through my body at the thought of her disappointment.

Sighing, I turn from Nethi and leave the room once more.

I go to the armory and get the few things I think I will need for my mission, a couple of spare power packs for the blaster, two or three class-a thermal detonators and a couple of ration packs.

As I walk to the hanger, I realize that I am whistling, happy, eager to complete my task and return to Nethi.

If it wasn't for that dark empty hole where my hopes and dreams used to be, I'd be complete.

I smile as I see a lone X-Wing sitting in the hanger, waiting for me.

I launch glorifying in the feel of flight, the feel of an x-wing. I twist and turn, reveling in the simple pleasure, the feel of understated power which a snub fighter gives.

I laugh at the near ecstasy which flight imparts.

I feel Lumiya's urging once more, and put the fighter on the proper trajectory for Dagobah.

A quick pull of the hyperspace levers and I am off. On my way to Dagobah, still whistling.

Pleasure & Pain: Chapter Ten

I awake on the large bed, naked and alone. I feel empty without the pain the robe provided.

I sit up and look around once more, noticing details that I had been too distracted to pay attention to previously.

Little things such as the marble desk and small food prep station, the style and coloring of the other furniture. Even the color and texture of the sheets. It all gives me a strange feeling of having been here before.

It feels like someone rummaged through my head, and found all the details I would want in the perfect room, and then made it for me here.

I swing my legs out of the bed, and there kneeling before me is Nethi. Her legs tucked under her, her head bowed.

I smile at the sight of her, and can feel my desire for her. "Nethi! I have missed you."

"How may I be of service to you Milord?"

As she says these words I feel a surge of lust flow through me, yet of more immediate concern to me is the fact that she refuses to look at me. "Nethi, why won't you look at me?"

In the Force, I can feel the sorrow coming off of her now. "It is not proper for a sl-slave to look upon her Master without leave."

I push down the feelings of power, control and dominance those words invoke in me. "Slave?"

"Yes, Lady Lumiya has g-given me to you, to do with as you wish, t-t-to do as you wish."

"Nethi, look at me please."

She raises her head at my bidding, and I am once more mesmerized by her eyes, that shade of green sings to me. I see the unshed tears in her eyes, and can feel her fear and sadness in the Force.

A large part of me revels in that fear.

I look at her, and place my hand on the side of her face. She leans into my hand, her eyes closing, and a look of peace crossing her features.

"Can we please not change our relationship? Can we pretend I'm still in the other room, and you're the pretty girl that comes and takes care of me?"

She opens her eyes, and those unshed tears, threaten to fall. "Okay."

I notice her lip is trembling. I slip out of the bed and slide to the floor and kiss her, hold her.

Then the threatened tears do start to flow.

I hold her as she cries the tears out, and falls asleep in my arms.

I pick her up and lay her on the bed, and go to the wardrobe. Opening it, I find about a dozen outfits. All black, all cut along military lines, tunic, pants, and boots. I sigh slightly, as I was hoping for my robe or one like it.

I quickly dress, and find a holster and belt. I slip those on as well, and open a drawer to find a blaster.

I frown slightly at the wardrobe. I frown not because something is missing, but because everything in it is placed in what I would consider a natural position. As if I had put away everything.

I close the doors to the wardrobe with a frown on my face, and hear a rustle from the direction of the bed.

I turn, and Nethi is sitting up, looking abashed. "I'm sorry I lost control like that."

I give her a smile, wondering if someone had been giving her lessons in basic. Her Vong accent, they way they use odd or arcane words and syntax, seemed less pronounced as she spoke that time.

I shake my head to clear my thoughts and focus on what she's saying. "Milord, please get undressed again; Lady Lumiya made it clear you should bathe prior to your next audience with her. I'll go draw your bath."

As she finishes talking, she slips off the bed and rushes into the refresher and I can hear the bath being drawn.

I realize I'm smiling and it takes me a second to figure out why.

I could see her toes.

I strip as I walk to the refresher, and catch sight of myself in a floor to ceiling mirror. I can understand now why Lumiya demanded I take a bath. Looking closer at my reflection I realize that I am about the same age as when I died at Mrykr, maybe two or three years older. I give my reflection a smirk and turn towards the tub, but see it still empty.

I continue my turn, and see Nethi standing next to a second, larger, sunken tub, more of a hutt bath than anything else. Yet it is not the tub that has my attention.

As I watch her, she releases her shift, and I watch as it slips down her body. I just admire her trim, athletic figure, and notice that she has very few scars; in fact the most prominent ones are the three on her forehead marking her as domain Kwaad.

She slips into the water and holds out her hand. "Come, it is time for your bath."

I take her hand, and slip into the water after her. I walk over to her, and taking her other hand, wrap my arms around her, pinning her arms behind her. She looks up at me, her green eyes holding a confused, expectant expression as I claim her lips.

As I claim her.

All thoughts of bathing are banished from my mind.

HRD

“It's been said that the moment you are born you also begin to die and that as the tick tock of death's chrono is activated, it counts down to the moment one will return to wherever their beliefs teach with the how, when, where and why to be determined somewhere along life's path. Unless you become an ASRD produced by ODT. ODT’s All-Species Replica Droid, mixed with Ssi-Ruuvi entechment technology allows anyone with the credits to spend to have a perfect, indestructible body. The process is painless, and the rewards-“.

Jaina turns off the holocom with a frown. She remembers ODT, and the mess it created on Bakura so long ago during the Vong War. It is one of her many regrets not being able to find them after they escaped her. She frowns as she realizes that she cannot even recall which planet it was on.

She sighs as she settles on the couch, bending over to pick up the piece of flimsiplast that had been delivered earlier in the week.

Master Solo-Fel, it is with great regrets that I must inform you of the loss of your daughter. As far as we can tell, Lieutenant Padme Cherith Fel was shot down during operations against the Calivarhu Pirates. She was a valued member of the squadron and she will be missed.

Yours,
Commander Thesis Hirstu, Rogue Squadron

She still feels the stab of pain at the one hundredth reading as she did at the first.

She knows from the experience of reading a similar letter regarding her beloved Jag, that the thousandth read will hurt just as much as that first read did.

She puts the letter back on the table and looks at herself in the mirror. The years have been kind to her, but they are still there. Her hair is still thick, though it is more grey than brown, and every year more and more lines and wrinkles appear on her face. She smiles as she remembers that Jag called them “laugh lines.”

Startled out of her reverie by a sudden knock on her down, she walks over to it, and upon opening the door gasps.

There before her is someone that she had not seen in early fifty years. Not since she was eighteen. She looks him over; his body still appears the same, dark hair, tanned, chiseled features. Her eyes narrows, at the HRD in front of her, not entirely surprised that he still appears a mere thirty years old.

His smile appears genuine; his Force presence tells her that he is happy to see her. “Ah, Knight Solo, I’m so happy that you’ve not tried to skewer me on your saber this time.”

“What do you want Stanton?”

“Oh you remember me! Then surely you remember my offer?”

“Go away Stanton.”

“But think about it Knight Solo, if you and your daughter were HRD’s then she would not be dead. Her indestructible body would not have been subject to the whimsies of explosive decompression.”

Jaina’s hand slides slowly down to her saber, caressing it. She considers what he is saying. For he is right, if her daughter had been an HRD then she would not have died during that particular space battle.

Stanton continues talking. “And think of this as well, we could give you your youth back. You’re old now Jaina, grey and wrinkled. I still remember you when you came to see me all those years ago. Your beautiful brown hair, flawless and impeccable skin, you were nearly a perfect specimen of the human female. Now look at you.”

Jaina never considered herself vain, but she once more recognizes the subtle truth, wrapped though it is in ego-twisting vanities, of what he is saying. Though she was never concerned with her beauty when she was eighteen, now at sixty-eight she wishes for some of it back.

But as they say, one can never go back.

Except she realizes that that is exactly what Stanton is here offering. Her beauty back, her youth back.

With the realization that he hadn’t said anything in the past few minutes, she once more focuses on Stantion, who is still standing there smiling at her. “Oh I’m sorry Stanton, are you still here?”

He smiles at her once more. “I made you an offer once before, immortality, eternal youth and beauty. You turned me down, and I told you that I would come back one day and make that offer to you again. So Jaina, what do you say? Now that you are old, and you can see me, still here in the prime of life, how does immortality sound to you now?”

Jaina sits back down on the couch, thinking considering. She is not entirely comfortable thinking about things. That was always the province of her brother. But this offer makes her do so. Mainly because what he offers is so tempting, so tantalizing.

To be young again.

To be young forever.

And then the downside hits her.

She would be young again, and she would be young forever. Never to know death, never to be reunited in the Force with Jag and Padme.

That she cannot abide. For death is the last, great adventure she has. And she wants to take that step. To be with Jag as they travel the misty domain of death together.

To take this step, to accept his offer means never being able to.

And this she cannot accept.

She looks at Stanton, her hand once more caressing her saber. “I’m sorry Stanton, but you have nothing to offer me. Leave now, while you still have the chance.”

Stanton takes a step towards her, his hand held out, his look pleading.

Then with a flash of her hand and the Force, her lightsaber blade is sticking out from his head. She calls her saber back to her hand as he falls to the ground with a crash.

Jaina looks at his still form a small smile appearing on her lips. “There, one less regret.”

Weak

There was only one man who could drive her to hours of ritual female transformation but when he gave her that smile that made her knees weak, she knew that every moment had been worth it. For hours she was there, applying make up, and attempting to make her red hair behave the way his sister’s always seemed to. Mara Jade was trying her best to look good for Skywalker, for her farmboy.

Occasionaly Leia or Mirax would stop by to check on her, but she usually swiftly rushes them back from the room. She wants this time alone. She needs this time alone.

She uses a small cloth tissue to dab at her eyes, to keep her tears from ruining the makeup she had worked so hard to apply.

Then she stands and looks into the body-length mirror as it stands in a corner. She has to admire the ottegaten silk gown she is dressed in, and she hopes that he would like it. With a quick nod of her head, she spins from the mirror and picks up her veil. She slowly lowers it over her face, so that it covers her eyes. She nods her head again. This is good for her, now if she cries, no one will be able to see.

She wants no one to see her weakness. She refuses to be weak.

She looks once more into the mirror, and is barely able to catch the flash of green through the veil. More telling is the contrast between the veil and her hair. She thinks it amazing. The contrast focuses her attention on what she’s doing here, and she feels the worries and doubts.

She pushes those away, she refuses to trust her emotions, refuses to feel them right now.

She refuses to be weak.

There is a quick knock on the door, and an attendant sticks her head in and says “It’s time.”

Mara doesn’t trust her voice, and only nods in acceptance. She follows the aide out, and stops outside of the hall. She can hear the music within, the soft sounds, the soothing tones.

It seems so incongruous, but she knows that Luke picked the music himself.

She can hear the gentle voices of their family and friends. Again they are soft sounds and soothing tones. It is almost enough to bring back her tears, her emotions, but she pushes them down and away, intent upon being strong.

She refuses to be weak.

Then she enters the hall, and sees him up at the front, on the slight stage. His sandy blonde hair, his face serene, composed.

It is enough to make her cry.

She walks down the center aisle, towards Luke. All those that the two of them know surround her, watch her. She feels as if they are there to see if she will break, to see if she’ll cry.

She refuses to be weak.

She keeps her pace slow and steady. Afraid that if she goes faster she will either run to him on that stage, or flee the room altogether.

Finally she is there at the stage, looking at him, seeing the slight smile that touches his lips. It is as it always was when he was trying to hide a gift he bought for her, a small quirk that tugs back just one side of his lips. The right side of his lips.

Then she cries. She lets loose the grief and pain that have been hounding her since his death. She leans down into his casket, and presses her face against his one last time, wishing that she could feel some warmth, some response in his cold flesh.

She sinks to her knees, letting the tears flow. Realizing just how much she will miss her Farmboy, just how much she depended on him. She cries in front of their family and friends, not caring if any of them see her as weak. Not caring what they think.

She feels hands on her shoulders, and looks to see Ben’s face near her own, his whispers, “Can you stand mom?”

She nods, her tears still flowing, as he helps her up and leads her to her seat in the front row. He sits down beside her, and wraps his arm around her holding her. She is glad for the warmth and comfort.

She quickly glances up at Corran Horn as he stands at a small lectern off to the left of Luke’s casket, and begins the simple service. “We are gathered here to celebrate a great man, a loving father, a devoted husband, a Jedi Master, and friend to any who would accept that friendship.”

Mara tunes Corran out, focusing on herself, on how much she will miss him and everything about him.

Finally the service is over, and all have gone to the next room for refreshments. As Corran walks past her, he places his hand on her shoulder and gives a gentle squeeze and then walks away without saying a word.

Ben leans over and kisses her cheek and then leaves as well. Leaves her alone with him.

She stands and walks to the casket and ruffles his hair slightly, giving it that wind-blown look he seemed to always have. She takes off her veil and gives him a final kiss, and is startled by how raw her voice sounds. “I’m going to miss you, Farmboy. I love you.”

She turns, her head held high, her tears flowing freely, her grief and pain clearly evident on her tear-stained face. She walks down the aisle to join her friends and family in celebrating his life.

For she refuses to be weak.

Pleasure & Pain: Chapter Nine

I wait, but Nethi does not come to see me. I wonder about that, and it makes me sad. I enjoy her visits; enjoy the sight of her toes.

I wonder if she somehow found out the contents of those dreams of mine that she is featured in. I wonder if she did find out, if they would scare her or excite her.

I feel the lessening of the pain and in walks Lumiya. Her smile is gone this time, she appears tired and haggard. Like her sorrow has beaten her, and left this shell in her place. "Please Anakin, today is your final chance. Serve me, please?"

"I, I will not kill Neth…Tahiri."

I silently curse myself at my own confusion.

She sighs, and leans against a control panel. "This is the final small task I have. After you complete this task, then you must make a decision on serving me and getting released from this pain, getting Nethi, or not serving me, and rotting here, in pain, never to see Nethi again."

I bark a laugh. "What am I to kill today Lumiya?"

She releases me from the repulser, and I stand. I miss that feeling of wholeness that I used to get when I stood.

She presses a button on the panel beside her. "Today, kill as you desire, stop the heart, chocking, lightning, even rip it apart with the Force. It matters not."

As soon as she finishes talking, the doors open and in walk two of her guards. They are carrying a young human female, not a girl, but not yet an adult, around my age, with brunette hair and blue eyes. She's pretty, in a girl next door type of way. I can feel her terror in the Force. It fills me, sustains me for what I know I am about to do.

Yet I still hesitate. Lumiya's voice is harsh, compelling, demanding. "Kill her, kill her now."

As Lumiya announces her fate, the girl starts to scream and kick. She attempts to get away from the guards. Yet their grips on her arms hold her there. And the two guards finally subdue her, one of them holding her head up so that she is forced to watch me.

I look to Lumiya as she stands on the other side of the room from me. I can feel the sorrow well up from my heart. "Who is she? What has she done to deserve death?"

"It matters not who she is, as for death, it comes to us all. Now, kill her."

I close my eyes and gather to the Force to me. "Open your eyes and watch."

I sigh and open my eyes back up, and find myself staring into the girl's terror-filled ones. I can hear her whispered plea. "Please don't kill me."

For a moment, I watch as the tears slide down her cheeks.

I press my lips together tightly and stretch out my arm. I feel my hate gather at my fingertips. Not hate for this innocent girl, and the Force screams at me her innocence, but hate for myself, hate for what I have done, for what I am about to do, and hate for what I have become. I gather my hate and I let it fly.

I notice that I am crying, but the tears have as much of an effect on me as the girl's screams for mercy. I just send wave after wave of Force Lightning at her, until she stops moving.

Until her presence in the Force is gone.

I do not stop. I feel the anger and hate, as I turn the lightning on the two guards as well. I smile coldly as they drop limply to the ground, the burns from my lightning adding odd blackened marks to their armor.

I turn to Lumiya and feel a surge of desire and power as she smiles at me.

"Will you serve me? Do as I command? Will you accept my gift of Nethi?"

I hesitate as I open my mouth. The mantra is on the tip of my tongue, an automatic response, but I stop it.

I push down that deep part of my mind which is screaming at me to not give in, bury it under my anger and hate, and lock gazes with Lumiya.

"Yes, yes I will serve you."

"Kneel. Do you swear allegiance to me, to your new Master?"

I kneel before her, silently wondering if having me in this position before her gives her that same sense of power that having Nethi kneeling before me gives me. "Yes Milady."

"Rise, Darth Rachat."

I look at her, and she smiles and starts walking from the room. I stand and watch her. She pauses in the doorway, and looks over her shoulder at me. "Are you coming?"

I smile sheepishly and start following her.

She gives me a brief tour of the facilities. She shows me the armory, the brig and cafeteria. We walk pass one door, which appears older than the rest of the facility and I ask about it. She merely says that I should never go down that hall, and we continue our tour.

We finally arrived at a portion of the building that appeared to be used less than the others. "These are your chambers."

She pushes open the doors and I glimpse an exquisitely appointed room. Something my mom would love. I see the large bed, and glimpse a tub in the 'fresher.

I feel the large smile on my face and turn to my Mistress. "Thank you."

She looks my way, and runs her hand down my cheek; I notice that it still leaves a trail of fire where she touches me. "I promised you relief from the pain if you served me."

She walks into the rooms, and looks at me, a smile on her face.

I walk in after her, walk to her.

She leans in close, her lips brushing mine. "Thank you Lord Rachat."

Then she kisses me, and I'm enthralled in her motions.

Two Sides of the Same Coin

In the end it didn't matter because even after everything they'd been through, he was still sure that he would have to kill her. Absently he wondered if she would continue sending her guards out to him to die in her stead. As he sliced down the last one in this wave he yells up at the crystal face of the building before him, “I have come for her!”

He stalks to the main entry, and plunges his saber into the locking mechanism before him. Holding it pushed in as the durasteel bubbles and melts around his saber. He slowly begins moving the blade in a circular fashion, enlarging the cut, until the entire lock system falls out of the door, and he is able to simply push it open.

He sighs to himself as there is yet another selection of guards before him, firing their ineffectual blasters at him. Almost tiredly he bats them bat at the guards. Always killing, never going for a simple disable response. Once more he is yelling, “How many are you going to send to their deaths?”

He almost misses her reply, her voice so soft, so filled with the pain of his swath of destruction. “Leave this place and never return. There is nothing here for you.”

“There is my daughter! She is mine, and I will have her!”

Anger flashes like lightning in her grey eyes. “You have spent her entire life debasing the memories of her grandparents, ignoring her, and mocking everything I spent my life standing for. You will not have her.”

He laughs at her. “Oh?”

“This is a fact.”

She pulls a rancor’s tooth from her belt and a lightsaber blade shoots forth from it.

She slips towards him, her blade held in a loose grip, her stance ready. She is every inch the warrior queen she was raised to be.

Their blades meet with a crackle of energy, with the soul shattering sound of hopes and dreams being dashed and sundered.

They are fairly well evenly matched. He is stronger, but she more experienced.

They are two sides of the same coin.

Male and female.

Mother and Father.

Light and Dark.

One broken in body, the other broken in spirit.

Once upon a time, they were young and in love, back before the war, before her coronation, before life became so twisted and dark.

Now, they are both bitter and heartbroken. Bitter at the life that fate has given them. Heartbroken at the loss of that love, at the loss of their innocence.

All they have left is the fight, the reward of which is the soul of an innocent five year old girl.

They twist and twirl, their sabers flashing. Neither able to get in that killing blow, ultimately neither entirely certain that they want to.

They part both slightly winded from their exertions. He sadly looks at her. “Why does it have to be this way?”

Her look is even sadder. “You go to a dark place Jacen. One that I cannot allow you to take Allana.”

“I do this to protect her!”

“She does not need protection, she needs love and acceptance. What you offer is merely pain and fear.”

He pulls his saber back into a high guard. “You don’t understand.”

She lifts hers into a matching guard. “What is there to understand?”

“There is no Dark Side!”

“Then why are you trying to kill the mother of your child?”

Once more he rushes into battle, allowing his frustration and anger to power his blows; while she is driven by a calm acceptance, centered in the knowledge that she defends her daughter.

Still their skills are evenly matched; the unstoppable force has met the unmovable object.

And as is so often the case in these scenarios, it is the introduction of a third player which changes the dynamic.

Each is so focused on the other; on winning this battle of ideologies that both fail to notice the arrival of the ultimate trump card.

An innocent five year old little girl. She watches the battle, her red hair pulled back into a simple braid, her brandy eyes wide at the complex chorography of her parent’s duel.

“Mama?”

Her voice cutting through the sounds of lightsabers in combat is enough to distract her mother. The unmovable object just moved.

As Jacen knocks the saber from Tenel Ka’s hand, and places his blade at her throat. A clear gasp is heard. Jacen finally realizes that they have an audience as she says in her clear child voice, “Papa, are you goin’ to hurt Mama?”

Jacen feels a tear escape from his eye as he looks from Tenel Ka up to his daughter. He can see the fear and confusion on her face. He can feel the sheer terror the girl feels at the thought of her mother being hurt.

He turns his attention back to Tenel Ka. “Yes, yes I am.”

Pleasure & Pain: Chapter Eight

Sometimes I wonder if Lumiya is playing with my perception of time. Occasionally it seems as if the visits from her or Nethi are right on the heels of one another and at other times I feel like days or weeks have passed.

In the end, I decide it doesn't matter. I have my pain, and the visits by them.

I feel the robe begin the pain lessening which indicates one of them is approaching. If my memory serves, it should be Lumiya.

And it is.

She is once more in a shift, but this time, it is undone all way to her navel. Her skin glistens with water, and her hair is still wet, as if she had just gotten out of the shower. The swell of her breasts is obvious and they are covered even less than usual.

I wonder if everything she is doing is designed to drive me mad with lust or to distraction with frustration.

Either way, it works.

She steps up close, the bare skin of her breast there before me; she pulls back my head by my hair, her smile is aggressive, sexy.

"Please Anakin, serve me. I need you to stop this pain for me. I suffer so."

Absently, I wonder when she got so good at pushing my buttons, at saying things that I respond to.

Regardless, I repeat my mantra. "I will not kill Tahiri."

My restraints reveal a new function, rather than an electrical shock, they burn. I hiss at the difference.

"I guess there are still a few more small tasks that you can do for me. But I will soon run out, and then you will face the choice of serving me, or to remain in this room, in those restraints until you die. Please Anakin; I don't want that to happen to you. I need you too much."

I brace myself for the pain. "I will not kill Tahiri."

She sighs, as the pain lessens. "Okay, I have this small troublesome task for you. But a couple of differences, today, no heart stopping, and no lightning."

I frown, and she smiles at me, like a child just given a new toy.

Then she turns and walks from the room. Moments later, she returns once more followed by two guards. This time they are escorting what I clearly recognize as a rodian.

As they get closer, I see the glassy eyes, and coral implants of a Vong slave.

The repulser releases me, and I stand. I look at the rodian, and feel my heart sink even further than it already had. "You want me to kill him?"

Lumiya is once again behind me, I can feel the heat of her skin on my back. "Yes. He is merely a slave, he will be better off dead. Can you not feel the pain the coral implants cause him, how it frays his very life essence. End his suffering."

I look at him in the Force, and see the fraying she is talking about. I hear someone asking "How?"

As Lumiya whispers in my ear, I realize that it was me that had asked. "Use the Force to choke him. Reach out and close his windpipe. Crush his throat until he is released from his suffering."

I reach out and grasp the rodian's throat with the Force. I can see the glassiness disappear from his eyes. I can feel his fear in the Force. I can hear him attempt to speak.

I absently realize that I'm crying.

Then I feel Lumiya's lips against my neck, and I smile. The realization that I am releasing this poor soul from slavery fills me. I can feel my anger at the Vong, at this Rodian for not fighting to the death. I want to kill him because he gave in. I press with the Force harder, strangling him, as Lumiya continues to nibble on my neck.

I release the Force and he falls to the ground dead. I feel the satisfaction of his release and the tears on my face.

Once more I hear someone else speaking. "I am damned."

Once more I realize that it was me.

Then Lumiya is holding me, whispering that everything is okay, that if I serve her the pain will be over, that I can posses Nethi, even as she is kissing my face and neck.

Part of me wants to give in; to take what she is offering, to stop the pain, to have Nethi for my own. I find it hard to think of the reason I shouldn't. I open my mouth to agree, to give in.

Instead I say "I will not kill Tahiri."

My restraints deliver my punishment for defiance.

Lumiya grabs me by the arm, and drags me back over to the repulser and places me once more within it.

She looks at me; everything about her screams danger, everything about her excites me. "I grow weary of giving you chances. Anakin, soon you will no longer have the option to serve me."

She turns from me, and picks up the rodian, and drops him in front of me, so that when I recline naturally, I am staring into his dead eyes.

Lumiya walks away from me and the pain spirals up from my heart, outshining what the robe provides.

I feel my tears, and watch the eyes of the dead rodian.

The Captain's Handmaiden

I look down at her frail broken form, and can feel the anguish well up within me. I can see my Queen, my Senator, kneeling beside her, and feel my anguish mirrored in the words that she whispers to the broken body of my love.

I can hear her call my love’s name as she hugs the now dead body close to her; the tears she is crying are the same as the ones I want to be crying. The body she holds the one I want to hold. But I have my duty. My beloved would want me to carry it out, just as she carried out hers.

For a second, I just watch Padmé cry over Cordé, and let my mind wonder as I remembered our last night together on Naboo. That happy dinner we shared, where we both imbibed a little too much wine with the kommerkan steak. I can still remember the taste of the sweet fruit she had for desert, the taste that still lingered on her lips as I kissed her.

Shaking my head slightly, I bring my focus back to the present, back to the burned and bloodied body of my beloved.

I lightly lay my hand on the Senator’s shoulder. I keep tight control over my emotions, trying to project a sense of urgency into my voice as I say, “M’Lady, you are still in danger!”

My voice, my words, sound so harsh and cold to my ears, I want to wail with grief and scream my anger at the stars and fate, yet I know to do so would be to betray my duty.

I hear the Senator’s voice, it sounds so much like my beloved’s. “I shouldn’t have come back.”

I can feel the pain and sorrow well up within my broken and battered heart. I cannot believe the selfishness of the girl in front of me. After all, there in front of her lies the girl I desired to spend my life with, bloodied and broken, dieing in service to this child-senator, whose final words were not declarations of love for me, but were voicing her sorrow and perceived failure of keeping the Senator alive.

Once more I just want to weep and hold my beloved, but I stand firm in my duty. I look into Padmé’s eyes, but all I see are the eyes which stared so lovingly at me just a fortnight ago. Cordé’s eyes.

Once more I clamp down on my grief and sorrow. I substitute my pain with my duty. “This vote is very important.”

I pray that it is. Yet part of me tells me that Cordé sacrificed her life for nothing. That we came all this way, that I lost so much in that fiery explosion, and it will all be for naught. I can feel my sorrow and pain once more threaten to overwhelm me, once more threaten to reduce me to a crying, sobbing mess here on this burning platform.

So I once more push my pain and anguish beneath my duty. “You did your duty Senator, and Cordé did hers. Now come.”

Just saying her name aloud nearly broke me. Part of me wants to slap this child senator, who stands here trying her best to make the sacrifice of my beloved pointless and for naught.

I grab her shoulder, intent on removing her physically from the platform. Yet she is surprisingly stubborn and twists from my grasp. She stares down at my beloved, as if she alone can understand the deep wrenching feelings of loss and pain that Cordé’s death cause.

I am reduced to begging for this child to not make Cordé’s sacrifice in vain.”Senator Amidala! Please!”

Finally Padmé looks at me. In her eyes, I can see the stubbornness that was the hallmark of her career as queen. The defiant tilt of the chin I can see that firm belief that everything she does is right and just.

My earlier desire to slap her is multiplied. She has no true knowledge of pain and suffering such as I am going through as the body of my beloved cools at our feet. She cares nothing for the sacrifice, or what that sacrifice means to me. She thinks only of herself and her minor pain.

To break her from those selfish thoughts, I speak to her, more of my mind than I ever have before. I let a small token of my pain and overwhelming grief enter my voice. “Would you so diminish Cordé’s death as to stand here and risk your own life? What good will her sacrifice be if -”

I feel disgust at her mockery of my pain as she interrupts me. “Enough, Captain.”

I motion to Dolphe that we are about to move, and can feel the misery and pain as I am forced to leave her lovely body sitting there amidst the burning wreckage.

I curse my duty and hers. For all the pain it has caused us. Tears once more threaten to fall as I remember our first date; I took her to a small greasy dinner which was incongruous amidst the swank shops of the Coruscant street. It was manned by a couple droids and a four-armed besalik cook. We spent hours there talking about our dreams, and hopes. We spent hours there laughing. We found the start of our future there.

Now that is gone. There are no dreams, no hopes, and no more laughter. I have my anguish and my grief, and Cordé is laid to rest among the blackened shrapnel of a starship.

I push my pain and misery, the cold-biting knowledge that I now have no future, no love, no life and no happiness from my mind. I subsume my emotions, except that clarion call of duty.

Yet my mind rebels, and presents more memories of the happy times I had with Cordé on that last night. I remember presenting Cordé with the small token which requests her hand in marriage. This was to be our last mission with the Senator. We were both going to retire and raise a pack of children in the Lake Country. We were going to do this together.

Now that dream is lost, as are my hopes and desires. All I have is my duty. Given a new meaning, a new role, my duty is no longer to protect the Senator; I cannot see myself protecting that selfish child with the devotion that both Cordé and I showed while Cordé was alive. No, now that my beloved is dead and cold, my duty is that I not allow my beloved’s sacrifice to be in vain.

We start to move out, and I can feel a single tear slide from my real eye.

Pleasure & Pain: Chapter Seven

I hang there in the pain, and try to figure out the emptiness within me. Why do I feel so dark, so dirty?

I remembered how hollow my last words to Lumiya were, so I say them again. “I will not kill Tahiri.”

I try to remember what Tahiri looks like, the sound of her voice. I can remember her golden hair, and green eyes. Why do all these girls have green eyes? I try to remember how Sannah’s yellow ones look, or Tionne’s silver ones, but all I see are green, the shade of Nethi’s eyes.

I remember the three vertical scars on Tahiri’s forehead, the sign of her shaping, of Domain Kwaad, which takes my thoughts back to Nethi.

And thoughts of Nethi remind me of how she looked kneeling in front of me. Her head lowered her demeanor coy. I can see how she kneels in front of me, everything about her screaming both innocence and depravity.

Frowning, I yank my thoughts back to Tahiri. I try to remember the sound of her voice, but I still can’t. I randomly remember that she doesn’t wear shoes, that she considered them a torture for our toes.

Thoughts of toes, remind me of how Nethi wiggled hers the day I asked to see them. That particular brand of innocence she exuded while she wiggled her toes, that innocent air that inflamed me so.

I say my mantra again. “I will not kill Tahiri.”

It still sounds hollow, fake. I think it might have something to do with the fact that Tahiri has no meaning for me any longer. There is only Lumiya and Nethi.

For some odd reason, that particular thought evokes both despair and happiness in me.

“I will not kill Nethi.”

That sounds right. That has meaning.

“I will not kill Tahiri.”

Still nothing, but I know that it should have meaning. I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that I should never entertain thoughts of killing Tahiri.

The concept of shadows brings me back to Nethi and her hair.

I sigh as I can feel the pain from my robe lessen, and I wonder if Nethi is going to bring me a meal of Yuuzhan Vong.

I frown at the heartlessness of that thought. I remember a time when I cared more than that.

I dispel my concerns as the door opens, and Nethi walks in. I smile as she is once more barefoot. I drink up her appearance in the simple shift. I am enamored at her air of naughty-innocence. My mood lifts at the thoughts it invokes.

I watch as she kneels before me and begins the task of cutting my food.

“Yuuzhan Vong warrior is not on today’s menu is it?”

She looks up at me, a look of shock on her face. “No! It is merely a nerf steak.”

I continue to watch as she cuts the meat, and wonder if I should be glad or not.

She begins to lower me to the point where she can feed me. “Can you lower me all the way to the ground today?”

She hesitates.

I continue. “And then share my meal with me?”

She gives a small bow of her head, hiding the smile I can feel is there. “As you wish.”

She lowers me to the ground, and I sit in front of her cross-legged, a large silly grin on my face.

After we shared the meal, I continue watching her for a moment. “Tell me about your past.”

She lowers her head. “I do not remember much. I remember growing in a crèche on a worldship. I remember being on Yavin 4 during the shaper fiasco there. My domain lost a lot during that, at the hands of she-who-was-shaped. I remember dreams of twin suns. But most of my memories are of Lumiya and serving her here. I do as she bids.”

As she finished talking, her mouth has formed a small half-smile. She raises her head and captures my gaze once more. “Tell me of yours.”

So I do. I tell her of growing up on Coruscant and Yavin, of my Jedi training, of my time on Dathomir with Aunt Mara. Then I tell her of that fatal mission to Myrkr.

For some reason, I don’t tell her about the kiss Tahiri and I shared on that space station.

As I finish the story, she picks up my plate and stands. I stand in front of her. Once more her manner is coy, her head bowed slightly. I can’t decide if her subservience frustrates or excites me. I force myself to focus on her words. “I must go; I have other duties to attend to.”

Part of me does not want her to go. Yet there is another part of me screaming for her to do so, it wants the pain to come back.

So, I do what I feel I should. I grab her face and kiss her.

It’s only the second time that I have kissed her, but it feels so right, so perfect.

She drops the plate she is holding, and presses herself against me. She is as lost in the moment as I. My hand slide down her body away from her face and encircles her, drawing her ever closer to me.

I pull away from the kiss, and look down at her. I had never noticed that I was taller than her, but it seems fitting, appropriate somehow. Her breathing is heavy, her eyes closed, her lips parted slightly. She is instinctively leaning up to me.

I can’t resist. I have to kiss her again. So I do.

Then I can feel the burn of Force Lightning covering my body, coating our bodies.

I can hear my screams, intermingled with Nethi’s.

Then the lightning stops and Lumiya lifts me effortlessly and flings me back into the repulser. She turns to Nethi and snarls. “Remember your place. You do things on my command. There are others you could be given to.”

Then Lumiya backhands her. I strain against my bonds, an inarticulate growl erupting from my throat.

Lumiya stares at Nethi for a moment more. “Go to your chambers.”

Then she turns to me as Nethi flees from the room. She caresses my cheek, and I can feel the fire trailing after her fingers. Her voice is filled with sorrow. “Anakin, you have not promised to serve me, you cannot have Nethi unless you do so.”

I shiver as her fingers go back up the side of my face. She grabs my hair and pulls back on it hard, lifting my face so I’m staring up at her.

I can feel the anger and hate. I hate her. I hiss out my mantra. “I will not kill Nethi.”

Lumiya gives me that predatory smile again and kisses me hard. I feel my lust for her erupt; my anger and hate are forgotten in the flow of my desire.

She drops my head, and begins her slow, teasing, walk away from me. I belatedly realize that I had misspoken my mantra. “Tahiri, I will not kill Tahiri.”

Lumiya ignores me and leaves the room, leaving me alone with my comfortable old friend, and my despair.

Pleasure & Pain: Chapter Six

I wonder if I have become dependent upon the pain. I feel that I have. I miss it when Lumiya or Nethi are beside me. In its own way it is comforting, familiar.

I can relate to the pain.

I sigh slightly as I feel the pain begin to lessen. I open my eyes and watch the door as Lumiya enters once more. She is smiling again, happy over something.

She caresses my check, the trail of her fingers burning, and I smile at the simple gesture.

It is the little things that make me feel good.

I consider all the little tasks I have done for her, the droid, the whisperkit, the nexu, and a dozen or so other creatures that I can't remember what are called. All of them, all of my victims, are little holes and scars on my heart.

And Nethi usually brings me them for supper, one I happily consume. I smile at the thought of her, as she has not worn shoes in my presence since I asked to see her toes. I absently wish she would kiss me again.

Lumiya looks at me, sorrow filling her gaze, and I know what she's going to ask of me. It has almost become a mantra between us. It is our little ritual that we do, one which allows the killing to happen, one that is required so that I can return to the pain.

"Please serve me Anakin, allow me to take away your pain, to give you Nethi. You want that do you not?"

It's my turn now. "I will not kill Tahiri."

I close my eyes in anticipation of the pain, and am not disappointed.

"Then can you do yet another small task for me?"

I smile indulgently, she knows that I will.

She turns around, and the pain increases as she goes to fetch what she wants me to kill today.

In moments, she returns, behind her are two of her guards, stormtroopers in red armor. They carry a Yuuzhan Vong warrior between them, and drop him before me.

I look at the warrior, and look at Lumiya, confusion evident on my face.

She reaches out and caresses my cheek. "This is Cheeth Lah. He is the crèche mate, the brother, of Tsavong Lah, the Warmaster who demanded the deaths of your brother and sister, who had the voxyn created. This is the brother of the Warmaster who had Tahiri shaped."

Lumiya's hand is playing in my hair as I look at the warrior, a feeling of hate seething in me. He and his family have caused untold hardship for me and mine, his bloodline was responsible for Tahiri's pain, for my death. I long for his death.

"Will you kill him for me?"

I want to, yet part of me balks at the thought of killing him. I look to Lumiya, "Why?"

"Must we cover this ground again Anakin? You know why, obedience in these small tasks, brings you rewards, brings you visits from Nethi. Obedience stops the pain. Besides, he's just a vong. An animal. No better than that feral nek yesterday."

I turn my attention downwards again. "But…"

I snap my mouth shut, cutting off what I was going to say, as I remember my Aunt's thoughts on those who say the word "but."

I fall to the ground as Lumiya shuts off the repulser. I stand, and watch as she walks back to me, for the first time, I notice her scent. It is intoxicating. I reach out to grab her, to posses her, but she puts her hand up between us, stopping me.

I can feel a small whimper escape my lips.

She leans in close to me; I can feel the heat coming from her body as she whispers in my ear, "Take care of Lah for me Anakin. Do you not want to please me?"

I hoarsely whisper "Yes."

Reaching out with the Force, I realize that I cannot stop his heart as I have done to so many other creatures lately, as I have done so often to please her. I can't feel him in the Force at all. I look to Lumiya for guidance.

She walks around me, behind me, and leans against my back. Her arms snake around me, as she is once more whispering in my ear. "They can be affected by Force Lightning. Gather your hate, your anger. Can you feel it there, now channel it down your arm, and throw it at Lah."

I do as she commands; I can feel the hate, the power, the anger. It gathers at my fingertips and I can feel it burst forth. The lightning erupts from my hand, and slams into the warrior as Lumiya begins kissing my neck, a trail of kisses, alternating between ice cold and fiery hot.

He screams as I find myself laughing.

I stop the lightning, and see the smoke curling off his body, looking closer; I can see he still breathes. I feel a cold smile curl my lips, as I let loose the lightning once more, I revel in my anger and hate.

I feel Lumiya's hands running up and down my body, across my chest, inside my robe, which had come undone at some point, leaving little trails of fire wherever her fingers touch. My smile just grows larger as I hear the crying, the whimpering.

I stop to admire my handiwork once again.

Lumiya whispers in my ear. "Once more."

She nibbles my ear and I let the lightning fly again, finally killing the Vong.

For some reason, I feel empty. I feel like I had done something wrong. I absently reach up and wipe away a tear.

Then Lumiya is in front of me again. Her lips pressed against mine, and all doubts vanish. Still kissing me, she leads me back to the repulser as it turns on. She gently caresses my cheek as she says, "You have done well, but will you please serve me? I do not wish to see you return to your pain so soon."

"I will not kill Tahiri."

My mantra sounds hollow to me now. It is like I had crossed some line, one that means that I could, that I would, kill Tahiri.

Without saying another word Lumiya turns from me, and walks away. My friend the pain slowly creeps up and for the first time in a long time, I find myself crying, and I'm not entirely sure why.

Endless

Nobody was really surprised when it happened, not really, not on the subconscious level where savage things grow. Well, that is not entirely true; there was one person that was totally caught off guard by what happened: The Grand Master of the Jedi, Luke Skywalker. For all his insight into the Force, for all his power, for all his wisdom, he still died with a look of shock on his face when it happened. He was utterly unprepared to the attack, having no time to prepare a defense.

His wife Mara fought harder, pulling down power dark and terrible. She alone was responsible for the destruction of a legion of Killiks. Unfortunately, even if every Jedi alive destroyed a legion of Killik’s, there would not be enough Jedi to destroy them all. One even has to wonder if at the height of the Old Republic there would have been enough Jedi to destroy the entire Killik race a legion at a time.

After all, the Swarm is endless.

JacenTaat turned to his hive-siblings, clicking low in his throat. The Jacen part of him did not like what he had to do, but the Taat aspect reveled in the destruction of the Jedi. After all, UnuThul has demanded the Jedi be brought to kneel due to their sacrilegious attacks against the Swarm.

UnuThul’s outrage at what the Jedi did at Utegetu Nebula is palatable, his will iron, his demand simple: all Jedi must join, or die.

One by one, and two by two, Jedi are cut down. Each is given the choice. Master, Knight, Padawan. It makes no difference to JacenTaat or his hive siblings. JacenTaat feels both shame and glee with each slice of his blade as every Jedi on Ossus faces the choice. As each Jedi faces a Joiner’s blade.

JacenTaat thinks back over what happened in the Council Chambers. He both revels and is horrified by the demands he made of the Jedi Council. His demands that the Jedi need to spend more time in Killik nests so that they can understand the Killiks. He remembers declaring that the Swarm represents the best chance at peace for the galaxy. When his uncle told him that he believed otherwise, JacenTaat ignited his lightsaber and cut him down.

He did so quickly, efficiently, without hesitation or mercy. Such is the will of UnuThul.

JacenTaat smiles as he feels the warm acceptance and righteousness from his hive-siblings and UnuThul.

He sits upon the chair that was his uncle’s, and issues the recall signal to the entire Order. He is bringing them home, for it is time for every Jedi to choose and act. And if a few Killiks or joiners die in the process, it does not matter.

After all, the Swarm is endless.

Pleasure & Pain: Chapter Five

I sink into the pain, letting it wash over me, getting lost on its current, becoming oblivious to what’s happening around me. I lose track of myself and of time.

Then I can fell the pain start to lessen, to release me from its embrace.

I open my eyes, to watch Nethi walk, no saunter, towards me. The shift she wears today catches my eye; it’s just as tight, just as small as Lumiya’s. Even though it appears to be identical to Lumiya’s it seems to reveal more, while at the same time hiding everything. There is a mischievous sparkle in her green eyes.

I blink my eyes, twice. I’m confused; I could have sworn there were blonde highlights in her black hair. I find myself shivering slightly, and return to watching her walk toward me. Her movements are pure warrior, no hint of the dancer, yet still graceful, powerful, seductive.

I have a very funny desire, one that’s almost overwhelming. I want to see her toes, but she’s wearing some type of closed-toe sandal.

She is carrying a plate of some roasted meat and various vegetables. My mouth starts to water as she comes closer.

I feel a hunger in the pit of my stomach, one that is hard to ignore with her in the room.

She kneels in front me, and begins to cut the meat. I wonder if she places herself in that position just for me.

I wonder if her position does the same thing to Vong males, as it does to human males.

She lowers the power to the repulser, bringing my face closer to where she kneels, and lifts the first bite to my lips. “Partake.”

Somewhat inappropriate plays on the word flit through my mind, and with an effort I push those thoughts away..

The meat is good. It holds a gamey flavor, as if it was a wild animal recently killed, but it is prepared perfectly. It is a delicious, tender cut of meat.

It evokes a feeling of bliss, almost as good as that drink of water or Tahiri’s kisses.

Absently, I wonder why I always think of Tahiri when in the presence of Nethi and Aunt Mara while around Lumiya.

Then, she’s holding the next bite to my lips, and my thoughts once more focus on the simple pleasure of eating, of being fed, of being sated.

Again, I think of the oddly subservient role she is taking in these things. It just seems so alien to what I consider Yuuzhan Vong.

I wonder what caste she had been. Some part of me says Shaper, but she has so few scars and both hands are real.

Then the next bite is given to me, and thought once more flees my mind.

And that is how the meal progresses, I have some random thought about family, life and these odd circumstances, and then I am given a bite of food, and my train of thought is dashed. All too soon, the food is gone.

Nethi looks up at me, expectantly, hopefully.

I want to look away, look anywhere but into her eyes. I resort to lowering mine. “That was delicious Nethi, but I did not recognize the taste. What was it?”

I hear her laugh; no it was to short, to mischievous, to be a laugh, it was a giggle, a soft musical sound. One so out of place with what I think of as Vong that once again I look into her eyes and am mesmerized.

That mischievous look had moved from her eyes to her smile. “Whisperkit.”

“What? What was it?”

“Whisperkit.”

“Why would you kill a whisperkit to feed it to me?”

“You killed it Anakin.”

I could feel the despair at what I did to that whisperkit fill me again. Nethi sensed my mood change, as she reached up and touched my face. “It’s okay Anakin, it was only a whisperkit. Look at me.”

The command seemed so out of place for someone kneeling in front of me that I obeyed.

“It’s okay. Obeying what Lumiya says, doing as she commands is a good thing.”

Then she kisses me.

I feel a shock run through me, not unlike the ones delivered by my restraints. Oddly, I can feel the same shock running through her as well. And I can feel the surprise she feels at the shock.

She pulls back, and resumes her kneeling position, lowering her head again.

It takes me a moment to catch my breath, and get my thoughts back into order.

I watch the top of her head, and notice that her breathing is heavy, almost a pant. “Nethi, can I see your toes?”

Her head pops up fast, the surprise at my request evident in her green eyes. Rather than answering verbally, she leans and slips her legs out from underneath her. Then she removes her sandals, revealing her toes. Pink, perfect, human.

I smile at her as she wiggles her toes. “That is how you should be, without shoes.”

She returns my smile and whispers “As you wish, Anakin.”

I find it amazing how just the removal of her sandals changes her; she appears so innocent and carefree now. I desire that innocence.

She resumes her position of kneeling in front of me, with her head bowed, and I hear the door open. I look up and see Lumiya walk into the room. Her smile is once more predatory.

“You know Anakin; there are other benefits to serving me, besides just the end of this pain.”

I look at her. “I will not kill Tahiri.”

I notice Nethi tense at my mention of Tahiri’s name.

Lumiya continues on, as if I had not spoken. “You could have Nethi; you could posses her, do with her as you please.”

As she speaks these words, I see Nethi raise her head slightly, the shock on her face and in her Force presence. Lumiya sends a glare her way, and Nethi is once more the subservient maiden kneeling before me.

Lumiya smiles at me. “I want to give you these things, an end to this pain, Nethi for your own. Yet to do so, you must serve me.”

She leans in close, her lips brushing mine. “Please Anakin, serve me.”

“I will not kill Tahiri.”

Lumiya, spins from me, and begins walking from the room. Her voice is filled with sorrow as she speaks, “Come Nethi, there is nothing more for you to do in here today.”

I watch Nethi walk out of the room, and catch the quick, furtive glance she throws over her shoulder towards me. As she goes out into the hallway, I can feel an emptiness looming within me, an emptiness that the pain cannot fill. Yet I am happy, for she leaves without her shoes on.

The Graveyard

The old ramshackle freighter slips out of hyperspace. Her saucer shape slips through the rubble of what used to be a planet. The battered exterior belies the power and maneuverability which she exhibits as she dodges small rocks. Her pilot thinks it fitting that this, her final journey, be to a place that was so prominent in her history.

The pilot shuts down the engines and lets the freighter drift. As he watches the pieces of rubble slam into each other, he sees another ship appear from hyperspace. He smiles as he watches the ship cut through space; he considers her smooth lines a reflection of her pilot.

As he sits and watches the rubble of the planet that was once home to his mom, he can hear the sounds of the other ship docking with the old, battered freighter.

He smiles as he can hear the pilot of the other ship walk up into the cockpit behind him. Her voice is calm and cool as she asks, “What are you doing?”

“I’m watching, remembering.”

She leans over the chair, wrapping her arms around him. He just smiles at the closeness and comfort.

“You know it all started out here.”

“Hmm?”

“This freighter, Mom in the Death Star, Dad right here, Uncle Luke, probably right where you’re at. I wonder if Dad knew what he’d find at the end of that flight, if he would’ve taken it?”

“And what did he find at the end of this flight?”

“Death. Destruction.”

“But he also found your mother.”

“I wasn’t talking about of Alderaan.”

Rather than replying, she just kisses his cheek.

He sighs. “I loath leaving her here you know.”

“I know, but it’s either scuttle her here or let her rot in a museum somewhere. And you know what your Dad would say about that.”

He laughs at that, and feels the despair that has clung to his heart for months, since it was decided that the Falcon was not worth keeping in flight, lift ever so slightly.

Reaching out with the Force, he can feel the muted joy of his companion at the lifting of his feelings.

“You think Uncle Luke will understand our deception here? Just why we had to steal her and do this?”

He can hear her smile. “Does it matter?”

Again, he gives a small laugh. “No, no it doesn’t.”

He turns to his companion, taking in her lithe form, blonde hair, green eyes, and bare toes sitting on the deck. But what dazzles him is her smile; it is a smile which he is unable but to return.

He stands up and takes her hand. “Come on, let’s go say goodbye.”

They walk through the halls that they had so often played in, so often ran through and could feel the history, the stories, and the utter sense of home.

They get to the final room of their tour. What at one time was Han and Leia Solo’s cabin. Not a large room, yet not small. He walks in and can feel the presence of the parents that he has missed for so long.

He sees the bed which his parents shared for so long and flings himself upon it. He looks at his companion.

“Do we really have to scuttle her?”

She leans against the bulkhead. “You know how much it will cost to keep her flying.”

A mischievous gleam appears in his eyes. “Well, there are ways which we could simplify our lives, which would give us enough to do so.”

Her eyes narrow slightly. “And how exactly do we suggest we do that.”

“Stay right here.”

He rushes from the room, and returns moments later. He pulls a small, simple piece of jewelry from his pocket and kneels in front of her. “If you married me, we’d be able to get rid of one of our apartments. We could spend the rest of our life together. We could have what my parent’s had, hopefully for as long as they had it. Tahiri will you marry me?”

Her eyes shine with tears, as she takes the titanium band from him, set at the top was a small Gallinorian Rainbow gem shining with its internal light, beside it were two small krayt dragon pearls.

She looks from the ring, to his ice-blue eyes, a smile stretching her lips wide. “Yes Ani, yes I will.”

Standing, he wraps her in his arms and kisses her.